See you soon Caroline! Chapter 3 John Bond

Chapter Three:

John Bond

John Bond was a rather shy young man, an only child and rather slow to make friends. He tended to keep himself to himself, although he envied the other boys’ ability to relate to one another, and more particularly, to the girls. He was aware that he was none too popular, being thought a bit of a nerd. He was attracted to Caroline, but did nothing about it for the simple reason that he didn’t know how to!

Now, although Caroline Weaver had not told many classmates about her grandfather and the mystery of his birth and adoption, the story had somehow got around, and John was intrigued by what he had heard. He had already researched his own father’s family using the genealogical websites that his parents subscribed to, and he was pretty sure that he could solve Caroline’s problem. So, plucking up courage, he waited until she had finished her dinner and then asked her how she was getting on with her project.  She seemed a little surprised to be approached by someone she had rarely spoken to before, but she told him about the word which Mr Shaw believed might lead her to the truth about her grandfather’s birth parents.  She said that she was hesitating to take it any further, as she knew that her grandfather wasn’t too keen on the idea, and that she didn’t know what unpleasant things might be revealed. On the other hand, Mr Shaw seemed pretty excited about her mysterious message, and was encouraging her to pursue it. Her brother Simon was keen too, but she’d told him that neither of them should do anything until she’d had another word with her grandfather. She asked John what he thought she should do.

“I can see your problem” he said. “You don’t want to upset your grandfather, especially as he has kept his secret all this time. But on the other hand, you do have a right to know all you can about your family. It’s possible that some time in the future you may be asked to give details about your family’s medical history.”

“I hadn’t thought of it like that” replied Caroline. “You’ve got a point there! I suppose there’s no harm in trying to find out what this word means – the word that seemed to interest Mr Shaw so much.  But where do I start? Simon’s away for a few days on that orienteering course with the PE people.”

“Let’s Google it!” said John. You can bet there’ll be something worth finding. And then you’ll have something to take to your grandfather. If he doesn’t like what you’ve found, you can stop there.”

“OK! The IT room after school then?”

John picked up his books. “See you there!”

Later that day, the two of them were sitting at a computer in the IT room. It was a lovely afternoon – too good to be at a computer thought Caroline. She wasn’t sure that this was going to be a profitable use of her time, and hoped it wouldn’t take too long.

“How do you spell this word?” asked John.

Caroline fished out the notebook in which she had written the letters as Simon had read them to her. She had also written the word that Mr Shaw had thought so important, so she called out the letters, and her companion typed them on the keyboard. Watching over his shoulder, she saw the page load.

“Wow! Nearly three million results! That’ll take some reading!”

John laughed. “You always get that sort of reply. Most of them will be rubbish of some sort. But look, the first one says ‘ten hotels in Rivesaltes’. So it’s a place somewhere. Your grandfather’s birthplace perhaps?”

“Where is it? It doesn’t sound English”

“All the hotels mention ‘Perpignan’ as being nearby. Ever heard of that?”

“Perpignan?  I’m afraid geography’s not my strong point” answered Caroline. “I’ve heard of it though.”

“Here it is” read John. “ ‘Rivesaltes wine.  An area in southern France’.  So he’s French!”

“I don’t think so! He came with us last year to Calais for the day, and he didn’t understand a word of French then. As far as I know, he was born in England.”

“But you don’t know, do you? He doesn’t know either! He could be French, he could be anything! This is the only clue you’ve got – Rivesaltes, a town in southern France.”

“What about the other three million or so web-sites” asked Caroline mischievously.

John gave her a look to see if she was serious and then turned back to the computer screen. “Well, it seems that you can fly there. Rivesaltes has an airport which is served by Ryanair apparently!”

“Anything else? Useful I mean?”

“What about ‘Rivesaltes Internment camp’? Was your grandfather a criminal?

“Don’t be daft John! We’re talking about a baby, a child under three anyway!  How could he be a criminal?”

But John didn’t answer – he was reading more of the article.  Caroline leaned over his shoulder to see what he was looking at. She read aloud “Its darkest period was in 1942, when 2,251 Jews, including 110 children, were transferred from Rivesaltes via the Drancy internment camp to Auschwitz, where they were murdered.”

There was a moment’s silence. Then Caroline said in a small voice “That couldn’t be anything to do with Grandad surely? I’m not sure that he was even born then. He’s seventy one this year. It’s 2013 now, so seventy years ago would be….” She thought for a moment. “He was born in 1942 then, the very year they’re talking about, the year that one hundred and ten children were sent to Auschwitz from this camp. But he wasn’t one of them, he’s still alive!”

John was still staring at the screen. At last he turned to her and said “Do you know what this means Caroline? It means that your grandfather is a Holocaust survivor!”