Page 21 of The Lost Story of Sofia Castello

20

LISBON, 1940

Over the next few weeks, Judith and I fell into an easy routine. Judith spent her days queuing at Lisbon’s main post office in Commercial Square to see if her cousin in Brooklyn had written back.

I went with her once and it broke my heart to see the queue for the poste restante counter. It always snaked out way beyond the door, a long line of anxious refugees all waiting to receive word from a relative or benefactor overseas who would help them escape – or at least that was the hope. The tension was palpable as they watched the clerks painstakingly sorting through the boxes of letters, postcards and telegrams arranged in alphabetical order, wondering if today would be their lucky day, and trudging away despondently at the apologetic shake of the clerk’s head.

I spent most of my days rehearsing for the expo in a studio with Emilio and the band he’d put together and pinching myself on a regular basis that by some miraculous twist of fate I was now a recording artist. And the Vadodara Teardrop, which had come to feel like a third person in our friendship such was its importance, remained hidden inside the old coat, which remained hidden under the mattress on my bed. Every night, after checking the diamond was still safely in place, Judith and I would spend hours at the kitchen table, talking, laughing, eating and becoming effortlessly closer.

One night, as we sat down to a dinner of tender garlic-infused pork and fried potatoes, she presented me with a posy of wildflowers, their stems tied together with a pink satin ribbon.

‘I wanted to get you something to say thank you for all you’ve done for me,’ she said, smiling sweetly.

‘They’re beautiful!’ I exclaimed. ‘I love their vibrant colours.’

‘They say that the earth laughs in flowers,’ she said. ‘Or, at least, that’s what Ralph Waldo Emerson once said.’

‘I love that!’ It really tickled me to think that every time the earth was amused, it chuckled up a primrose or a daisy.

‘I know they’re not much, but one day, when I’ve finally made it to America and this stupid war is over, you’ll have to come and visit me and I’ll get you a real thank-you present. I could take you to see a show on Broadway, or to a restaurant by Central Park.’ Her eyes shone with hope.

‘You really don’t need to thank me at all – you’ve done way more for me than I have for you.’

She pulled a comical pout. ‘Hmm, protecting me and the Vadodara Teardrop from the Nazis is hardly nothing.’

‘But you inspired the song that helped me win the competition to sing at the expo, which could change my career forever. And it’s not just that.’ I fiddled with the ribbon on the cheery flowers. ‘Having you stay here, getting to know you…’ I looked back at her, my eyes swimming with tears. ‘It’s the closest thing I’ve felt to family since my mother died.’

‘Oh, Sofia!’ She leaped up, came around the table and hugged me tight. ‘I feel exactly the same. It’s like you’re my sister – my jacaranda seed sister.’

I laughed through my tears. ‘Yes! I’m so glad we ended up being blown together.’

She sat back down, and I raised my glass.

‘To the jacaranda sisters!’

‘The jacaranda sisters,’ she said, giggling as she chinked her glass to mine.

The next day we arranged to meet for a late lunch at the Santo Antonio tavern on my break from rehearsals. As soon as I walked in the door, Judith came flying over to greet me, a beaming smile on her face.

‘I finally heard from my cousin,’ she exclaimed, waving a telegram in my face. ‘She’s helped arrange my entry visa. I can go to America!’

‘Yes!’ I cried, and we hugged and danced for joy. ‘So, what does this mean?’ I asked once we’d sufficiently calmed down and taken a table in the corner. ‘What will you have to do next?’

‘I’ll have to register with a shipping line. And I’ll need to get my vaccination before sailing. Apparently, there’s a six-week wait for tickets to sail, but that’s OK – at least I know I can go, and it gives me more time with you.’ Her face beamed with joy.

I felt a sharp pang as I realised the full implication of her news. It was one of the most bittersweet moments I’ve ever experienced. Judith would be safe, but I would be losing my best friend. ‘I’m really going to miss you,’ I murmured.

‘But it won’t be goodbye forever,’ she said. ‘We’re jacaranda seed sisters, remember. We’ll see each other again as soon as the war is over.’

‘You’re damn right we will!’ I exclaimed. ‘And that’s an order from your bossy big sister.’

‘You’re the best bossy big sister ever!’ she exclaimed, grabbing my hands and clasping them tightly.

‘OK, I’m going to go and boss the chef into giving us a special celebratory dish,’ I said, laughing as I got to my feet.

I’d only been in the kitchen a minute when Judith came flying in after me, her face white as a sheet.

‘Sofia, he’s here!’ she gasped, instantly turning my blood to ice. I didn’t need to ask who; there was only one man capable of making her look so terrified. My heart sank, heavy as a stone. It had been so long since I’d last seen Fischer I’d allowed myself to get a little complacent, even hoping that he’d forgotten all about Judith and that wretched diamond.

‘Don’t worry, you’ve got your wig on – he won’t have recognised you,’ I consoled, hurrying over to the kitchen door and opening it a crack. Sure enough, I saw Fischer, sitting at a table by the window with another smartly dressed man in a suit. The notion that members of the Gestapo should turn up bold as brass at a lunch for refugees made me overwhelmed with dread. It was like a pair of cats turning up at a lunch for mice.

‘Do you think he knows I’m here?’ Judith asked, trembling like a leaf in a breeze. It made me so sad to see her so vulnerable and scared again. In the time we’d been living together she’d really come into her own.

‘Of course not. You look completely different.’ I quickly cast my gaze over her blonde hair, make-up and plum-coloured dress, as much to reassure myself. She didn’t look like a refugee at all now, but, given the setting, that would make her stand out in a totally different way. ‘You need to leave by the back door and go straight home to the apartment,’ I said.

‘Aren’t you coming with me?’ she asked, her eyes wide with fear.

‘I’ll be back soon; I just need to make sure that he stays here so you can get away safely. If he leaves, I’ll come straight after you.’

‘OK.’ She nodded and gave me a grateful smile. ‘Thank you.’

‘Of course.’ I gave her a quick hug. ‘Now get home safely – and that’s an order from your bossy big sis!’

She gave a nervous laugh before exiting through the back door.

I hurried back to the door to the restaurant and peered through the crack. Fischer was still at the table, but his companion was nowhere to be seen. He must have just gone to the bathroom, I told myself.

I turned back to see the chef about to throw some fish into the bin.

‘Why are you throwing them out?’ I asked.

‘They’re on the turn,’ he replied.

‘In that case, I want you to make them for the gentlemen sitting at the table by the window,’ I said, and he frowned at me like I was crazy. ‘They’re in the Gestapo,’ I whispered.

He raised his eyebrows. ‘It would be my pleasure to undercook these fish for them,’ he said, reaching for one of the frying pans hanging from hooks in the ceiling.

I laughed and breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a close shave, but Judith had got away and she’d soon be on a boat to America, and that monster Fischer was about to get his just desserts in the form of a rotten mackerel!

As soon as the fish had been served, I hotfooted it out of there and back to the rehearsal studio. Thankfully, Emilio didn’t keep us for too long, and I set off for home at just gone five. On the way back to the apartment, I stopped off at a store to get Judith a new leather-bound notebook, as I’d noticed she was nearing the end of her current one, and a set of pens as she would surely need them to keep her occupied on the long voyage to America.

‘Your bossy big sister has a gift for you!’ I cried as I came through the door.

Everything that happened next seemed to take place in slow motion. The room looked as if a bomb had hit it. Most of the furniture had been upended, and all the drawers in my cabinet were lying upside down on the floor, their contents scattered about.

‘Judith?’ I said, my voice coming out like a squeak. ‘Are you here?’

I crept through to the bedroom to find her old, battered case open in the middle of the room, with all of her clothes strewn around. In a fit of panic, I tried to reassure myself that maybe she’d been looking for something in a hurry. But then I saw her beloved book on plants had been torn to shreds.

‘Judith?’ I said weakly, hoping she might be hiding somewhere. I checked the bathroom, where I found my marble pot of talcum powder emptied into the sink. And then I saw something that chilled me to the core. Judith’s blonde wig was in the bath. Surely, she wouldn’t have gone out without it on.

‘Judith!’ I called more urgently, running over to the wardrobe and flinging it open. All my clothes had been pulled from their hangers and were lying in a tangle at the bottom. My knees buckled and I sat down on the bed, overcome with fear. ‘What’s happened to you?’ I whispered.

This didn’t make sense. Kurt Fischer had stayed in the tavern after she left. He couldn’t have seen her, could he? But what about the other man he’d been with? I’d assumed he’d gone to the bathroom, but what if he’d slipped out and seen Judith leaving. What if he’d followed her to the apartment?

‘Oh no!’ I cried. And then I remembered the diamond. ‘Oh no, oh no,’ I muttered as I saw the old brown coat on the floor at the end of the bed, the lining torn out. I picked it up and felt it in desperation. But there was no telltale teardrop-shaped lump. I did find something in the pocket though – an envelope with my name on it in Judith’s handwriting. I opened it with trembling fingers.

Dear Sofia,

Thank you for being the best bossy big sister in the world and for all you’ve done to help me. I can’t wait until we can properly celebrate in America!

All my love,

Judith

My heart sank. She must have bought me the card after getting the good news about her visa, just as I’d bought her the notebook and pens. I looked at my gifts to her lying on the floor where I’d dropped them in shock and I felt sick to my stomach. Having tried so hard to keep herself and the Vadodara Teardrop safe from the Nazis, they’d found her, just when it seemed like her luck had changed. Just when she’d been given the promise of freedom from their clutches. And even worse, I could have been to blame by telling her to leave the taberna without me and, in doing so, serving her up to the Gestapo like a fish on a platter. The thought was horrifying.