Chapter Thirty Five
A Question Of Trust
There was a blinding pain throbbing over Sybil's left eye. Whether or not it was the effect of her pregnancy, suddenly she felt sick. Her stomach heaving, she turned away and retched violently into the wash basin. For a moment she was aware only of the misery of her own body; then, solicitous as ever, as if what had just passed between them all had never been, Tom was instantly by her side, helping her gently over to the bed.
Uncharacteristically unsure as to what she should do, for the moment, Edith remained standing alone in the middle of the compartment while Sybil sat down heavily on the banquette; Tom busied himself about the room, fetching a flannel with which to wipe her face and then ran her a glass of cold water, at which Edith herself became practical and swilled out the hand basin.
Kneeling on the floor beside Sybil, watching her intently, Tom now held out the brimful glass to her.
"Here, take it" he said.
Sybil found herself doing as Tom had bidden her; taking hold of the tumbler, she guzzled the water in great, greedy gulps. At length, she set down the empty glass; wished for one brief instant that she'd thought to fling its contents in his face, but immediately realised the thought as wholly unworthy, for, as she looked at Tom, searching his well-loved face, it was now that she saw the tears welling in his eyes. She saw him glance up at Edith as if seeking her approval for something he was either about to do or else say.
Although Sybil couldn't begin to imagine what that might be, she realised now that she had let her quick temper get the better of her and so much the worse for that. There was something more here; that was obvious from the looks the two of them were now exchanging, something that she herself did not understand. That in itself made her uneasy. And yet, at the back of her mind, she had the strangest feeling that her initial assumption had been very wide of the mark; that everything would indeed be all right, that they would go on as before, as if none of this unpleasantness had ever been.
Sybil saw Edith incline her head. Tom smiled wanly, then nodded.
"Yes" Edith said. "It's time".
Tom turned back to Sybil, reached forward and placed his hand on the light swell of her belly.
"Tell me, my darling, what matters most in this world to you, to me?"
Both the directness and the simplicity of his question took her completely by surprise, so much so that, despite all that had just happened between them, all that had been said, Sybil enfolded his hands within her own.
"Why... our children, you... us" she offered miserably. Sybil sniffed heavily, wiped savagely at her falling tears with the back of her hand.
Tom nodded his head, his thumb threading a gentle path down the skin of her tear-stained cheek.
"Precisely" he said softly. "Our children. For whom you, or I, would do anything... to keep them from harm, to protect them, to keep them safe. As would Mary and Matthew for Robert, for Simon and for Rebecca, as would Edith here for young Max. As indeed would any parent".
Tom glanced at Edith; Sybil saw her nod, saw too that her eyes were filled with tears. From the tone of Tom's voice, Sybil realised instantly that what he himself had just said had been by way of a statement and not a question. That being the case, she nodded her head in full and complete agreement with what he had said.
"Of course, but I don't see what that has to do with any of..."
"Sybil, darlin', I swear to you, on the lives of our three children, on the life of this little one, this isn't what you think. None of it. You're my life; always have been, ever since I met you, always will be".
The sincerity in Tom's voice was unmistakable and with that, at last, Sybil's anger began to ebb. She managed to ghost the faintest of smiles.
"I don't know what to..." Sybil looked up; she glanced across at Edith, saw her smile gently. Then, just as swiftly, Sybil's eyes alighted back once more upon Tom.
"Sybil, do you trust me?"
Dark blue eyes looked into blue grey. Sybil gasped. Had it come down to this? After all they had shared. Did he really have to ask that of her? On reflection, given her earlier outburst, in the circumstances, it was, she reflected, a perfectly reasonable question. Sybil opened her mouth, began to make the conventional answer.
"Tom, darling, do you have to ask me that? Of course. I trust you..." She wanted to say more, to take back what she had said, to unvoice her suspicions, born both of tiredness and fatigue, of having to keep the news of her pregnancy secret until she was certain everything was going to be all right. Now, she found the words simply wouldn't come. She stopped; blinked her eyes, fighting back her tears.
"Hush now. Well then. Come" said Tom, now holding out his hand to Sybil. "We don't have much time". He glanced across at Edith, once again as if seeking her confirmation; he saw her nod her head. "Sybil, darlin', there 's something I want to show you" he said softly.
So now, with Edith following close behind them, willingly taking Tom's outstretched hand, almost in wonderment, Sybil let herself be led forward by him, out of their compartment, thence along the dimly lit corridor of the swaying train in the direction of the bathroom at the far end of their carriage.
In the space of a couple of minutes, they had reached the door of the first of the two empty compartments. Tom paused.
"Here, let me" said Edith squeezing past the two of them. She knocked gently on the door.
Sybil looked quizzically at Tom.
"But there's no-one in ..."
"Wait" he said quietly.
There was a sudden jolt and the train began to slow down. In the darkness beyond the windows of the carriage Sybil glimpsed here and there a scattering of faint pinpricks of yellow light, realised they must be the lamps of a town, but a handful to begin with, and then gradually more and more.
"Aix-les-Bains" said Edith glancing nervously at Tom.
He nodded.
"Keine Angst! Das bin ich. Es ist ganz sicher. Sie brauchen keine Angst zu haben" she whispered to the closed door.
Sybil looked at her questioningly.
"Hopefully that should do the trick" Edith said softly.
A moment later, and from beyond the door there came to Sybil's ears the faintest of sounds; a faint, stealthy rustling, followed by a slight click, as the latch of the compartment was drawn back. The door opened slowly and two small pale, pinched faces, those of a young boy and a young girl, looked up at the three of them from out of the darkness beyond the door.
Edith said something else to the young boy in German, presumably asking if they could all step inside the compartment, for, now having opened the door further, the boy and girl retreated from view and disappeared inside into the darkness. Followed by Sybil, then by Tom, Edith stepped briskly inside, fumbled momentarily for the light switch, while Tom closed the door firmly behind him. Having found the switch, Edith flicked it and a minute later the light came on.
In the now brightly lit compartment, in front of the three adults, seated nervously on the unmade bed, Sybil found herself looking down in astonishment at the two young children. Both of them were clean and tidy enough, but for all that, also slightly dishevelled, suspicious and clearly frightened; the little girl especially so. The dark haired boy held his arm protectively around her. Sybil judged him to be much the same age as Danny, perhaps a little younger and the girl perhaps two or three years younger than that. From the marked similarity of their facial features she thought they must be related; perhaps a brother and his sister. Edith's next words confirmed that to be the case.
"This is Josef Meyer and his sister Emelie. They're the youngest two children of friends of Friedrich and mine. They come from Eisenstadt, that's in the east of Austria, close to the border with Hungary". Edith smiled fondly at the two children.
"But what are they doing here, alone, on this train, in the middle of the night and why all the secrecy?" asked Sybil still mystified.
"I told you how difficult things were starting to become, in Austria, for those who are Jewish?"
Sybil nodded her head.
"Yes..."
"Well, recently, things have been going from bad to worse. Anyway, demonstrations, marches and mass meetings organised by the Nazis, invariably end up with attacks on Jews and their property. Understandably, the Jews have begun to fight back, organising their own Self-Defence Organisation throughout Austria".
"But what about the police? Surely they..." began Sybil.
"Many of the Austrian police are Nazi sympathisers, so when there is trouble of the kind I've just mentioned they often just stand idly by, do nothing, or, what is infinitely worse join in".
Sybil saw Tom nod his head; at the same time, recalled to mind what they both had seen down in Cork of the awful brutality of the Royal Irish Constabulary, let alone acts of sickening and unspeakable violence committed by British soldiers, during the Irish War of Independence and thereafter during the Irish Civil War. Sybil could visualise all too well the situation which Edith was now describing.
"But fighting back, well, that brings its own dangers..."
Author's Note:
I am most grateful for all the kind reviews, helpful criticism, suggestions and PMs I continue to receive about this story. However, as I have said before, to those of you who prefer stories where the action is all neatly wrapped up in one chapter - each to their own of course - then this is not for you.
And, for those of you who have been kind enough to ask, the delay in updating my two stories has been down to matters domestic! Normal service has now been resumed.