A Feather on the Water(81)

“It’s what they call them in England. Charlie calls them jimmy hats.”

“Why on earth do we have those in the warehouse?” Martha was trying not to smile.

“He said the army brought them here before we took over. They wanted to give them out to the DPs, but no one was interested.”

“Well, that explains the continuing baby boom, I guess.”

“He says they all want babies because they’ve lost their families. It gives them a reason to go on living.”

“Well, that’s understandable,” Martha said.

“It’s not how I feel.”

Martha kept walking. For Kitty, this was a sensitive subject. She was still in the grim no-man’s-land of not knowing if her family was lost. If she wanted to explain why she felt that way, it would have to come out without any prompting.

“It was having all those babies living next door when we first got here.” Kitty turned to Martha with a rueful smile. “It was the best advert for birth control. I think it’s probably put me off for life!”



The day after the snow melted, a heap of mail arrived at the camp. There was too much for Martha to carry on foot. She had to drive down to the gates and pile it all into the car. Kitty came out of the office to help her unload it. She didn’t say anything, but Martha could see the tension in her face.

They started sorting the mail into piles. Most of the letters were marked with the insignia of UNRRA or the US Army. But there was the odd one with foreign stamps in the top right corner. Martha’s heart skipped a beat with each one she spotted, but none were from Poland. There were three from France, addressed to Delphine, and one from America—a Christmas card from her cousin in New Orleans.

“Oh!” Kitty was staring at an envelope with her name on it, which had the words “International Settlement of Shanghai” stamped across the top. She glanced up at Martha, then ripped open the flap.

“It’s from someone called Ruth Medavoy.” Kitty’s hand trembled as she held the letter. “She says the rabbi passed my letter on to her. She’s the wife of the silk merchant my parents did business with.”

“What does she say?”

Kitty’s eyes darted across the page. She drew in a breath and closed her eyes. “She says they did get to Shanghai.” Her eyes snapped open, brimming with tears. “They lived with her until the Japanese forced the Jews to move into the ghetto.”

“Oh, Kitty!” Martha searched her face, half-afraid of what was coming next.

“They didn’t go to the ghetto.” Kitty drew the back of her hand across her eyes and read aloud: “‘Many people went into hiding at that time. We left Shanghai and went to live in the north, but your parents went to another place. We have only just returned to the city. Everything is in disarray. I’m afraid I can’t give you an address to write to because I don’t know where your parents might be. I have heard that people are still in hiding.’”

Kitty looked up. “I . . . I can’t believe it.” Her teeth were rattling as she spoke. “Th . . . they m . . . m . . . made it. B . . . b . . . but now they . . .”

Martha shot around the desk as Kitty collapsed into the chair. She cradled Kitty’s head in her arms and hugged her tight. There was no resistance, no attempt to pull away. “It’s going to be all right,” she murmured, stroking Kitty’s hair. “It won’t be long. You’ll find them.”

Kitty mumbled something Martha couldn’t quite make out.

Martha glanced at the ceiling, willing what she’d said to be true. It would be so cruel, to have gotten this far, only for the trail to go cold.



Kitty had to wait a whole week to share the news about her parents with Charlie. He’d been given leave with immediate effect and had gone skiing in the Bavarian Alps. On his first day back, he rang through to the office to tell her—and she ran all the way there.

“Hey! What’s this?” He stroked her face with his fingers when she broke away from kissing him.

“I’m sorry—I promised myself I wouldn’t.” She swallowed back the tears brimming her eyes. In a few staccato sentences she told him about the letter and what it contained.

“That’s fantastic news!” He gathered her up in his arms and held her tight. “I wish I’d been here when it came. You must have been blown away!”

“I was,” she murmured. “I couldn’t believe that they’d made it—all that way across Europe and Russia. But I can hardly bear it, knowing that but not knowing where they are.”

“It’s only a matter of time, though, isn’t it? They’ll soon get things organized, like they did here when the war ended. Your parents could be in a camp already—and if they are, it won’t be long until lists are sent out.”

“I keep hoping that’s what’s happened,” Kitty said. “Mrs. Medavoy wrote the letter at the end of November—more than two months ago.”

“So, you could get news any day.”

“But what if they . . .” She broke off, burying her face in the folds of his jacket.

“Try not to think that way.” He rubbed his hands across her shoulders.

She raised her head. “I do try. But there’s this voice in my head that tells me not to get my hopes up, that I’m stupid for allowing myself to get excited.”