With a sigh that turned into a yawn, she laid down her pencil. The sketch was finished now. The next stage would be to turn the design into a paper pattern. She was glad that Mrs. Grabowska was going to make the dress. Sewing it herself would have brought back painful memories of sewing back in the workshop at Blumenthal’s with her mother close by, checking her seams and darts.
As she cast a critical eye over what she’d drawn, she thought of what it would be like to go back to Vienna. For all she knew, the shop was no longer there. The city had been bombed, just as Munich had—and the sight of those ruined streets had been horrific. If only Father Josef’s letter to the bishop would bring some news, some fragment of hope to make the journey back home bearable. It was a little easier now that the others knew. Martha had made it clear she would do everything in her power to allow Kitty to make that journey. But Kitty was still terrified of what she might find when she got there.
CHAPTER 14
The chapel in the woods took on a fairy tale look for the day of the wedding and baptism. Trails of foliage and ivy had been arranged around the door. Wild roses and honeysuckle had been woven into the leaves, forming a fragrant archway for the bride and groom as they stepped outside. The bride wore a garland studded with cornflowers and forget-me-nots. Her hair had been intricately braided, and the dress Kitty had designed shimmered like moonlight on water as she walked.
They had named their baby Rodek. Martha was holding him as she followed the couple out. The baptism part of the ceremony had gone without a hitch. Despite their worries about tripping up over the Polish words, she and Delphine had delivered their responses without a single mistake. Rodek hadn’t made a sound during the ceremony, even when Father Josef had doused his forehead with water. The only sign that anything had disturbed him was his little hand opening, the fingers splaying out then closing, like a sea anemone. Now he was fast asleep, his cheek very white against Martha’s fuchsia-colored dress.
She glanced across to where Delphine and Kitty were standing. Delphine was showering the newlyweds with handfuls of rice, and Kitty was taking a photograph. Kitty looked lovely in a yellow polka-dot frock that swung out as she moved. Delphine was wearing a black shift dress trimmed with white—the very essence of Parisian chic. For weeks now, the three of them had only been out of uniform when they were getting ready to go to bed. They’d had fun, getting ready for the wedding—putting on lipstick and making corsages from sprigs of lily of the valley picked in the woods.
“You want me to hold him?” Stefan suddenly appeared at Martha’s side. She hadn’t seen him in the chapel. He must have crept in after the ceremony had started.
“I’m okay, thanks.” She was surprised how normal her voice sounded. She was okay. Holding Rodek seemed to have a magical effect—like a soothing balm.
“I will take him when your arms fall off.”
Martha smiled. Stefan leaned in closer, stroking the baby’s cheek with his finger. She could smell the forest on him—a faint scent of pine. She knew that he’d been decorating the mess hall for the wedding reception.
“Lucky boy,” Stefan murmured.
“Yes,” she said. “He is lucky—if he’d been born on the train, he might not have survived.”
Stefan darted a curious half smile at Martha. “That is a nice dress,” he said. “I hope the baby does not . . . how do you say it in English?” He touched the corners of his mouth with his finger and thumb and ran them down his chin.
“Drool?” Martha laughed.
A cheer went up from the wedding guests. Aleksandra and Marek were having their first kiss as husband and wife. Then they began to move off, and the guests formed a procession behind them.
There were audible gasps when people entered the mess hall. It looked as if the forest had come inside. The boughs of pine softened the ugly concrete walls and gave the room a fragrance that masked the usual smell of boiled cabbage. The tables had been arranged in a horseshoe shape around three sides of the room, so that everyone could see the bride and groom at the far end.
“You did a great job,” Martha said, as Stefan pulled out a chair for her.
“Watch now,” Stefan said. “This is a special thing in a Polish wedding.”
One of the guests was walking past the tables, carrying a big loaf of bread. He held it out as he walked, so that everyone could see that it was decorated with the initials of the bride and groom, made from interlaced strips of dough. Then he presented it to the couple. They each broke off a piece, then dipped it into a bowl.