A Feather on the Water(104)

Kitty’s last letter had contained worrying news about the situation in Shanghai. The Communists were advancing on the city and there was total chaos. She wrote that the docks were crammed with evacuation ships—some so overloaded that one had capsized in the Huangpu River with thousands drowning. Pan Am had sent extra DC-4s to meet the demand from departing Americans, but other foreign nationals like Kitty’s parents couldn’t get a seat. How terrible for them, to be trapped in China while the daughter they thought they had lost forever was there waiting for them on the other side of the ocean. And what a nightmare for Kitty, desperate to get them back before it was too late.

Martha thought of Kitty’s face the night after the Victory Dance at the base, the way her eyes had shone with all the fun, excitement, and romance that evening had held. It had been a wild celebration—an eruption of joy that the world war was over, carrying with it the belief that this would not, could not, ever happen again. But the world was not at peace. The families bound for Belgium were so afraid of what was going on in Poland, they would probably never set foot in their homeland again. And in China, people like Kitty’s parents were, once again, fearing for their lives.

When would it ever end?



A week later, Martha was back in Fürstenfeldbruck to sign the adoption papers for Halina. It had taken less time than she’d anticipated—thanks to Kitty’s help getting the documents she needed from America.

“Can I see?” Delphine was waiting with celebratory glasses of vodka when Martha arrived back at the camp.

Martha fished the documents out of her bag. Halina’s new name appeared in bold type at the top of each page.

“Halina Radford! It has a ring to it, doesn’t it?” Delphine beamed.

“It ought to be Halina Dombrowski.” Martha sighed. “I hope it will be, one day.”

“I’m sure it will. Once you get back to America, you’ll be able to sort things out with Arnie.” Delphine put her hand into her pocket. “I had some exciting news while you were out.” She handed a sheet of paper to Martha.

“New Zealand!” Martha looked up from the letter, open-mouthed.

“I never thought, in my wildest dreams, I’d be going there.” Delphine laughed.

“So, you’ll be escorting two hundred orphans from camps across the American zone . . .” Martha read aloud, “‘to be placed with families waiting to adopt children of all ages.’”

“And they’re providing me and my children with a rented house in Auckland. It couldn’t be better, could it?” Delphine handed Martha a glass of vodka. “I think that deserves a toast, don’t you? To New Zealand!” She clinked her glass against Martha’s. “And to the future Mr. and Mrs. Dombrowski!”

Martha raised the vodka to her lips, but the smell of the alcohol made her feel nauseous. She ran to the bathroom.

“Martha! Are you okay?” Delphine was calling from the other side of the door.

“I . . . I’m fine.” She felt her jaw tremble as she spoke.

“You don’t look fine. Was it something you ate?”

“I . . . no . . . it’s just . . .”

“Oh my God.” Delphine’s hand went to her mouth. “Is it what I think it is?”

“I . . . I’m not sure. I . . .” She sat down, holding the table for support. “Oh, Delphine,” she whispered, “I’m so afraid.”

“Afraid?” Delphine was beside her in an instant. “Why? It doesn’t matter that you’re not married. Stefan loves you. He’ll be there for you—you mustn’t worry about that.”

Martha shook her head. “It’s not that.”

“What is it, then?”

“I lost a baby. When I was with Arnie. She was born prematurely—at five months. She was so tiny, so perfect . . .”

“Oh, Martha. I knew there must be something. I remember your face when Jadzia’s baby was found in the river. There was something in your eyes—beyond the shock of what had happened.”

“I never thought I could get pregnant again. I’m so scared I’ll lose this one, too.”

“You mustn’t think like that.” Delphine took both of Martha’s hands in hers. “In my experience, it’s quite common for women to lose a first pregnancy but go on to have healthy babies.”

“I didn’t know that,” Martha murmured.

“That’s because no one talks about it. It’s kept hidden—a private pain.”

“Arnie never wanted to talk about it. That’s when things started to go really wrong between us. His drinking got a lot worse after it happened. I blamed myself for that. I thought that if I could have given him a child, he would have been a different person. But he didn’t even want to try. He used to look at me as if I was . . .”

“Don’t dwell on that.” Delphine pulled Martha to her. “How about we get you properly examined? How far on do you think you are?”

“A couple of months. Maybe more.”

“Have you told Stefan?”

“Not yet.”

Delphine nodded. “Maybe better to wait until you’re sure. He’s going to be so excited.”

“I’m terrified of telling him. I won’t breathe a word until I absolutely have to.”