The American Lady(152)

Wanda’s hand trembled as she took the receiver. The line crackled and hissed; then she heard, “Hello, Mrs. Steven Miles here.” That cool, familiar voice!

“Mother!” Wanda blinked rapidly so that she did not cry. Five minutes was so little time . . .

“Wanda?” her mother asked incredulously. “Are you already back from Italy? I thought that today was—”

“Mother, I have dreadful news!” Wanda broke in breathlessly. Her heart was in her throat. And before Ruth could say anything, she went on, “Marie is dead. She died after she gave birth to her daughter. I held her hand. She wasn’t alone, do you understand me? She was buried two days ago, it was awful.” She heard her mother take a breath at the other end of the line. Then she heard a soft moaning. Wanda didn’t want to imagine the blow she had dealt her mother with her words.

“Sylvie, that’s her daughter, is well. Marie’s last wish was that I should take her back to Lauscha. That’s what I’m doing now. I’m in Munich . . .”

All at once she didn’t know what else to say.

“Mother?” she whispered when the silence at the other end of the line stretched on and on. “Are you still there?”

“Yes. I . . . pardon me, please, I . . .” There was a sound as though Ruth was blowing her nose, and then she said, “I can’t believe it. It’s . . . did she suffer very much?”

Wanda bit her lip. Should she tell the truth—or . . . ?

“No. She wasn’t in any pain,” she answered. “She had a fever, do you see?”

“Fever . . . Does Johanna know yet . . . ?”

Wanda shook her head. Then she remembered that her mother couldn’t see her. “No. How could I even have told her? It will be a dreadful shock for them when I get home tomorrow with the baby in a bassinet . . .”

“Have I heard you right? You have Marie’s daughter there with you? You’re traveling alone with a newborn baby, such a long way . . . How . . . how did Franco even agree to let you take his daughter away?”

“Franco? I didn’t even see him, but that’s another story. Mother, don’t worry about me, I’ll manage. I’ll call again when I get back to Lauscha. And I’ll write as well!” Wanda felt a surge of love and tenderness. She would have given anything to ease her mother’s pain!

At last Ruth recovered her voice.

“Believe it or not, I had such a . . . strange feeling these last few weeks whenever I thought of Marie. When Johanna told me that she hadn’t been in touch for such a long time . . . My Marie . . . all the same . . . after the birth . . . I can hardly believe that she . . .” she sobbed. “I’m glad that she wasn’t alone when it happened. It must have been such a comfort to her to have you there at her side. I’m proud of you,” she whispered.

“Oh, Mother, the things that happened in Genoa . . . I can’t tell you about them, not yet! But I did everything I could, and I—”

Wanda took a deep breath. This was no time to lose track of her thoughts.

“But there’s one thing I have to tell you now—I promised Marie I would look after her daughter. Richard and I will do that. Sylvie needs me. She’s such a sweet little thing! Marie said she looks like your mother . . . Mother, please understand, I can’t come back to New York, not now!” Wanda held her breath.

“Yes, I . . . understand that,” Ruth said in a hollow voice. The next moment a crackle drowned out her words. “. . . can’t come . . . journey . . .”

How could that happen now, of all times! “What did you say, Mother? The connection . . . Mother, I have to go soon,” Wanda yelled into the receiver.

“I said if you can’t come, then I’ll just have to make the journey myself!”

Wanda couldn’t believe her ears. Mother wanted to come to Lauscha—after all these years?

“As soon as we hang up, I’ll call and reserve a cabin on the next ship out. Perhaps . . . Steven will come with me. If not, then I’ll come on my own.” Ruth’s voice was much stronger now, decisive. “We Steinmann girls have to stick together, don’t we?”





34

There was not a soul to be seen on the single platform in the provincial station. So why weren’t they pulling out? Wanda’s gaze fell on the round clock on the platform. Two o’clock already! If this went on, she wouldn’t get back home before nightfall.

Finally the train departed, snorting and shaking. Wanda very nearly felt like climbing out to help push it herself.

They had stopped at least five times since leaving Munich. Every single time the harsh squeal of the brakes had woken Sylvie, who had promptly begun to cry. Wanda found it hard to put her back to sleep. And every single time the smell of burning coal made its way into their compartment, irritating their eyes and noses. Wanda’s handkerchief was already sooty, and she felt as though she’d spent the night in a coal mine.