The Polish Connection 2

Chapter 2

“I will do my best." I said. "Now before anything else happens, you look as if you could do with a good rest. Why don’t you both lie down here on the couch and chair, and sleep for an hour or so, while I sort out a bed and some clothes for Lizbet. And then we can talk again about what you will do next.”

So I left them reclining on the couch, and knew that they would soon both be asleep. I shut the door of the front room so that Rebecca and her friend Mollie wouldn’t see them in there.

Our house has three bedrooms and a bathroom. The master is a large front room. Then nearly as large is Rebecca’s room, where she has two single beds. The third contains another single. When we have a couple to stay, they take Rebecca’s room and she is moved to the smaller room.

I got sheets and blankets out of the closet in the bathroom and made up the bed in the single room. I knew if I crawled into the attic space I would find a trunk which had some of Rebecca’s clothing from her childhood. I could never throw away her clothes when she outgrew them, always hoping she would have a baby sister who might some day be able to use them.

About five o’clock the front door knocker went again. I knew it would likely be Mollie’s father, coming to collect her. I also knew that Peter and his daughter would be very frightened to be discovered. So I went to Rebecca's room and said, “Mollie, I expect that is your Papa, coming for you. Let’s go down straight away now.”

The girls looked somewhat surprised by my hurrying them up, but obeyed and leaving their toys behind made their way downstairs to the front hall. I opened the door for Mr. Ben but quickly said, “Here she is for you, all played out.” And he took her by the hand saying, “Say thank you to Mrs. Davis for a nice time,” and she did.

I watched at the front door while they went down the steps and up the path and down the road. They live just four houses away, so would be home in no time. “You acted like you were pushing her out,” Rebecca accused me.

“I know, dear. I am sorry, but something has happened that I must now tell you, but I didn’t want her to know about it. It must be a secret.”

I opened the door of the living room, and Peter and Lizbet now both sitting close together on the couch looked at me, wondering what would happen next.

“This is my daughter Rebecca.”

“Rebecca, this is your cousin Lizbet who has come to stay with us for awhile. She will be sleeping in the spare room. Her father will not be staying, but I expect we will see him from time to time when he comes to visit her. Why don’t you take Lizbet with you upstairs and show her her room, and then later, we can get the ladder and go up to the attic and find some of your old clothes that might fit her. Go and show her your toys.”

So Rebecca, pleased to have a new cousin, took her by the hand, and gently led her upstairs.

“She might need to use the toilet,” I called after. “Show her where the bathroom is.”

I turned to Peter. “But what about you? Where will you go? Back to hide in the choir loft again?”

“I don’t know anywhere else to go at the moment. But I will try to find some place which can offer me work. I can change my name, and make up a story. When I can, I will try to come back and visit her, perhaps on Sundays at this time each week, if I may.”

“I will make you up a package of food. You also perhaps would wish to wash before you go. The bathroom is at the top of the stairs. The girls should be done in there by now. Use the towels that are there. I can put some more out later.”

So Peter went to wash, and I made him several sandwiches with our leftover chicken. I also put in some carrots and a good supply of biscuits. I filled a bottle with lemonade and put it all in a bag.

When Peter returned down the stairs I said, “Best you go now, and slip off before you look too conspicuous. If you can come again tomorrow, I will have some more food for you and perhaps can find a change of clothing to give you as well. And I will think of anyone I can who might be able to give you work. But it is best you go now, before the nosy neighbours think they have something to gossip about.”

“Can I not say goodbye to my daughter?”

“I think it is best not. I will tell her you will be back tomorrow. I think she will be fine with us.”

So Peter walked off and slipped down the road, and I didn’t know what I had got myself in for.

Lizbet was playing happily with Rebecca, but when I sneaked a look in the room, it was very much a one sided conversation. Rebecca would say, “Here is dolly. She is going to school,” and march the doll off down the room. Lizbet would laugh, and look pleased, but she didn’t say anything. I was beginning to wonder if she could speak English at all

“Hi you two,” I said.

Lizbet looked up suddenly and she said, “Dada?”

I said, “He’s had to go for tonight, love, but he will be back tomorrow. We need to find him some new clothes to wear, and some new clothes for you too. How would you like that?”

She stopped looking as if she might burst into tears, and seemed to understand that what was going to happen would benefit her. So I got out the ladder which we store under the single bed, and propped it up against the wall. I went up the seven or so steps necessary to raise the hatch and get into the attic space. There is no floor as such, but John had lain planks along the joists so that we could store our things up there. It was still slightly light outside, and I could just make out the outline of the trunk. I pulled it close to the opening and without actually going into the attic I was able to open it. I took out loads of old clothes of Rebecca’s and threw them down in a heap. Lizbet laughed and seemed very excited by having clothes rain down from heaven. When I had emptied the trunk I came down again, and we seriously looked at the options in front of us.

“She needs night clothes first off,” said Rebecca. “Here is my pink nightgown when I was about five. It will be a bit big, but I think we could turn up the hem couldn’t we?”

“And here is a cardigan which you hardly wore because your grandma sent it thinking you were small and found out you were much bigger.”

We found several skirts and dresses which would be suitable. There were also many sets of underwear, bodices and bloomers, which although rather worn would do for now. With making things either slightly larger or smaller, we had suddenly created a whole wardrobe for our new cousin.

“She should try them on.”

“But she needs a bath,” I said. “Look how dirty she is, and her hair is filthy.”

“Have we got enough hot water for a bath?” asked Rebecca.

“I’ll light the gas and the water heater should be ready in ten minutes.” I was so pleased that we rent a gas water heater for both the bathroom and a gas copper for the cellar, although I still make do in the kitchen with water heated on the stove. “You can take her into the bathroom and get her ready.” I realised that we were talking about her as if she couldn’t speak herself. So I felt obliged to look at her and slowly say, “Lizbet, would you like a bath?”

She smiled and nodded. I didn’t know if she really understood or not, but at least she trusted us not to do something to her that she wouldn’t like.

Rebecca started putting the clothes away in the drawers of the chest, although some of them smelled a bit stale from being shut up in the trunk, so these she put aside for washing before wearing.

“Will you be doing a wash tomorrow, Mum?”

“Of course, I always do on Mondays.”

“So you could put these things through as well?”

“I will do certainly.” I made sure there were enough clothes for her to have something to wear in the morning, and left out the pink nightgown for tonight, and took the other clothes to put in the hamper with our dirty wash for the morning.

I went down to make myself a cup of tea and when I returned upstairs, I found that Lizbet and Rebecca had found their way into the bathroom, and Rebecca had run a reasonably warm bath. “It will be fine for the moment,” I said. “Start with washing her hands and face with a flannel and see how she takes to it.”

So Rebecca rinsed a clean white flannel in the warm water, and making a lather with some soap, showed Lizbet that she wanted her to put her hands over the tub. When she had done that, Rebecca took each hand in turn and washed it gently, with the flannel turning almost brown from the layers of dirt on her hands. “Oh, Mummy,” she said.

Taking a clean flannel, Rebecca washed her face and now, it turned another colour too, and Lizbet looked happy to be clean again. Who knows the last time her face was washed.

The water had continued to heat so we added some more hot and now the tub was at least three inches deep with water which was comfortably warm, if not exactly hot. Rebecca carefully stripped off Lizbet’s clothes, amazed to find that she had on three layers of everything; three sets of pants, bodices, blouses and skirts with a cardigan on top of it all. She looked half the size and very thin when her naked body was ready for the water. But when she sat down in the tub and Rebecca made bubbles with the soap and played games with her, any embarrassment was gone, and she was as happy as could be. I took all her old clothes off to be washed in the morning. Thank goodness we had found something else for her to wear, even if a bit large on her.

Rebecca had Lizbet sink her head backwards into the water, holding on to her so she wouldn’t go under, and we managed to get her hair washed too. I found that by the time it was needed, enough water had heated sufficiently that we could rinse her hair under clean, clear, warm water. The little girl who came out of the bath was as clean and shiny as could be, and we wrapped her in a large white towel to dry off. Then Rebecca got her favourite old pink nightgown and Lizbet’s face lit up as she had it pulled over her head. There were ruffles on the sleeves and bottom, and a lace pattern on the chest. She looked so lovely and clean and happy. What a difference a bath could make.

I felt some hot soothing food would be the best for her at bedtime, so I made some porridge and put sugar and milk on it, and also a mug of cocoa - a meal which did for all three of us.

So now we had the job of getting Lizbet to bed. I told Rebecca to see if she could fill a stone jug with hot water from the stove for her feet, and I took her by the hand and helped her into the bed. Now she was there, I knew she would be missing her daddy, so I thought that if I cuddled her close to me, and told her a story, maybe she would go to sleep before she had time to think about where he might be. And I too was wondering where he might be. Was he sheltering behind the organ in the choir loft? Had he eaten all the sandwiches or saved some for later? Did he like the lemonade? Would he be warm enough? Then I shook myself and thought that was a fine way for a happily married woman to be thinking.

I read her the Hans Christian Anderson story called The Little Mermaid. I had no idea if she understood the words, but she looked with interest at the pictures, and I could feel her relax and it wasn’t long before she was sound asleep. I settled her gently on the pillow and pulled up the blanket. I tucked one of Rebecca’s teddies in next to her, in case she woke early. Then I went next door to have a talk with Rebecca.

“Darling,” I said, “I don’t know how much of what has been going on you have realised, but I want to tell you all that I know about it. Thank you so much for all that you did for Lizbet this afternoon. You were a life saver for me, taking her in charge like you did, and she seems to think you are wonderful too.”

“I loved having her around. It was like having a little sister.”

“Well, she is a relative. Her grandmother, Elizabeth Novak, (who is no longer alive and her mother also died recently), was my father’s cousin. When my father who, as you know, is called Hyacinth Kulig, moved to America forty-five years ago, Elizabeth was very young, but the families kept in contact. Peter, Lizbet’s father, is her son and he came to find us specially. He knew that I was his second cousin and he was hoping that I would agree to care for his daughter, which I have now done. They have escaped from Germany where he is now a wanted man. If he went back they would put him in prison, or maybe even shoot him. He knew he was taking a risk but he desperately wanted to get his daughter out of Germany and safe with some relatives. He tried to contact the Americans, and had no reply, but there is no way he could have got her all that way anyhow.

“So you see we have to do several things. We have to keep Lizbet safe and make her happy. Her daddy will try to stay around, but if he is discovered, since he is from Germany he might be sent to a prisoner of war camp, or he might be deported. We have to keep the fact that we know him a secret. I am not yet sure how we can do all this, but we need to talk about it and make plans, and then when he comes again tomorrow, I must have some suggestions for him.”

“So who are we going to tell everyone that Lizbet is and where she comes from when they ask? Because they will ask. We can’t have somebody living with us and not have people asking questions about her.”

“Well, I think we can honestly say she is our cousin’s grandchild and that her mother has died, and that we have been asked to care for her. I think as long as we can we must tell the truth because if we get involved in complex lies, it will be hard to keep everything straight. But I think we might say she comes from Belgium, instead of Germany. There is a part of Belgium where people speak German, so if anyone questions her accent, it will not be surprising that she sounded like she came from German-speaking Belgium. We will have to have a new last name for them, because it is likely that her father is a wanted man and his name will be known. We must look through books which tell about Belgium and see what we can find about where we can pretend they come from.”

“Couldn’t Lizbet be a name that is used in Belgium too? She wouldn’t like having to change her first name.”

“Yes, but what I really hope is that she will learn to speak English like you do, perhaps more than like I do as I still have somewhat of an American inflection. So if we called her Beth, and she spoke like we do, she would not stand out, and people wouldn’t be so curious as to her background.”

“I like Beth. I will call her that tomorrow and see if she can relate to it. But what about her father? Where is he now? What will he do?”

“I don’t know the answers to that any more than you do. I think Peter might be back at the church, hiding in the choir loft. That is where I found them this morning, although at the time I didn’t know he was actually looking for me. But the church is open most of the time and he can easily slip in and out of it, unseen, if he picks his time. But he won’t want to stay there much longer.

“I hope he will find a job of some sort to do. I will give him the names of some of the employers around here, and suggest to him that he says that he is a Belgian refugee – there are so many of them. He does speak good English, although his accent is rather foreign sounding, but he appears to be healthy and as so many of our men are away at the war, it might well be he could get a job where they wouldn’t check too closely into his background. What I intend to do when Peter comes tomorrow, is to give him some of your daddy’s clothes – they will be short and large as he is so tall and thin - but at least they will be clean, and then I can wash those that he is wearing. And I will suggest that he tries to find work, and then perhaps we can meet up with him on a regular basis at some out of the way place, like in the park or down by the Roman Lakes. But he might have some ideas and plans of his own, so I will make my suggestions but leave it to him to decide how he will proceed.”

“Oh, Mummy, this is all so exciting. Whatever will Daddy say?”

“I think perhaps we won’t mention Peter to Daddy just yet, as he might worry about us if he thought we were helping someone who was wanted by the law. But we will tell him about Beth and I’m sure he won’t object to her staying here with us. You think carefully about things that we might do too, because I value your ideas and need your help if we are to make this work.”

“I will do my best, Mummy, and I know if we try hard it will be fine.”

“Thank you darling. Now good night.” I kissed her on the cheek. “We are going to have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow. You will have a little time with Beth before school, but then I will have to find ways of entertaining her during the day. But she seems a sweet little girl and I’m sure that if I can keep her from being too upset about her daddy being away, we'll be all right.”

So with that we both took to our beds, our minds full of thoughts and plans for the big adventure.