Free Finding Rebecca: A Novel of Love and the Holocaust by Eoin Dempsey

the nausea came again.

    ‚ÄúYes. I knew that his feelings for
her were blinding him. Sometimes I feel bad, for her as much as my own son. She
still doesn’t know that he never saw all those letters she wrote him. I glanced
through a few of them myself and I knew I had done the right thing. The things
she said…. they would have distracted him too much. He can be such a hotheaded
boy, led by his emotions. Who knows what he might have done? Gone over to her I
expect, and where would this family be then?”

    ‚ÄúI‚Äôm sure you did the right thing
Stefan. I know it wasn’t easy.”

    ‚ÄúI never meant to hurt him. I kept
every letter she sent with the intention to show them to him one day, when he’s
ready. I loved her as a daughter myself, there’s nothing I want more than to
see her back here one day, and if she was ready, with Christopher, sure.”

    ‚ÄúWhat if our father had done that to
you? Barred you from seeing Hannah?”

    ‚ÄúHe never had reason to.‚Äù

    ‚ÄúWhat if he had?‚Äù

    ‚ÄúI don‚Äôt know Uli, I really don‚Äôt
know. I think I would have found a way. I think…”

    ‚ÄúAnd you say that you and Christopher
are the same?”

    ‚ÄúYes.‚Äù

    ‚ÄúDo you still send her money?‚Äù

    ‚ÄúYes, when she needs it. She
understands that she can’t see Christopher now, that she would be too much of a
distraction to him. Usually she sends the money back, usually, not always. She
used to threaten to come back, to tell him the truth, but I knew she couldn’t.
If she could come back I wouldn’t need to keep her letters from him.”

    Christopher wrung his hands together
and pushed them hard into his face. They were still talking in the kitchen, but
he couldn’t hear them anymore just the rushing of his own blood and the
quickening pulse racing electric through his veins and he got up, stumbling up
the stairs and found his way to the top and into the bathroom and stared into his
own eyes again. He crouched down into a ball, his arms wrapped around himself.
He thought about Rebecca and the times when she needed him and he wasn’t there.
The times when she had reached out to him and he had not answered and the
hatred for his father surged through his veins. Christopher heard a knocking on
the door.

    ‚ÄúChristopher, are you in there?‚Äù

    He waited for a few seconds, not
knowing what to say but then the surge came again. “Get away from me. Just
leave me alone.” He threw his head back down into his hands, his chin tight
into his chest and waited for an answer that took thirty incredibly long
seconds to come.

    ‚ÄúChristopher,‚Äù his father said, his
voice more faint and distant than before. “Christopher, are you all right in
there?”

    Christopher leapt to his feet and
yanked the door open. His father was standing there at the door. He looked
sick. “Where are the letters?” Christopher shouted, trying not to slur his
words. His father jerked his head backwards as Christopher thrust a finger in
his face. “Where are Rebecca’s letters?”

    Stefan drew a breath and moved his
lips but never made a sound.

    ‚ÄúWhere are the letters?‚Äù Christopher
was square against his father now. He was taller than his father, not by much,
but enough that he was looking down on him. The sound of thundering footsteps
up the stairs brought Uli to them. “I asked you a question. Where are they?
They’re mine…” Christopher reached forward to grab his father by the lapels.

    ‚ÄúDon‚Äôt you touch me,‚Äù Stefan spat
through gritted teeth and Christopher drew his hands away. The door opened and
Alexandra was there, her eyes thin slits and her hair a mess.

    ‚ÄúWhat‚Äôs going on?‚Äù she asked but
nobody looked towards her.

    ‚ÄúHow could you do that?‚Äù Christopher
roared but the words caught