Page 84 of The Ringmaster’s Daughter

‘“The baby!” she cried. “Get my baby!”

‘I did not know how I was going to achieve it. I ran to the woman, but her husband was quicker. He punched me three, four or maybe five times. He knocked me unconscious.

‘When I woke, the carriage was quiet.’

‘The baby was gone, and Frieda?’ Michel asked.

‘Yes… the baby was.’ Werner looked at him, confused. ‘But my darling girl sat on the bed in tears, rocking and crying for her child. I held her to me, kissed her, promised her we would call the police, get our child back.

‘“But he is the police,” she explained. “He is. I ran away, Werner, because they wanted me to marry someone I hated. So I ran and ran, and I found you – we found each other.”

‘Her mother was devoutly Jewish, her father goodness-knows-what, other than a hard, mean man who had viciously beaten her and her mother.

‘“We’ve lost her,” she cried. “She’s lost to me.”

‘She lay back on the bed and stayed that way for weeks. We were forced to move to another town as the police had been sent out to us – her father’s handiwork—’

‘Did you get her back?’ Michel interrupted.

‘Frieda – well, yes, yes I did.’ Werner raised his eyebrows at Jean and Giordano.

‘No, I mean the baby?’

‘Yes, the baby came back,’ Jean said. ‘Are you feeling all right, Michel?’

‘Wait, so the baby came back?’

‘Yes.’ Werner nodded.

‘OK, so what happened to Frieda?’ Michel said slowly.

‘She. Came. Back,’ Werner said slowly.

‘From where?’ Michel asked.

‘From her grandparents.’

‘So, after the mother took the baby, Frieda went to them?’ Michel asked.

‘Oh my goodness! What are you not understanding, Michel? The baby was Frieda!’ Giordano stood, waving his little arms in the air.

‘Wait… you thought… Frieda and I? That Frieda gave birth?’ Werner was laughing now. ‘You fool! You fool!’ He held his belly as Jean and Giordano joined in.

Michel could not speak. His face was slack, eyes wide.

‘But, but…’ was all he could manage.

Werner’s laugh slowed. ‘All this time you thought Frieda was my wife?’

‘You said I couldn’t go near her. Everyone protected her, said she was yours. Even Jean warned me away.’

‘Of course I did! Go after the boss’s daughter? Not a great idea!’ Jean exclaimed.

‘I needed to protect her, Michel. That’s what a father does. It took me years to get her back – years. And when I did, I swore not to let her go again.’

‘And her mother?’ Michel asked quietly.

‘Éva? She left me. She had a choice to make and she chose Frieda – better to have one parent than none at all.’