Chapter Four: Hannah
Two years had passed since the end of the Second World War. Merely six months, however, passed after General Russell had finally returned to his French wife and his quiet sea side residence in America. His motive for staying in Japan after the war was rather simple. He merely wished to witness some of the reconstruction process in the land of his former enemies. Having seen so much destruction and suffering, he yearned for that little glimpse of hope for the new beginning. The hideous war crimes had ruthlessly exposed that the human minds, in their collective madness, were capable of fully materialising their vision of Hell into reality. He had seen enough of pain and misery caused by the willingness to deny and sacrifice individuals for the glory of the nation. He wanted to see the individual Japanese emerge triumphantly from somewhere in the battered consciousness of the collective Japan.
It was a mild summer's night when Hannah was found, carefully wrapped inside a basket. No one knew her exact origins. She had unmistakable Asian features on her face. But her skin colour was pale white and her black eye lashes were unusually long for a child of Asian origin. It was likely that she was a product of union between two people of different races. But there was nothing inside the wooden basket, which hinted how or why the baby was there. She was simply abandoned in front of the gate of the large house that belonged to James and Charlotte Russell. No one knew how long she was left there. She wasn't crying when she was found but she greedily sucked the milk that was given to her and her nappy was soiled. The case remained as a mystery as the police failed to trace her biological parents. When the police closed the case, James and Charlotte adopted her despite the rumours, stubbornly and widely held by the locals, that she must have been a love child of the former General.
Charlotte was fully aware of the rumours. However she could not find it in her heart to refuse her husband's wishes to adopt the baby. She was already in her early forties and yet childless. She knew James had been faithful to her. He never looked at women with desire. He never seemed to be interested in sex in any case. Perhaps it was his rigid Protestant upbringing but the physical activity did not seem to delight him in the least. She did not challenge him. Her religion also told her that sex was an evil that must be contained in marriage, its sole purpose being the creation of a child. After 10 years trying for a child, they simply ceased to share the same bed. When he came back from Japan, she began to suspect an unnerving change in James. With a sense of quiet alarm, she came to the realisation that James no longer cared for his religion. Yet his indifference to the marital bed remained the same. And this stubborn indifference which survived longer than its origin suddenly started to infuriate her. She wanted to be free. She wanted to be with another. And these thoughts horrified her. She needed a distraction from her own desires that was beginning to question the wisdom of Catholic teachings. She needed the baby.
James too knew about the misguided yet strangely comforting accusation. All his life, he was afraid, afraid that people would find out his secret desires. He had been desperate to deny their existence, to be normal just like everyone else. Both his religion and the society he lived in condemned and feared them. He too condemned and feared his desires for other men. That fear was the main force behind his marriage, although he undeniably loved and was comforted by Charlotte's beautiful singing voice, and his obligatory sexual performance that lasted 10 long years. His faith in his religion died during the war yet he was still afraid of being found out. Everywhere the old values were slowly dying but the changes were torturously slow, especially in his sea side town. The suspicion that he fathered Hannah, though not exactly a pleasant experience, finally let him believe that people would never suspect his true sexual orientation.
Hannah was a bright, thoughtful and obedient child, never causing a grief to her adopted parents. She was however strangely independent as a child, never seeking out a human company. She showed no interest in playing with other children. Instead she would surround herself with books and lose herself in her own thoughts. Hannah's intelligence and thirst for knowledge pleased James. The volume of books in his already large library grew fast thanks to the child's unending hunger for books and James' desire to see Hannah's intellectual growth. Charlotte, unable to compete with James' knowledge and intellectual curiosity, took charge of Hannah's music lessons and French lessons. Although Hannah did not show any major potential in singing, she learned the piano with ease and some enthusiasm. Her linguistic talents made French lessons a pleasing experience for both the mother and daughter. When she came to an age for a school, her parents, James with conviction and Charlotte with much reluctance, decided to hire a private tutor as they agreed that Hannah would benefit more from individually tailored learning and that children could be cruel to Hannah in their unguarded remarks. Although the town was getting used to the gentle little girl, they never forgot the illegitimate nature of her birth.
Hannah had a secret as a child. It was her inability to clearly distinguish between reality and stories. If anything, the real world seemed less real to her than the world created by thoughts and words. Her mother's attempts to instil Catholic beliefs in Hannah behind James' back did not help. Although she was fond of her mother, she could not relate to religious conviction. The values of society felt foreign to her and she often observed people and events as though watching a black comedy. She also found it difficult to have a purpose in her life. When her parents asked her what she wanted to do when she grew up, she had no real answer to offer. No profession appealed to her. Neither did she feel any desire to get married. But Hannah was an observant child and knew she had to keep her thoughts to herself. She knew her true feelings and thoughts could frighten people, even her parents who she had gentle affection for. In her struggle to offer a pleasing answer, which was further complicated by the conflicting expectation of her parents towards her, she would smile sweetly and evade the real question. "I would look after you when I get older. That's all I want." She was watching her life, never living it fully. Yet she lived the stories she read or dreamt.
Both James and Charlotte were grateful that Hannah had never asked them why she looked different from them. Such a thoughtful child. They would think with pride. It would have been difficult to tell her that she was not really their own. The simple truth was however it never bothered Hannah that she looked very different from her parents. While she too was a curious child, the objects of her curiosity usually remained in the realm outside her daily life.
When James passed away within a year after Charlotte's death, Hannah was left with the large house where she grew up as well as generous amount of savings. She was now 20 years old, still a child of solitude. Yet the savings would not last her lifetime if she did not find a profession. A translator. She smiled to herself as the prospect of forcing herself to venture into the daunting reality was easing away. I could work as a translator. She was grateful that her parents were so generous with her education. She was fluent in no less than 5 different languages. She fondly thought of her parents while glancing a last look at the estate she spent a contented childhood. "Good bye, Mama and Papa. I will miss you." She began her packing. It was time to move to Paris even though she had no idea why she felt this urge to be in Paris.