‘Thanks, Ben! But you are right,’ said Sam, ‘I have to find her first. Over the years I have written to the aid organizations that are stationed in Bremen but with no success.’
‘Well,’ Helene said, putting her hands decisively on her hips, ‘I have family in Berlin. I could write to them and ask if they can offer any advice on how to find her.’
‘And I still have contacts in the military,’ added Ben. ‘I could write to them.’
Their enthusiasm was infectious. ‘I’ll write to the Red Cross again,’ suggested Sam. ‘It has been a while since I asked them. Perhaps things are less chaotic now.’
‘Come,’ ordered Ben in an authoritative tone, ‘let’s sit around the table and decide on a plan.’
Helene rushed off and returned almost immediately with a pencil and paper. They settled around the table amid their scraping of chairs and observational chatter.
‘You sit there.’
‘Let me have the pencil and paper.’
‘Does it need sharpening?’
‘No, it’s fine.’
‘Move over a bit.’
‘Not too loud or you’ll wake Michael.’
‘Are we ready?’
They all nodded in agreement.
‘First we need to know her full name,’ Helene said with the confidence of a commissioned officer in the army.
Sam rested his forearms on the table. ‘Elsa Kalbach.’
‘Do you know the names of any of her relatives? It may help to narrow the search.’
Sam recalled their stolen moments together. ‘She had a sister, Frieda, and a brother, Otto, although he died in the war. I don’t know the names of her mother and father.’
‘And the child?’
‘Klara had a false name. I can’t remember her surname. Her real name was Miriam Leske, but I don’t know if she would use it. If I find Elsa, she will have Klara or know if her family was found. She would not have abandoned her.’
‘Then we will concentrate on Elsa. What does she look like?’
He reached into the inner lining of his jacket, withdrew a battered wallet and laid it on the table. They watched as he carefully opened the leather flap and slowly, tenderly, withdrewthe folded drawing Otto had sketched of his sister. ‘She gave me this. It is a good likeness of her.’
Ben turned it to face him and his wife. ‘This is Elsa?’ he added needlessly.
Sam nodded.
‘She’s pretty,’ observed Helene.
‘Her brother was very talented. It is sad that such talent was wasted.’ He passed it to Helene. ‘We could have copies of it made so we can send it with our letters.’
Helene gently touched its edges. ‘You have carried this in your wallet all these years?’
Sam slowly nodded and swallowed down the emotion that always rose up from his chest whenever he looked at it.
‘Sam, a man does not carry something around with him every day that reminds him of his guilt. It is not guilt that makes you want to offer her marriage and rescue her from a broken country. It islove.’
* * *
