Free Magda's Daughter by Catrin Collier Page A

ones. Now it was the girl he loved.
    Helena leaned over Magda and gently touched her cheek. ‘She looks peaceful, doesn’t she?’
    Choked by emotion, Ned nodded. He had driven Helena and Alma to EastGlamorganHospital, so Helena could formally identify Magda’s body. Given his chosen profession, he had seen many corpses, but he hadn’t as yet become accustomed to the sight of death. Despite his tutors’ assurances to the contrary, he was beginning to doubt he ever would.
    Helena kissed Magda’s forehead.
    â€˜She does look peaceful,’ Alma agreed. ‘She’s lost that worried look that she so often wore in life.’
    â€˜Do you think I could cut a lock of her hair?’
    Helena glanced at Ned, but the nurse who had shown them into the room produced a pair of scissors from her apron pocket. Ned sensed that she had heard the request many times before. Alma stepped forward to help Helena. He left the room and went into the ante-chamber, where an official was waiting to record the formal identification of Magda’s body.
    â€˜My condolences at this sad and difficult time, Doctor John.’ Although the man must have uttered those same words a thousand times, he sounded sincere.
    â€˜Thank you.’
    â€˜I have had the pleasure of meeting your parents many times.’
    â€˜Have you?’ The question was inane, but Ned couldn’t think of another response.
    â€˜And, like everyone else in Pontypridd, I knew Magda Janek. A wonderful lady. She had a kind word for every customer, no matter who they were.’ He glanced through the open door into the room where Alma was wrapping a lock of Magda’s hair in a handkerchief. ‘It’s a terrible loss for her daughter. There are no other relatives?’
    â€˜None in this country,’ Ned confirmed.
    â€˜I’ll prepare the papers right away.’ He opened a file and unscrewed the top of his fountain pen.
    Ned leaned against the wall and waited patiently for Helena and Alma to join them. They came out ten minutes later. The only tears Ned saw were in Alma’s eyes.
    The official explained the post-mortem procedure to Helena. As Ned and his father had already told Helena what to expect, she didn’t seem to pay much attention. The official read the papers to her; Helena signed them. Then the nurse entered the ante-room, closing the door behind her. She handed Helena a parcel wrapped in brown paper, and a brown leather handbag.
    â€˜Mrs Janek’s clothes and effects.’
    Helena took them from her. Ned felt suddenly upset by the sight of Magda’s handbag although he couldn’t have quantified why.
    â€˜Mrs Janek’s jewellery is in a box in her handbag.’
    Helena handed the parcel of clothes to Alma, opened the handbag and removed a white box. She lifted the lid. It contained Magda’s tortoiseshell hairpins, plain, stainless-steel watch, and two pieces of jewellery: a distinctive embossed gold wedding band, and a gold locket.
    â€˜I’ve never seen Magda wear that,’ Ned commented when Helena lifted out the locket.
    Â â€˜She always wore it tucked beneath her collar.’ Helena touched a catch at the side. The locket flew open, revealing a grainy sepia image of a young man holding a baby. She held it out to show Ned and Alma.
    â€˜You with your father?’ Alma guessed.
    â€˜It was taken when I was a week old. My mother used to say that she was lucky the Nazis never discovered she was wearing it. If they had, they would have taken it from her.’ Helena looked at the picture for a moment before closing the locket and returning it to the box.
    â€˜Time to go home for lunch, sunshine.’ Ned wrapped his arm around Helena’s shoulders.
    Helena turned to the official. ‘The post-mortem …’
    â€˜You will be sent a copy of the report, Miss Janek. As soon as it has been typed.’
    â€˜Thank you.’ Helena looked at the