Читать книгу The Dangerous Places - Louis Golding - Страница 10

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Father Josef was in the vestry, seated at a table, wearing his spectacles. He removed the spectacles, laid them down sharply on the table, and rose. There seemed to be no time for civilities.

“Tell the lady arrangements have been made,” he said. “A lady, Yanka, is waiting at the corner of the next street, Szewska Street. She is wearing a black felt hat, and has a red hand-bag under her arm. She speaks German. Translate, please.” Mila translated. “When the lady leaves here, she will go up close to Yanka, and stoop down as if she has lost a ticket. Yanka will then take her through the town to her own house. The lady must not seem to be following her. Yanka will then go up to her apartment, which is number six, on the second floor. Repeat.”

“Number six, on the second floor.”

“She will leave the door on the latch. Five minutes later, the lady will go up after her. If there is no one about, she will push the door open and go through. If there is, she must try later. Will you say all that?”

Mila conveyed the information.

“Tell the Father how grateful we are to him,” said Elsie. The words did not need to be translated. Father Josef went on straight away.

“Yanka is a clerk in a builder’s office. She has a small extra room where a divan is fixed up for the lady.”

“The Father says,” explained Mila, “there will be a bed in the lady’s place for you.” Mila’s face was without expression.

Fright scratched at Elsie’s heart like fingernails.

“A bed for me?” she asked. “But of course, the Father said a bed for you and me?”

There was no mistaking the import of the expression in her voice and eyes. His manner softened. Probably he had not realized before that, though the woman and the girl had only met a week or so ago, they had already become immensely devoted to each other.

“I had hoped to hide you both together,” he explained. “But it is always much more difficult to hide two persons than one. It is not only space, it is food as well, and a great many other things. As for you, my child, you will work in the kitchen of the Convent School of St. Ursula. You will stay there until it is safe for you to join your friend. Tell her this.”

There was little colour yet in Mila’s cheeks, but there was none as she conveyed this plan.

“But tell him we wish to be together,” implored Elsie. “It is not right for us to be separated. It is not right.”

“The lady will understand that if it had been possible for you to be kept together, that would have been arranged.” Time was getting short. The way Father Josef was tapping his feet on the ground looked a bit ominous. “It is hoped that Yanka will find it possible to visit you, my child, from time to time, in the Convent. At all events, she will be able to give news. Nothing more than that can be done. The lady has come to me for help, and she must understand she is being given the only help, I say the only help, that is just now available. There have been arrests lately. We are dealing with matters of life and death, not choosing this way or that. Sister Carmela is waiting for you, my child, at the Chapel of Our Lady, near the West entrance.” Then a thought suddenly struck him. “Ask the lady if she is afraid that some sort of pressure will be exercised, to make you abandon your own faith.” Mila’s lips trembled. She clearly wished to say something now on her own account. But he gestured impatiently towards Elsie. It would be impossible if he found himself discussing the situation with the girl as well as the woman. “Ask her, my child, will you?”

“No, Mila. Tell the Father that whatever happens in your soul is your own concern, not mine.” Elsie’s voice was grave and calm now. Mila was no stripling. She knew that they were both completely in the priest’s hands, and that he was risking his life to save theirs, as every single person was doing who was involved in the concealment.

“I want to say something to you, Channah,” said Mila slowly. For the moment it was as if they two were alone in the room, and she had whatever time she needed to say what she had to say. “I could have left the ghetto in Warsaw, more than once, if I had wished to go into a Convent. My father begged me to, but I thought I should stay on with the other young people. But it’s different now. I’ve begun my journey to Eretz Israel. I’ll stay where the Father puts me, and when the time comes, we’ll set out on the next stage of the journey.”

Time was pressing, but Father Josef did not ask Mila to translate into his own language the words she had just uttered. It was clearly something that lay between the girl and her friend. There was one thing he felt he must say to them both. His voice was quite gentle now.

“You will both remember, I hope, there are many Jewish children who are being looked after just now in the Convents and other Catholic institutions, and in the homes of priests.”

“Yes.”

“They will come to no harm, my children.”

Elsie smiled. “Please thank the Father, Mila,” she said. “What else can I do, but thank him, again and again.”

“It will be possible for messages to pass between you,” said Father Josef. “And then, when something is worked out, you will be told. Perhaps it will not be long.”

“We will not keep Father Josef waiting, nor Sister Carmela, nor the lady—what is her name? Yes, Yanka. It is disappointing, Mila, of course, that we should be separated so soon. But we may be together again before long, as the Father says.” There was a smile on Elsie’s face, but the eyes were misted. “Good-bye for the time being, Mila.” She held her arms out. Mila’s eyes were stone-dry. Not even a hint of tears came easily to those eyes, which had learned too young to weep for sorrows far more grievous than old men or women are normally acquainted with. She came over to Elsie. They kissed each other, the woman and the girl, not too fiercely, for that would have made the moment less tolerable than it was.

“Thank you, Father Josef,” Mila said. “I shall find Sister Carmela. Good-bye.”

“One moment,” the priest said. “Tell the lady there is a way out of the church through this door here. It is better you should leave by separate ways. The lady will be on Szewska Street. She is to turn left again. You both understand, we will not be idle. We will do what we can do. God bless you, my children.” Again he raised his hand in a gesture of benediction.

“Good-bye, Father,” they both said, and walked their different ways.