Page 121 of The German Mother

‘I’m not quite sure. She was taken from us a month ago.’

‘As recently as that…And how old is she?’

‘She’ll be ten in the new year.’

The doctor raised his eyebrows slightly, and began to examine the pages one by one. From her position sitting opposite him, Minki could make out neat columns written in copperplate script.

‘You see, Frau vonZeller…we are most meticulous,’ said the doctor. ‘Every patient is listed – with their name, the illness that brought them here, their arrival and departure dates.’

He smiled at Minki encouragingly, before returning to the ledger and running his finger along the lines. ‘No, I can’t see her there…nor there, not there either.’

He turned the pages laboriously, checking each line, and when one book had been thoroughly investigated he laid it down and picked up another.

Suddenly, he sat up. ‘Ah, yes. Here it is…Clara vonZeller.’ His tone was clipped and efficient.

Minki leapt to her feet and leaned over the desk, trying to read the entry herself, but the doctor put his hand over the page.

‘I’m sorry, but this is confidential. Now, please sit down. You should prepare yourself for a shock.’

‘No…no, no,’ said Minki, tears welling up.

‘Your daughter’s condition was epilepsy – is that right?’

Minki nodded.

‘I’m sorry to say that she had a very bad fit soon after her arrival, and died.’

‘No, no…please that can’t be right,’ Minki gasped. ‘You must have made a mistake…’

‘No. I’m afraid there’s no mistake. And I must apologise – I should have recognised the name sooner. Now I remember…she was such a pretty child. I’m so very sorry.’

He turned towards the matron. ‘I can’t understand why the parents were not informed immediately. It’s most unsatisfactory.’

The matron looked chastised. ‘I’m very sorry, Doctor. It must have been an unfortunate oversight.’

‘I should say so…now, do we have the young lady’s effects?’

The matron blushed. ‘I’ll go and get them.’

Minki felt sick, her head spinning. She was in a state of shock – disbelieving – and stared at the doctor. ‘You’re actually saying that my daughter is…dead? But surely people don’t die of epilepsy, do they?’

‘I’m afraid on occasion they do, Frau vonZeller. I will have the death certificate drawn up for you immediately. Everything will be in order.’

Minki felt numb, her mind a void. She sat, weeping, struggling to comprehend what had happened. ‘But surely…this is a hospital – how could you let her die?’

‘I agree, it’s most regrettable, but these things do happen on occasion.’ He smiled grimly, and stood up, as if the meeting was over. ‘Well…Frau vonZeller – if there’s nothing else?’

‘Where is she, Doctor? I mean…where is her body.’

‘In our cemetery, of course. But her remains can be returned to you, if you wish. Parents often prefer to have their loved ones’ remains close to home.’

‘Her remains…’ Minki murmured, staring up at the doctor.

‘When Matron comes back with your daughter’s effects, we will arrange for you to visit her grave,’ said the doctor. ‘There is no headstone, you understand, but we have a map of the plot, marking every burial.’

The matron returned with a brown paper parcel, tied with string. Minki laid it on her lap and carefully opened it. Inside was the little blue dress Clara had been wearing when she was taken – washed and ironed. There was her hairslide, her favourite doll, a pair of socks and her new little shiny black shoes, still barely worn – Minki had bought them for her only shortly before she was taken. As she touched each item, she recalled Clara wearing the dress – the colour matching her eyes – and sobbed. Finally she folded the dress up again and returned it to its brown paper wrapping along with the rest of her child’s belongings.

‘Is this everything?’ she asked.