Gilde steeled herself and got up to open the dressing room door. She took the folded paper. Then she grabbed a few coins from her purse and tipped the adolescent boy who was looking at her star struck.

  Damn you, Archie, she thought. Why was she still so damn attracted to him? She hated him, but he still had a strange power over her that filled her with rage.

  She tore open the letter and read:

  “I have to see you. There are so many things that you don’t know, that you don’t understand. Things I have to tell you. It is not as clear as black and white, Gilde. There were circumstances that forced me to abandon you. But, the truth is I should never have left you. I made a mistake. I love you. Meet me tomorrow at eleven a.m. in front of Big Ben. I’ll be waiting and praying for your forgiveness. Please show up.. All I ask is that you give me a chance to explain, with deepest love, Archie.”

  Part of her wanted to see Archie, to punish him, to make him sorry for what he did to her. Part of her wanted to tell him about his child, to tell him about Alden. She wanted Archie to know how hard it was for her when he’d abandoned her. He should know that it had been the roughest time in her life.. But the biggest part of her was afraid to see him, afraid that somehow all of the anger, the hatred, the attraction, and the mixture of emotions she felt towards him would draw her right back into loving him again, and that was something she didn’t want to risk. The whole thing made no sense, but at the same time, it made all the sense in the world. Could she walk away? She’d waited so long, dreaming that the day would come when she could hurt him the way he hurt her, but if she did it, she just might get caught in her own web. And besides that, what the hell was he talking about? What had caused him to leave her? What were the secrets that she didn’t know?

  Big Ben at eleven tomorrow morning. She read the letter again She would have to be out of her mind to show up … but would she be able to resist? Damn him to hell….

  CHAPTER 4

  Gilde

  Gilde’s life had changed in so many ways since she’d begun to find popularity in the theater in London. Her voluptuous figure, quick wit, sharp sense of humor, and strong voice appealed to the audience and within a few months it seemed that she had her pick of several parts. Her life was almost perfect. Almost. If she could change one thing, she would find a way to spend more time with Alden and her daughter, Vicky, who was just shy of one year old. In the whirlwind and excitement of living a public life, her marriage was suffering. Because she’d asked him to, Alden had moved from the hospital in Birmingham to take a job as a surgeon in London. This was so they could remain together while Gilde pursued her career. And although he’d done it willingly, she knew he missed his old job and his old friends. Sometimes when she was alone in her dressing room after a performance, she would wonder if Alden didn’t resent her career. How could he not? Before she’d begun acting they’d had a beautiful marriage. Yes, he’d been working long hours, but she had always been there to greet him when he got home. Now, she too was working long hours and Vicky was being raised by a nanny. The life of a performer was exciting, no doubt, but Gilde wondered if she wasn’t giving up precious time with her daughter and husband…time she would never be able to get back. The theater, the people, the fame, it was all so seductive, but a voice in the back of her mind said “be careful, Gilde.”

  Gilde sat in front of the mirror in her dressing room staring at the letter in her hand. She had to be out of her mind to go and meet Archie. Why was she even considering it? If she had half a brain she’d tear this letter to pieces and never show up at Big Ben. Leave him standing there waiting, that’s what he deserved. But she couldn’t; she had to know what happened. Curiosity? Was it? Or did she want to hear him beg for forgiveness. He’d hurt her so much, left her so alone and abandoned, pregnant with his child. She needed to hear what he had to say. She wanted to know why and how he could have done this to her. And, she wanted to finally have the chance to hear him say he loved her and then to tell him to go to hell.

  CHAPTER 5

  Lotti Berlin April 1945

  Nearly a week had passed since the Russians came into Berlin. There was nothing to eat in the apartment, nothing left at all, and there was no one to ask for help. The women who were still living in the building didn’t have any food either, and if they did, most of them would not have shared it with Lotti. Because of her marriage to Lev, many had shunned her. Lotti knew she had no choice but to venture out into the dangerous streets of the conquered city to try to find food.

  She glanced over at Berni, who was still asleep. Berni was doing much better. She was able to sit up in bed. With Lotti’s help Berni had begun to take short walks around the apartment as well. She was still weak, and there was no doubt that she needed food. But then, so did Lotti.

  When Lotti gazed outside the window of her apartment, it looked like a macabre horror show of strange characters; all of them seemed unreal. There were dead bodies in the streets—some murdered, some sick from disease or starvation. There were the walking dead, people who had been reduced to skeletons, barely alive. Some had probably been hiding, others in the resistance. Then of course there were those who had come out of the camps, their skin gray, their bodies broken, their eyes sunken in with the horrors they’d seen, still wearing the gray striped uniforms. They walked the streets aimlessly, leaving notes on tree trunks hoping to find lost family members. Women who had dared to resist the sexual advances of Russian soldiers lay dead and mutilated, many of them naked and exposed in vulgar and horrifying positions. German deserters hung limp and rotting like scarecrows from poles.

  And then, there were the Russian soldiers who walked through the streets like conquering gods Lotti gasped. She couldn’t help but think about Lev as she watched the concentration camp survivors stumbling along. If the Nazis hadn’t killed her husband, he would be one of the broken and starved people she saw everywhere, but he would be on his way home to her. God, how she wished that Lev had been a survivor. Lotti would have given anything to have Lev back in her arms. She would have spent the rest of her life loving him back to life and to health.

  Lev. Dear, sweet Lev. He was older than she Wiser. So kind, so gentle, generous, and loving.

  After Lev was gone, Lotti’d given up on men entirely. She closed the book on love in her life forever, and although she was only thirty-seven now, she had not been touched by a man in many years. To Lotti being raped by one of these wanton savages was unthinkable. But even worse, if they assaulted Bernadette, the girl would surely die. Her body was only just recovering. Lotti doubted that Berni could withstand a brutal sexual attack. Oh dear God, how could you have abandoned me this way? How could you have taken my Lev? Lev, oh God, Lev, I need your help. I am so scared, but then she bit her lower lip and opened Lev’s closet. This was the first time she’d looked at Lev’s things since his death. His clothing hung neatly, just the way he’d left it. “Lev,” Lotti whispered, burying her face in his shirt, trying to inhale a whiff of his essence. Tears stung the back of her eyes . “Lev, a day doesn’t go by that I don’t miss you,” Then she bent down and touched his black shoes. Her mind drifted back to the days when they were first married. In the morning she would lay with her head propped up on her pillow, watching him get dressed for work. He’d always sat at the edge of the bed when he put his shoes on, and after he was done, he’d walk over and kiss her goodbye before he left to go to the shop. Some days she would languish in bed for a few minutes, with her head on his pillow, thinking about their lovemaking the night before. Her throat closed; the pain of remembering the past was too overwhelming. This is not the time for sentimentality. Don’t think. Don’t think, just act, or Berni will be dead by nightfall. And you won’t be long after.

  She took one of Lev’s shirts off the hanger. It was a white cotton work shirt, one he’d worn often. Lotti couldn’t help but hold it against her cheek before she put it on. A tear slid on to the floor, but she ignored it. Then she took a pair of folded black pants and stepped int
o them. They were too big, so she tightened the belt. Well, most of Germany was starving. It wouldn’t look strange to anyone to see a man walking down the street wearing clothing that was too big for him She rolled her feet into a pair of Lev’s socks and stuffed the front of his shoes with old rags so that they would stay on her small, slender feet. Then she looked in the mirror. Her breasts and her hair were a dead giveaway. She tied a long scarf around her bosom, binding herself as tightly as possible What other choice did she have? When she was satisfied that her chest looked flat she put the shirt back on. Now came the difficult part. Her hair had to go. Don’t think, just cut, she told herself. The scissors sliced through her long locks. Lev had loved her golden hair. However, it was no longer as lush and golden; it had thinned out and was sprinkled with gray. As the curls fell to the ground her heart sank. But there was no time to be sentimental. It must be done.

  Short, shorter, until she looked like a man. The hair was cut unevenly . In some places it was so short that her scalp was visible. She couldn’t be sure how the Russians would respond to her if they thought she was a German man. She didn’t want to risk their anger. So, she decided that she would claim to be a Jewish man who had been in hiding in the forest. Lotti knew that her clothes had to look worn and disheveled. She pulled a kitchen knife out of the drawer and tore holes in the garments. Then she took dirt from a flowerpot that had once held a plant now dead, and smeared it on her face, clothes, and hands.

  Then she found one of Lev’s old hats, punched the top out, and placed on her head. We need food, we need water. I have to do this, I can’t give in to fear. IF we are to survive I must leave this apartment. Next, Lotti took what little cash she had and quietly said a prayer, one to God she was still angry with, and one to Lev. Then she left the apartment.

  CHAPTER 6

  Lotti

  Russian uniforms … everywhere she looked, they were like colonies of insects congregating outside of taverns and buildings. The conquerors were certainly proud of the power they held over the women of the city as they sauntered through the streets loud and laughing. Empty glass vodka bottles lay shattered on the pavement. Lotti felt her heart beating in her temples and for a moment she thought about running back to the apartment, but she forced herself to go forward. Picking up speed in her walk, Lotti passed an alleyway where a woman had been pushed up against a building. Her dress was torn and she was naked from the waist down. “Bitte. No….” The woman was crying softly, but the Russian soldier was not listening. He was pushing himself against her, and Lotti knew that the woman was being raped. Faster, she told herself. Faster or that woman could be you. She was almost running now. Then Lotti turned a corner and saw a man in a German army uniform lying on the ground, his face a mass of blood. He was being beaten with clubs and kicked by four Russian soldiers. His screams filled the streets. Don’t look. Don’t turn your head. Just keep your eyes forward and for God’s sake, keep moving.

  But just as she was about to enter a bakery, a Russian soldier wobbled over to her.

  “You want some water or food?” he said.

  What do I say? If he hears my voice he’ll know I’m a woman. She shook her head no.

  “You don’t need food and water? I think you do … and I think you are not a man…” he said, his eyebrow lifting as if he’d discovered a child playing hide and seek. A wicked smile came over his face and Lotti felt like she might vomit.

  A lump formed in her throat. He knew. He was probably going to rape her. She felt a phantom pain inside of her womb. Please, God, you have to help me … please not this.

  He pulled her into his arms. “You know, a woman looks very sexy in man’s clothes,” he said. Lotti wondered if he was just talking to himself or if he somehow knew that she was able to understand him. “To dress as a man was a spunky idea. I like that. I like a woman who is clever and has a little fire.”

  She didn’t smell alcohol on his breath. But she remembered Lev once telling her that vodka had no smell, and this man was stumbling like a drunk. Perhaps he was too drunk to overpower her. Lotti pushed him out of the way and started to run. He gave chase but tripped over a bump in the sidewalk and fell. She was still running when she ran right into the arms of another Russian soldier. He caught her, and when she looked up into his deep blue eyes, she felt a pang of terror rip through her heart.

  Her hat had fallen off. Her freshly chopped hair stood up in tufts.

  “What’s going on here?” the man said.

  She shook her head. “Let me go, please, let me go.”

  The man laughed. “I wasn’t capturing you. I was just trying to keep you from falling,” he said, letting her go. “Are you all right?”

  “No,” she said. “I’m not. That man is chasing me.” She turned around to see the drunken soldier lying on the ground.

  “Well, you seem to be safe now,” the Russian said.

  “I am not. I am not safe at all.” Lotti was shaking. She was afraid she was going to cry.

  “That’s probably true,” he said. “Where are you headed?”

  She had no choice but to tell him. After all, he could rape her right now if he wanted to. Why not try to make him pity her? “My friend is very sick. She needs a doctor. If she doesn’t get help, I think she might die. The streets are a terrifying place to be. Women are being raped … killed. Please … don’t hurt me, or force me….”

  “You don’t have to worry about that. I don’t need to force women to come to my bed. Plenty come willingly. And if it’s not their choice that takes the fun out of it, you know? So, pull yourself together and I’ll walk you to the doctor’s office.”

  “But that man?” Lotti pointed to the man who lay on the ground.

  “He won’t bother you. It’ll take him at least a day to sleep that drunken stupor off. Come on, let’s go.”

  She walked beside him and realized that he was tall and strong. Lotti couldn’t say that she liked him. But then again, he didn’t have to be a gentleman. From what she could see happening on the streets, few were. Maybe she could ask him how she might get some food. She’d been lucky to find this man. Very lucky.

  CHAPTER 7

  Gilde London Late April 1945

  Gilde sat with her legs crossed at the knee and her black handbag at her side. She was in the backseat of a taxi wearing dark sunglasses. They were parked across the street from Big Ben Her long golden hair was caught up in a twist and hidden under a dark hat that hung over her eye, obscuring the view of her face. She didn’t want Archie to see her first. Gilde had wanted to spend a few minutes watching him without his knowledge before she decided whether she would get out of the taxi and talk to him or go back to the safety of her home. However, if she left now, she would never know the answers to the questions that had plagued her since he’d walked out on her.

  From the shelter of the back seat of the cab, she could see him pacing slowly, unevenly. He walked with a severe limp and a cane from his war injuries. It was probably still painful for him to walk back and forth like that. As she watched, memories of the feelings she had once had for him began tearing at her heart. After all, even though Alden was the best father any woman could ever hope for, Gilde’s daughter’s biological father was Archie. As much as she hated him, his sperm had fertilized her egg and created Vicky. Her precious daughter. So, even though Gilde thought Archie was a bastard for having abandoned her when she was pregnant, she still felt a tie to him. He didn’t know that he had a daughter. When Archie walked out of her life, he knew she was pregnant. But she had not talked to him since, and so she had never told him that he had a child. Did he have a right to know? The way he’d behaved he didn’t deserve anything. Would he care anyway? He didn’t care then. He didn’t wonder what would happen when he turned his back on Gilde. He never called to see if his child had survived or been aborted or miscarried. He’d simply disappeared. What a bastard. Gilde sucked in a deep breath and smiled. It felt damn good that she was quickly rising to stardom and she was glad that he was
standing outside while the audience was calling for her. He’d seen her show. Good, she hoped he finally knew what he’d lost. The hopeless, helpless little Jewish girl without any family or real friends except for Alden was on her way to becoming rich and famous. Archie could eat his heart out. When she’d fallen in love with Archie, Alden explained to her that Archie was a Notman, and they were a family of old wealth that would never have accepted a Jewish daughter-in-law from a poor family. But what about a rising star? Gilde smiled thinking that now she too was a force to be reckoned with. She was finally his equal. With that knowledge planted in her brain, Gilde felt her confidence grow. It was time to face Archie. It was time to settle past grievances.

  “Thank you,” Gilde said, handing the cabbie ten shillings. Then she took off the hat and unpinned her hair, shaking it to her shoulders. With her head held high she got out of the car and walked towards Archie.