Free Magda's Daughter by Catrin Collier Page B

official and the nurse. ‘You have both been very kind.’
    â€˜Our condolences, Miss Janek.’ The nurse opened the door for them.
    Ned was beginning to feel that society’s way of coping with bereavement and the bereaved was by resorting to well-worn platitudes.
    But as he walked Alma and Helena to his car, and saw the droop of Helena’s shoulders and the heart-rending expression of bewilderment on her face, he could think of nothing more original than, ‘I am so sorry, sunshine.’
    The post-mortem report was delivered to the flat two days before the funeral. Ned was sitting with Alma and Helena, who were discussing the final arrangements with Father O’Brien. He went downstairs, picked up the post, and waited for the priest to leave before giving the envelope to Helena. She saw the address on the outside and handed it back to him.
    â€˜Please read it for me.’
    â€˜If you want me to.’ He opened the envelope with his thumb. Alma stood to leave.
    â€˜Don’t go, Auntie Alma,’ Helena pleaded. Alma sat down again.
    Ned scanned the report as quickly as he could. ‘The cause of death was, as my father suspected, a massive cerebral haemorrhage.’ He frowned. ‘What is surprising is the number of healed fractures the pathologist found on Magda’s body. Three on her skull, one on her arm, and two on her legs.’
    â€˜I can’t recall Magda ever breaking a bone,’ Alma said.
    â€˜The pathologist has stated that they were all old fractures.’ Ned looked at Helena. ‘Could they be a result of war wounds?’
    â€˜I have no idea.’ Helena frowned.
    â€˜Magda didn’t like talking about the war,’ Alma reminded them. ‘But she did say that she was forced to work for the Nazis. They were notorious for beating their prisoners of war and slave labourers.’
    â€˜They were.’ But the thought of Magda’s injuries troubled Ned when he considered Helena’s resolve to travel to Poland. What if they weren’t the result of wartime beatings? His father was right. Helena knew nothing about her mother’s family other than the few snippets Magda had read to her from the occasional letters, which must have been destroyed because neither Alma nor Helena had found any trace of them in the flat. In fact, there was nothing in the flat to connect Magda with Poland except a few photographs, the handwritten Polish recipes in her cookery book, and the selection of dried herbs and spices in the food cupboard.
    He recalled conversations with Magda in which she’d told him that if she ever dared to return to Poland, even as a naturalized Briton and the holder of a British passport, she would be severely punished for ‘defecting’ to the West after the war. She had certainly lived in constant fear of the Communist regime tracking her and Helena down, and taking reprisals against the family she had left behind. But he still thought it extreme of Magda to destroy every scrap of evidence that linked her to her Polish family.
    Had Magda’s memories of her life in Poland been so painful she hadn’t been able to bring herself to talk about them, even to Helena? Or had there been other, more sinister reasons that had driven Magda to keep the knowledge of her family to herself? Were they vicious criminals? Were they in prison? Was that why none of them had yet replied to the letter Helena had sent to the village enquiring about her grandmother’s, uncle’s and aunt’s whereabouts? Should he take his father’s advice and do more to dissuade Helena from making the trip?
    But even if he did, would Helena take any notice?

Chapter Four
    Ned had been christened and confirmed into the Anglican Church – to be precise, St John’s on the Graig – but he, like many teenagers busy with their social life and, to a lesser extent, studies, gradually stopped attending services. On the rare