As she ran her finger along the line of type, her spirits dived. The age was wrong. This woman was fifty-six. She’d never been sure of her mother’s exact age, other than knowing that she was younger than Kitty’s father, who had celebrated his fortieth birthday a few weeks before Kitty left for England. Back in Manchester, when she’d written to the Red Cross asking for information about her parents, Kitty had estimated her mother’s current age as forty-five.
The next list was no good—not a single name beginning with the letter B. She’d just begun working her way down another when the telephone rang.
“Miss Bloom?” It was Sergeant Lewis. “I have two women here. And a baby. They want to come in. Could you come and speak to them?”
Sinaida Sikorsky beamed when she saw Kitty. She introduced her daughter, Magdalena, and her grandson, Jacoub, who was fast asleep in his mother’s arms. Then she launched into a description of the little boy’s entry into the world, sparing none of the gory details. Kitty glanced at Sergeant Lewis, who was looking on, bemused. Just as well he couldn’t understand any of it, she thought.
“Mamo, prosz? . . .” The younger woman tugged at her mother’s arm, clearly embarrassed at having such intimate facts broadcast to a couple of strangers. Kitty wondered how she had the strength to hold her child—she looked transparent, with dark circles under her eyes.
“Chod? ze mn?.” Come with me. Kitty led them along the tree-lined path to the cabins. She hadn’t worked out how she was going to explain the presence of the two other mothers already occupying the one assigned to Sinaida and her family.
When Sinaida walked through the door, she let out a little gasp of amazement. “Pi?knie!” It’s beautiful!
Magdalena nodded her agreement. Jacoub opened his eyes and began to wail.
A voice called from above them: “Kto tu jest?” Who is here?
Kitty was about to launch into an explanation, when the owner of the voice, a woman named Anka, came down the stairs. Sinaida’s reaction to the sight of her was explosive. She called her a German whore, followed by a volley of words Kitty couldn’t comprehend.
At the sound of his grandmother’s shouting, Jacoub’s cries increased. But Sinaida was shaking her fist at Anka, seemingly oblivious to the distress she was causing.
“Mamo, przestań!” Mama, stop! Magdalena put herself between Sinaida and the other woman, her hand protecting the baby’s head.
Kitty was horrified. She’d anticipated some hostility, but not physical violence. She moved quickly, ushering Sinaida toward the door. Being head and shoulders taller than the older woman helped; it gave her an authority that belied her lack of experience.
Once they were outside, she told Sinaida that if she wanted to remain in the camp, she was going to have to calm down and be prepared to get along with the other women in the cabin. She added that it would only be for a few nights, until the new accommodations were ready.
“Wola?abym spa? w lesie!” I would rather sleep in the forest! The look Sinaida gave her was murderous.
“Dobrze.” Good. Kitty called her bluff, jerking her head toward the trees. Watching the woman’s face, she felt as if she could hear the cogs going around in her head. For Magdalena and the baby to sleep outdoors would be out of the question. If Sinaida persisted with this defiance, she would be spending the night alone on a bed of pine needles with wild animals for company.
Sinaida glanced back toward the cabin. For a moment Kitty thought she was going to turn around and walk back inside. But the woman suddenly dropped to her knees. She hunched over, her shawl covering her head like a tent, and her shoulders shook with silent sobs.
Kitty didn’t know what to do. She stood there, frozen, appalled at what her ill-judged words had triggered. If only Martha were here—or Delphine. Either one of them would have been beside Sinaida in a flash, crouching down beside her and putting an arm around her shoulders. But not Kitty. Invisible strings held her limbs like the wooden marionette that had hung on the wall of her bedroom in Vienna.
The door of the cabin opened, and Magdalena appeared. The baby had calmed down and was lying peacefully in her arms. She glanced at her mother, then darted an apologetic look at Kitty. Sinking down beside Sinaida, she spoke in a soft, low voice. Watching them, it was as if the roles had been reversed—the daughter had become her mother’s mother.
Kitty couldn’t catch all of it. But she did hear Magdalena say that Anka had a little boy that she loved just as they loved Jacoub, in spite of what his father had been.