Page 123 of Villa of Secrets

It is 6 p.m., and I write this as I sit at the end of Spartili Street, gazing out to sea. I am waiting to catch a glimpse of the Athens Ferry as it approaches the island. It takes the ship about an hour to get from here to the deep port in Rhodes Town. Memories surface. Irini and I watching lovers kiss goodbye. Me, dressed like a child, stabbing packets of pumpernickel. Nathanial sitting in the café, watching me. So much has happened in the past three years.

Sonia is asleep in her pram, and I will leave her on Mrs Spanaki’s porch when I go to meet the ferry. Doctor Michalis has offered me a lift to the port to fetch my brother. He wants to keep an eye on me, in case I have a relapse.

I see the ferry, a spec on the horizon, and my heart is racing. I’ll slip my diary under Sonia’s mattress and update it this evening, when everyone is asleep. The plan reminds me of how I would slip out of bed in the hut, to write my journal, while Irini and Evangelisa slept. But there is no time to reminisce now, I must take Sonia to Mrs Spanaki and then hurry to the doctor’s.

*

I had never been in a car before and became very excited about it. I took in every detail of the fine vehicle. Inside, it smelled of wood polish and new leather. I wore my best clothes, and red lipstick that a neighbour had lent me. I also put a dab of her ‘4711’ eau de Cologne behind my ears because Mama wore it, and Jacob and Mama were close.

The journey to the port took half an hour. I watched people waiting for the ferry. An air of excitement surrounded me, everyone talked too loudly. I felt the presence of Irini beside me and wanted to reach out and hold her hand.

Oh my darling Irini, how I miss you.

In my letter, I told Jacob that Evangelisa had died in a shooting accident. I knew I would have to explain more fully, but I feared how he would take the news that I had killed our sister.

The ferry came into view. Everyone surged forward, staring at the passengers pressed against the ship’s rails. I searched the sea of faces for my brother. I thought of Papa and Mama, Danial and Samuel. I had a man’s handkerchief somewhere in my handbag. I fumbled, sniffing.

Oh Jacob!

I glanced over to the doctor’s car. He stood with one foot on the running board, his elbow on the roof, posed elegantly as he smoked a cigarette. He lifted his trilby, nodded, and smiled.

Passengers disembarked. They lugged brown suitcases with worn corners, bulging canvas bags, crates of chickens, a horse, bicycles, coach-built prams, pushchairs, and motorbikes.

People shouted and whistled. Pandemonium grew as travellers tried to board while others continued to disembark with their goods.

I waved my big white hankie and called, ‘Jacob! Jacob!’ whenever a young man went by. The man who stopped and stared looked too old to be my brother. His pallid skin stretched across the bones of his face, eyes sunken with dark circles beneath.

‘Dora,’ he gasped. ‘Dear, sweet, Dora!’ He dropped his bag and hugged me.

I recognised my brother’s voice, but I didn’t believe the decrepit, wizened creature that approached could possibly be Jacob. I battled to hold my tears, seeing the gauntness of him, so old before his time. What had happened to the chubby, bright-eyed brother that was taken from Rhodes only three years ago? His wide smile had gone, his strong, broad body was wasted and stick-like, and the alert twinkle in his eye dulled to nothing.

I recalled unforgettable photographs in the newspapers, mountains of naked bodies, starved to death, skin and bones. My heart broke with love and grief for my departed family.

Jacob cried too, his bony ribs shuddering against me, our heads pressed against each other.

I don’t know how long we held each other.

We both looked up, sniffing and blinking away tears. The doctor said, ‘Welcome back, Jacob,’ then reached out and shook his hand. ‘Let’s get you home.’

*

‘Do you mind if I take a siesta, Dora?’ Jacob asked. ‘I’m so tired. The ferry took fifteen hours, and I found it impossible to sleep on the deck. Horrid memories.’

‘Of course. Your bed’s ready, but before you go, I must tell you something.’ I hesitated, worried.

‘Go on,’ he said.

I pulled on the string around my neck and held my wedding ring. ‘I have a daughter, Sonia; she’s two years old. She’ll be here when you wake, but I wanted to explain now.’

‘What! You had a baby . . .’ He stared at me, shook his head slowly, and then stared at the ring while digesting my news. But . . . the father?’ he said after a moment.

‘There’s no father, Jacob. He went off to war and didn’t come back. She’s mine, and that’s all that matters. I’m heartbroken that her father never saw her.’ I spoke the truth; there was nothing else to say.

‘Did you marry him, Dora? Does she have her father’s name?’ he asked urgently.

‘How could I officially wed him, Jacob? I was a Jew in hiding. However, we were joined in matrimony by a capitano who had the power to conduct such a ceremony. We exchanged oaths and he gave me this wedding ring. We are married in the eyes of God. Sonia’s father saved my life on the day you were taken. He took care of me, and I loved him with all my heart – a heart that’s broken now, a heart that will never love another man. Sonia is all I have left of our love, so she’s doubly precious to me.’

He nodded slowly. ‘I see. It must have been difficult, alone with a baby.’