Page 30 of Villa of Secrets

Others joined in the song, but the guards blew their whistles or yelled. I flinched, terrified, when a shot fired. Someone screamed. Behind me, people shouted but I dared not look back again.

*

I have to stop for a moment. I’m crying as I write about these events that took place only this morning. It seems like a lifetime ago. I must try and be objective, unemotional, and record the facts as they happened. That’s what journalists do. . . stay true to the story, but it’s difficult when the facts concern your family and friends – the people you love. Yet now, more than ever, I owe it to my family to keep up this journal.

*

As the commotion took place behind me, we drew alongside the biggest truck. With one long sideways step, I slipped under the vehicle and hid in the dark shadow between the rear wheels.

Because of my small size, I discovered I could almost stand upright. I pressed myself against an inner tyre, watched the feet of my friends, neighbours, and family trudge past. Hot metal from part of the wheel dug into my back, and I feared it would burn through my dress. The sirens howled. Confused emotions rose inside me, but with the sound of the air-raid warning, came hope.

I searched the distant sky for bombers heading our way. The British had inadvertently destroyed much of our synagogues and Rhodes Old Town, attempting to score points against the Germans. Would they come now, bomb the Nazis to death and save us all?

Clearly, the Jews of Rhodes didn’t want to leave the island. Distraught women wept against the chests of their husbands. Men with their chins thrust forward held their weeping wives, mothers, and children.

The stench of rubber from the tyres burned my throat. I squeezed my eyes closed to calm myself and get rid of the tears, then I peered at what I could see of the sky from under the truck, searching for planes.

What if the soldiers found me? Papa would be disappointed that I hadn’t managed to escape. He relied on me to take care of Evangelisa and the sheep.

Air-raid sirens continued. The shiny black car with German flags up front, drove onto the quayside. Because the people in the car were lower than the soldiers and captives, I feared they’d see me. I flattened myself against an inner wheel. Suddenly engulfed in exhaust fumes, I realised the vehicle had reversed and its back end almost touched the lorry, giving me more cover.

When the fumes cleared, I slid to the edge of the wheel and stared at the ships. The scene that met my eyes branded itself into my mind and I knew it would stay with me for the rest of my life. I dropped to my knees and peered from behind the car. Joined by an officer, Frick Hendrik Nüller strutted along the quayside. He pointed his baton at the ships and laughed. Then he stood tall and arrogant, his eyes narrow and the smile of satisfaction clear on his face.

All he had to do, to change everything, was lift his stick and order everyone off the boats.

Do it! Set my family free!

He didn’t. He gloated. He talked loudly with the officer in charge, saluted, and then returned to his vehicle.

There had to be something I could do. But a cold feeling in my stomach told me the situation might worsen.

Until that moment, I had never truly hated anyone before. I stared at that man’s face, determined to remember every feature, and I swore to myself that if ever I got the chance I would send Frick Nüller straight to hell for what he had done to my loved ones.

One day, Frick Hendrick Nüller, I will find your family and I will take them from you.

Why didn’t Papa want me with them? To tell the truth, I would rather work for the Germans and leave Evangelisa and the sheep with Irini if it meant being able to stay with my family. What a shameful thing to think! Evangelisa is my family too. Her family is on that ship and she doesn’t even know what’s happening. Horrible as the time has been, at least I had experienced another two days with them all. I had to have something ready to tell my sister when I got back to the hut; but what? My mind was all over the place.

I tried to calm down by thinking about my brothers. Jacob, who’s seventeen, was nowhere to be seen. Samuel, twenty last Thursday, and Danial, twenty-one, stood with Papa.

Danial spoils me. Sometimes, very late at night, he brings me a glass of Mama’s lemon and barley. He sits on my bed and tells me where he’s been and who with. There’s a curfew, so he’s not supposed to be out after dark, but on Saturday evenings he meets his girlfriend and a few others. I’m thrilled to hear of his adventures. Once, they put a trip wire across the street and a German soldier fell over it. I told Irini and she said she could fall in love with Danial.

He goes to amazing parties where they play music and dance the jive and jitterbug. Each week, his girlfriend writes down the latest popular song and Danial brings it home for me and Irini to memorise the words. I don’t know why that memory made me want to cry right then.

I stared at the ship. My brothers stood at the rails peering over the quayside. I longed to run out, waving my arms, so the Nazis could put me on the boat with everyone else. But my family expected me to take responsibility for Evangelisa. Being grown up isn’t all I imagined.

I wanted to be with them. Better to be in their midst than under a German truck, but Papa had his reason for making me hide, and I trust him completely. I wonder if they’re really going to Kos, they say it’s a beautiful island. I could take the ferry and visit them if I had the money. Then I remember the Russian dolls.

On our bureau stands a brightly painted babushka doll into which Papa empties the small change from his pockets each evening. He wouldn’t mind if I borrowed a little to buy me and Evangelisa a ticket to Kos. Aunt Martha bought the dolls for Mama years ago. There are seven pieces and, over time, each of us have claimed a doll, Papa has the largest; Evangelisa, the smallest.

Thinking about the dolls, fitting together as perfectly as my family, calms me down. We all belong together.

I caught sight of Aunt Martha. She dabbed her face with a lace handkerchief. Her other hand on the shoulder of my Uncle Levi. She wore her usual red lipstick and, around her neck, the fox stole with ruby-glass eyes bit its own tail. Although impossible to see from that distance, I knew an extra fine hairnet kept her freshly permed curls in place. She always appeared perfectly groomed, even after the torment of L’Aeronautica.

Aunt Martha’s daughters, Sadie and Purl, hugged their parents. They wore their Friday best. My dear granny, one of the first on the ship, gripped the rails, stretching her neck and peering up and down the quay. She’s not good on her feet, but far too proud to use sticks. Her pale face and sunken eyes worried me. She didn’t look well and I wanted to hold her hand.

Papa must have told everyone I’d escaped and I sensed their thoughts were with me, each of them silently wishing me luck. I longed for the moment I would be able to hug each of them again.

A starved dog with protruding ribs and short hair the colour of toffee, bounded towards the truck. I tried to shoo it with my hands but, persistent and playful, he wouldn’t leave. The creature cowered at my ankles, submissive, turning its great brown eyes to meet mine. ‘Go away!’ I whispered, but he licked my feet and whimpered. The soldiers were only metres from me. I ducked, and quickly dodged around the truck’s front tyre, but the dog persisted, so excited at this new game he stopped to cock his leg against the tyre.