‘It will be, don’t worry,’ Teddy said confidently. ‘Those monsters are not going to walk, to get off scot free. They’re all going to be punished, to swing at the end of ropes. Hanging is too good for them, in my opinion.’
‘An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth,’ Irina muttered almost to herself.
Leaning forward urgently, Teddy focused her eyes on the other woman and said tremulously, in a worried tone, ‘You haven’t mentioned Prince Kurt von Wittingen… he wasn’t captured and executed as well, was he?’
‘Not by the Nazis.’ Irina’s bright blue eyes clouded over, and she took a long draw on the Lucky Strike she was holding before elucidating further. ‘Actually, Teddy, no one really knows what has happened to him. Kurt was in Berlin this summer. I didn’t see him myself, but another member of our resistance group, Wolfgang Schroeder, did. Wolfgang exchanged greetings with Kurt, and a couple of days later he saw him again. This time talking to some Russian officers in that part of Berlin which is now the East Zone. But Kurt has never been seen by anyone since then. He just vanished.’
‘Like the Westheims and the von Tiegals did.’
Irina made no response to this comment at first, then she murmured quietly, ‘It wasn’t quite the same.’
‘Do you think the prince is dead?’ Teddy asked.
‘He might be. When Kurt did not surface at the end of the war, we thought that perhaps he had been injured in the last-ditch fighting. Some of it was still going on, even after the Russians had overrun the city and taken it. And so we searched every hospital. Berlin was turned upside down, and many people were questioned. Another member of our resistance group, Dieter Muller, made a second and more thorough search, but Kurt was never found. Nor was his body.’
‘Could it… could the prince’s body be buried under the rubble?’ Teddy ventured, recalling what Anne Reynolds had told her about the bodies rotting in the ruins of the city and in the river.
‘That’s always possible, of course,’ Irina conceded. ‘But Dieter Muller has another theory. He believes that Kurt was arrested by those Russian officers whom Wolfgang Schroeder spotted him with. Perhaps on that very day.’
Teddy sat poised on the edge of her seat. She had listened attentively and was full of questions. But she asked the princess the most obvious one. ‘Whyever would the Russians want to arrest Prince Kurt von Wittingen?’
‘Perhaps because they thought he was a spy,’ Irina suggested. ‘More precisely, a spy for the Americans, and that would surely make him an enemy of the Soviet Union. They’re very paranoid, you know, these Bolsheviks, especially about the Americans. In that respect they take after their leader, Josef Stalin, another tyrant with blood on his hands.’
‘And you? What is your opinion? Do you believe that the prince was arrested?’
‘I simply don’t know, Teddy. I wish I did.’
‘I went to the von Wittingen house the other day… and of course you know that it is no more. Like the rest of Berlin, it’s a pile of rubble. Is Princess Arabella in Zurich?’
‘Yes, she is. She came back to Berlin as soon as she could this summer, but with Kurt missing, her home destroyed and nowhere to live, there was nothing here for her. She returned to Switzerland with Diana and Christian.’
‘I thought perhaps she had done.’
‘Arabella is… Well, to be truthful, she’s not herself anymore. Since Kurt’s disappearance, her mind has—she’s a little confused at times.’
Teddy looked stricken. ‘How dreadful. I’m very sorry to hear that. Poor woman, she’s such a good person, and she’s always so nice with everyone. Anyway, at least she has the children.’
‘Diana and Christian are a great comfort to her, yes.’
The two women did not speak for a while, drifted with their own thoughts. Finally, it was Irina who broke the silence which had settled between them.
‘Oh dear, all we have spoken about are sad things, Theodora. Painful things. And when we haven’t seen each other for six very long and trying years. It’s my fault, of course, I’m the one who’s been doing most of the talking.’ Irina sat forward with a certain eagerness, and suddenly, with a lovely smile, exclaimed, ‘I want to hear all about you and Maxim and the life you’ve made in London! Everything now, you mustn’t miss anything out.’
‘I won’t,’ Teddy promised, also smiling. ‘And actually I do have a lot to tell you.’ She reached into her bag, searched for the packet of snaps, and when she found this she glanced up and said, ‘I have some beautiful photos of Maxim, I brought them with me for his parents. They’re going to be so proud of him when they see him again. He’s very grown up, the most wonderful boy.’
Irina Troubetzkoy could not speak.
She stood up unsteadily and walked across the floor to the sideboard where, with shaking hands, she made a pretence of looking for something in a drawer. It was imperative that Teddy did not see the anguish on her face, the tears which blinded her.
THIRTY-SIX
It was late in the afternoon when Teddy returned to the cellar on the Lutzowufer the following day.
The princess had obviously been waiting for her and the door was opened instantly, after only one knock. Teddy found herself being greeted cordially and ushered into the little abode, as the princess insisted on calling the cellar.
To Teddy it was a miserable hole in the ground, dark, damp, fusty and insanitary, and she could not bear to think of anyone living there, especially Princess Irina Troubetzkoy. Yet Teddy knew she was powerless to help her change her lot in life, at least at this moment. She had spoken at length about the princess to Anne Reynolds last night, who had promised to keep an eye on her, and if possible make her life a bit easier whenever she could, and this had pleased Teddy.
Irina had lit the paraffin stove earlier and the cellar did not seem as cold and as damp as it had been yesterday, even though it was a rainy day; the candle and the two oil lamps burned brightly and added to the feeling of warmth, the illusion of cosiness.
After helping Teddy off with her coat, Irina said, ‘I thought you might like a little Schnaps. It will warm you, Teddy, it’s awfully cold out there this afternoon.’ She waved her hand in the direction of the sideboard, and then carefully placed Teddy’s coat over a chair back.
Teddy glanced at the sideboard and saw that the princess had put out two chipped crystal glasses and a much-depleted bottle of Kirschwasser from the Black Forest. ‘Thank you, that would be nice,’ she answered, even though she did not feel like cherry brandy right now. On the other hand, she did not want to offend the princess, who had obviously gone to a lot of trouble to spruce up the cellar, make it more inviting. And the precious drop of Kirschwasser, which was all there was left in the bottle, was yet another kind gesture from a woman in the most pitiful of circumstances.
‘However, before we have a drink I would first like to give you this,’ Teddy said, picking up the shopping bag which she had put down on the floor when she had entered the cellar. ‘I was able to get a few things for you, Princess Irina.’
‘How kind of you, Teddy,’ the princess said, her eyes lighting up.
Carrying the bag over to the sideboard, Teddy began to take out some food, saying as she did, ‘Here’s a packet of Typhoo tea, real coffee, chocolate biscuits—delicious American ones, too—a loaf of bread, and a quarter of butter. Then there’s some tinned items. Spam, corned beef, salmon, and sardines, all from the American PX, and a tin of powdered egg, one of powdered milk. Plus a few other things in the bottom of the bag. Come and look.’
‘My goodness!’ Irina exclaimed, sounding flabbergasted. She had not expected such a large quantity of food stuff, and her face was a picture of gratitude as she joined Teddy near the sideboard. Almost reverently, she touched the items which Teddy had already unpacked before peeking into the bag. Then she turned to Teddy in astonishment. ‘Toothpaste, toilet soap, and… Oh Teddy, how wonderful! A tube of Max Factor lipstick and Apple Blossom toilet water! Thank you, thank you.’ She t
ook a step closer and embraced Teddy affectionately, gave her a warm smile.
Teddy said, ‘I’m glad to help you in any way I can, Princess Irina.’
‘And where in heaven’s name did you get all of these wonderful things?’
‘From Mrs Reynolds, of the International Red Cross, the lady I told you about, and her secretary, Elizabeth Jefford. They both gave me some of their own rations, and Mrs Reynolds was also able to get a few extra things for you from her friend, Major Evans, who’s with the American Occupation Forces. It was the major who contributed the red lipstick, Princess. And Mrs Reynolds gave me the toilet water for you.’
‘How very generous and kind of them. You must thank them all for me. Imagine, lipstick!’
‘I think you’re more thrilled about the lipstick than the food,’ Teddy exclaimed and began to laugh.
Irina also laughed. ‘Not really,’ she said. ‘But it’s a treat to have something truly feminine after all this time, and years of deprivations of all kinds. Now, shall we have the Schnaps?
‘That would be nice.’ Teddy walked over to the sofa where she seated herself, and sat watching the princess pour the cherry brandy into the liqueur glasses.
This afternoon Irina Troubetzkoy looked more like the woman she had been before the war, almost her old self, Teddy thought. She wore a black wool dress, old-fashioned, very dated and obviously from the 1930s, thick black stockings and sturdy black walking shoes. Nonetheless, despite the drabness of the clothes, there was a certain elegance about her, a special kind of dignity which had a lot to do with her aristocratic bearing. Her hair was as magnificent as it had always been—a wonderful, burnished auburn, and, surprisingly, there were only a few sprinklings of silver amongst its luxuriant waves. She found a way to wash it today, Teddy thought. Irina’s face was also scrubbed and shining, not dust-covered as it had been the day before when Teddy had found her working in the rubble. And the princess looked her real age, not a woman in her late forties which she had appeared to be yesterday; in the flickering lamplight she was as beautiful as she had ever been.
Irina gave Teddy the glass of Kirschwasser, and said, ‘I would like to toast you, Teddy, to say many, many congratulations on your engagement to be married.’ She clinked her little glass against Teddy’s, and added, ‘I was so pleased when you told me about it.’
‘Thank you very much.’ Teddy took a swallow of the liqueur, being careful not to drink from the chipped side of the glass.
The princess also sipped her drink, then went and sat down in one of the chairs facing the sofa.
Reaching forward, Teddy put her glass on the packing crate, opened her handbag and took out a small photograph in a leather frame. ‘I only had snaps of Maxim with me yesterday,’ she explained. ‘This is Mark, my fiance.’ As she spoke she handed the picture to the princess.
‘And what a nice-looking young man he is too, Teddy,’ Irina said, looking at the photograph. ‘And obviously very brave, if these decorations on his uniform are anything to go by.’
‘He was in the Battle of Britain.’
The princess nodded and handed the frame back to her. ‘After you left yesterday morning, I remembered that you had been going out with Professor Herzog’s son before the war. I believe they lived further down on the Lutzowufer. As I recall, the young man went to Palestine in 1939… whatever happened to him?’
‘Willy is his name, and he didn’t stay very long in Palestine. He moved on, went to Shanghai. He’s still there, but hoping to go to America one day,’ Teddy told her. ‘We wrote to each other regularly, and I never thought of another man until I met Mark. He and I truly fell in love, and it was only then that I realised I had to write to Willy and end our unofficial engagement.’
‘And was Willy Herzog heartbroken?’
Teddy shook her head and gave a little laugh. ‘No, he wasn’t. He was rather relieved. He wrote back to congratulate me and explained that he, too, had met someone else, and had been wondering how to break the news to me. So, no broken hearts, and we have remained good friends. Actually, I should think Willy is married by now.’
‘And when are you planning to marry, Teddy?’ the princess asked, and took a sip of the cherry brandy she was holding.
‘Oh not yet for a while. I couldn’t possibly get married without Frau and Herr Westheim being present. Mark understands that we have to wait until I find them, or until they get in touch with me, as I know they will.’
Irina Troubetzkoy sat straighter in the chair, gaping at Teddy. She did not say a word, simply sat there staring blankly, and her face turned very pale.
Teddy noticed the sudden change in her and asked in a concerned tone, ‘What’s the matter? Are you ill? Don’t you feel well?’
Still the princess did not speak, and then, at last, she said faintly, ‘No, I don’t. But I’ll be all right. Just give me a moment…’ She placed the chipped liqueur glass on the packing crate and she saw that her hand trembled as she did so. Clasping her fingers together to stop them shaking, she bent forward from the waist, focused her gaze on Teddy.
Returning the princess’s gaze, Teddy couldn’t help thinking that her eyes looked more startlingly blue than ever and very beautiful. Then she noticed they were glittering with tears, and that her face had turned whiter, was as white as chalk.
‘Princess Irina, what’s wrong? Whatever is it?’
‘I have not told you the truth,’ the princess said in a voice pitched low. ‘Whilst I have not exactly lied to you, I have been less than honest.’ She shook her head and made a small, self-deprecating grimace with her mouth. ‘Why do I make excuses for myself? Why do I say that I have not lied to you, when I have? I have lied by omission.’
‘What… do… you… mean?’ Teddy asked nervously, slowly dragging the words out. They seemed to be stuck in her throat. She leaned forward herself, and frowned, examining the princess’s face. And at that moment she had a premonition and a terrible sense of dread swept over her.
‘I omitted—’ The princess stopped, took a deep breath, continued in a quick rush of words, ‘I omitted to tell you something, Teddy. Something I know about Sigmund and Ursula. Something I ought to have told you yesterday. I was going to several times, but my courage failed me.’
‘What?’ Teddy cried, her voice rising shrilly. ‘Tell me! Oh please tell me!’
‘Teddy dear… Teddy… you’re not going to find them. And they won’t find you, as you keep insisting they will. Ursula and Sigmund are not refugees trying to get back to Berlin, and they’re not about to be released from the camps.’ Irina said very shakily, ‘They’re not coming back. Not ever coming back.’
The princess now rose quickly and went to sit on the sofa, and she took Teddy’s hand in hers, wanting to help her.
Teddy’s mouth had begun to tremble and her eyes were wide and staring in her face, which was strained, pale with shock. She grabbed Irina’s hand strongly and peered deeply into her eyes, and said in a strangled voice, ‘They’re dead, aren’t they? Ursula and Sigmund Westheim are dead.’
The princess inclined her head. ‘Yes,’ she acknowledged in a whisper, and drew Teddy into her arms, held her close, with one hand pressed to her head.
Teddy was weeping uncontrollably. ‘I knew, really… deep down inside. I think I always knew,’ she sobbed, choking on her words. ‘I was always so afraid for them. They had a million to one chance of making it. I knew they wouldn’t… but I couldn’t admit it.’
Irina cradled Teddy like a child and tried to soothe her, to console and comfort her, and the two women clung to each other. But at one moment Teddy pulled away and cried out, ‘Oh God, why them? Why did it have to be them?’
Irina Troubetzkoy shook her head. She had no answer for her, just as she had no answer for herself.
***
The sobbing of the two women slowly began to lessen, and finally it stopped completely. They drew apart, sat up, and wiped their eyes.
Teddy asked quietly, ‘Where… where did they die
?’
Brushing her damp cheeks with one hand, Irina said, ‘Sigmund died in Buchenwald. In 1942.’
‘Are you sure?’
The princess nodded. ‘Kurt von Wittingen found out. Somehow… through the Krupp works at Essen… a group of inmates from Buchenwald were sent to work at one of Krupp’s slave camps. Mostly women. One of them, a Polish countess, had known Sigi in Berlin. She had seen him in Buchenwald, and passed on word of his execution. He was shot.’ Tears filled Irina’s eyes again, and she pressed one hand to her mouth, choking back a sob. After a moment, she managed to say, ‘Kurt was able to find things out all the time. But he couldn’t always do anything about what he knew. Only occasionally could he do that.’
Teddy pressed back her tears, and asked, ‘Ursula? Was she in Buchenwald?’
‘No. Ravensbrück. She died there in 1943.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Yes, I am. A member of our resistance group, Maria Langen, was imprisoned in Ravensbrück from 1943 until the summer of 1944, when she was unexpectedly released. She knew Ursula and Renata in the camp. They were there together. Renata died in Ravensbrück too.’
‘Were they shot? How did they die?’
Irina bit her lip and began to blink. She averted her head, swallowing repeatedly, sat gazing straight in front of her, and she held herself very still.
‘Please,’ Teddy said. ‘I must know.’
Irina swung to face her, gave her a very direct look, and the tears could no longer be held back. They fell out of Irina’s eyes and splashed down her face onto her hands in her lap.
In a voice that was barely a whisper, Irina said, ‘She was beaten to death.’
‘Oh my God, no! No! No! No! Not Ursula,’ Teddy shouted, half rising from the sofa. ‘Oh God, no, I can’t bear it! I can’t bear it!’ She was seized by a terrible weeping as the horror of Ursula’s agonising death struck at her, and at the thought of her suffering Teddy doubled over, in agony herself, and wrapped her arms around her body. And she went on weeping until there were no tears left to weep, rocking backwards and forwards, filled with pain.