A Feather on the Water(86)

As he handed back the list, she wondered if the people whose names it contained thought of her in the same way he did. She hoped they realized that it hadn’t been her idea to try to get rid of them with the lure of food.

And if striving every day to provide for them was a kind of love, then yes, she did love them. Her mistake, in Stefan’s case, had been to allow that sort of love to turn into a different kind.

As she was walking out of the chapel, his face filled her mind’s eye. Without even realizing it, she fired off another silent plea. Not for him this time, but for herself: for inner peace and acceptance of what she couldn’t change—qualities she’d tried and failed to nurture since the day she’d said goodbye to him. Like the people on the list in her hand, she had to let him go.



Two days after the Poland-bound train pulled out of Fürstenfeldbruck station, Kitty received a telegram from the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee.

“Oh, Martha . . .” She looked up. Her face had gone ghostly white. Her lips were trembling. “They’ve found them. They’re alive!”

They ran all the way to the hospital to tell Delphine. Father Josef was there, too. After many hugs and tears, Kitty passed the telegram around for them all to see:

HERMANN AND ELSA BLUMENTHAL. LEOPOLDSTADT VIENNA. ALIVE AND WELL SHANGHAI. EXPECT LETTER.

“Twelve words,” Delphine said. “Isn’t it incredible: that your life can be transformed by just twelve words.”



The letter came three weeks later. Kitty stared at her name on the envelope, momentarily paralyzed by the sight of her mother’s handwriting. She opened it very slowly and carefully, as if it were a delicate relic from some bygone age.

Martha and Delphine were there with her, listening eagerly as she translated from the German:

“Darling—what utter joy to know that you are alive! We had given up hope when our letters to you in London were returned to us. Papa and I thought we might die of happiness when we were given the news that you have been searching for us.

“For two years we have been living with a Chinese family in the countryside south of the city. They sheltered us in their home, and in return, we worked for them, making clothes. We didn’t find out until last month that hostilities with the Japanese were at an end.”

Kitty looked up, open-mouthed. “They didn’t know the war was over. All those months, they just carried on hiding.” She turned back to the letter: “We are now living with the Medavoys, who helped us when we first arrived in Shanghai. Thank God, we are both in good health and able to work until such time as we can leave China. We long for the moment when we will be reunited with you, my darling—but we have been told that there is no prospect of getting passage out of the country until the political situation here eases . . .” She trailed off, staring at the piece of paper in her hand.

“It can’t be long,” Delphine said. “If relief work is already underway, they’ll be getting people out of there—just like we’re doing here.”

Martha nodded, wishing she felt as certain as Delphine sounded. What if, as in Poland, the Communists took control of China? Would anyone be allowed to get on a boat out of Shanghai in those circumstances? She tried to push those thoughts out of her mind. “You’ll want to tell Charlie. He’s not on duty today, is he? You can call him if you’d like to.”

They left Kitty alone to make the call. It took a few minutes of waiting before the operator at the base managed to locate him and connect her.

“Sorry, honey—I was in the major’s office.” He sounded flustered. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I got a letter from my parents! I couldn’t wait to tell you!”

There was silence at the end of the phone.

“Charlie? Are you still there?”

“Yes . . . that’s wonderful . . . I . . .” His voice faded away.

“Charlie?”

“I . . . I’m sorry. It’s the best news—you must be . . .” She heard him blow out a breath. “It’s just that . . . I’ve had some news, and it’s not good. They’re shipping me out next week.”

“Shipping you out?” She stared at the phone.

“The army’s winding things down here. They don’t need as many troops. They’re sending a bunch of us back to the States.”

“But . . .”

“I know, honey. We can still do it, though. There’s enough time—just about . . .” His words hung in the air between them. “I don’t want it to feel like I’m rushing you. God knows it couldn’t be a worse time. But if we don’t do it now . . .”

She didn’t need him to spell it out. “It would be all over for us, wouldn’t it? They wouldn’t let me into America.”

“Well, they might, but right now, it’s anybody’s guess when that could be.”

“It could be years from now.” She felt as though someone else’s voice was coming out of her mouth—a calm, rational voice, weighing it all up—while hers was trapped inside, screaming at the unfairness of it all.



Martha and Delphine had been to the warehouse to see what they could find for an impromptu celebration. They went back to the office clutching a bottle of Coke.