Emma was outraged and revolted by this despicable display of needless cruelty and she leapt forward and ran down the street, her anger a raging force within her, and her face was grim and unremitting.
‘Get going or I’ll fetch a bobby!’ she yelled, shaking her fist again. She was totally without fear in her fury. ‘Little hooligans!’ she continued, her voice rising sharply. ‘Go on, get off with you, or I will fetch a policeman! The law will know how to deal with the likes of you, and it won’t be very kindly.’
The two boys laughed at her insolently and stuck out their tongues, making ugly grimaces and shouting foul words, but at least their attention was diverted from the man. Emma, who was dauntless at all times was now so completely enraged she was invincible. She picked up a rock and said threateningly, ‘How about a bit of your own medicine?’ She raised her arm and was about to hurl the rock when to her surprise, and considerable relief, the boys backed off, thumbing their noses at her as they slunk away, their vile curses echoing in the air. Emma ran across to the man, who was struggling to his knees. She took hold of his arm reassuringly and helped him up. He was a small, spry man, sturdily built and wiry. He had wavy black hair greying at the temples and receding on top, sharply defined features, and bright black eyes.
Compassion had eradicated her grim expression and Emma said with concern, ‘Are you hurt, sir?’
He shook his head, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped the blood from his grazed cheek. ‘No, I am not hurt,’ he answered, blinking. ‘Thank you, young lady. You have been very kind.’ He blinked again and peered hard at the ground. ‘Do you see my spectacles? They fell off in this unfortunate little skirmish.’
Emma found his glasses, examined them carefully, and handed them to him. ‘Well, at least they’re not broken,’ she informed him with an encouraging smile.
The man thanked her and put on his spectacles. ‘There, that is much better. Now I can see,’ he said.
Emma bent down and picked up his parcel, actually a large paper bag. A loaf of bread had fallen out of it and rolled in the dirt. Emma held it away from her and blew on it, and tried to clean it with her hands, dusting off the dirt. ‘It’s not too grimy,’ she explained, putting the loaf into the paper bag, which contained a number of other items, and giving it to him.
The man had retrieved a small black skullcap which he placed on his head and now he regarded Emma thoughtfully and with increasing interest. His voice was full of gratitude as he said, ‘Thank you once again, young lady. It was brave of you to come to my defence. To my rescue.’ He smiled and his eyes shone with appreciation. ‘Not many men would intervene in these parts, let alone a young lady like you. Yes, indeed, you are of the good heart and the great courage. Quite a remarkable feat you performed. Very commendable!’ He gazed at her with undisguised admiration, not a little impressed.
Even though the man spoke the most precise English and enunciated his words clearly, Emma detected a slight accent she could not place. He must certainly be from foreign parts, she decided, and then said, with a frown, ‘Why were those horrid boys throwing stones at you?’
‘Because I am a Jew.’
Emma was not actually sure what a Jew was but, always reluctant to display her ignorance on any matter, she chose to disregard his explanation, repeating again, ‘But why would that make them want to throw stones at you?’
The man returned her questioning look steadily. ‘Because people are always afraid of what they do not know, what they do not understand, the unfamiliar or the different, and that fear invariably turns to hate. Unreasoned hatred that makes no sense. In these parts the Jews are hated and defiled.’ He shook his head. ‘Ah, the human condition is strange, is it not? There are some people who hate for no reason at all. They just simply hate. They do not realize that their unjustified hatred inevitably turns inward to destroy them. Yes, it is self-destructive in the long run.’
His words, spoken so sadly and without rancour, pierced Emma’s brain and touched her so profoundly she felt a sharp stab of pain near her heart. Was her hatred for Edwin wrong? No, a small voice insisted. It is not unreasoned hatred, the kind this man speaks about. You have every reason to feel the way you do. Edwin Fairley was treacherous and he betrayed you. She cleared her throat and touched the man’s arm lightly. ‘I am sorry people hate you and try to hurt you. How terrible for you to have to live with such – such—’ She stopped, searching for the right word.
‘Persecution,’ the man volunteered. His dark eyes were clouded briefly by a haunting sorrow that was ancient, and then a faint and rueful smile touched his generous mouth. ‘Ah, but then this little flurry was nothing in comparison to some of the debacles that occur. When the roughs and toughs really run amok they become excessively violent. Unmerciful. Attacking us and our homes. We suffer not only sneers, but blows and broken windows and many cruelties.’ He shook his head wearily and then his face brightened. ‘But then, these are not your problems, young lady. I must not burden you with them.’
Emma was aghast and perturbed by the things he had said and she was also baffled by his oddly calm acceptance of such a terrible situation. ‘But can’t the bobbies – the police – do anything to stop it?’ she cried, her voice unaccustomedly harsh with anger.
The man smiled wryly. ‘Not really. Occasionally they try to stop it, but mostly they turn a blind eye. Leeds is not such a law-abiding city in this day and age. We fend for ourselves, as best we can. Keep to ourselves. Go about our business quietly. Avoid confrontations that could easily provoke dangerous incidents.’ He was becoming patently aware of the growing expression of horror in the girl’s eyes and also of the bewilderment etched on her face, and with sudden insight he said, ‘You do not know what a Jew is, young lady, do you?’
‘Not exactly,’ Emma began, and hesitated self-consciously, acutely ashamed of seeming so uninformed.
Observing her embarrassment, the man said softly, ‘Would you like to know?’
‘Yes, please. I like to know of many things.’
‘Then I shall tell you,’ he announced with a gentle smile. ‘The Jews are a people descended from the Hebrews and the Israelites, from the tribes of Israel. Our religion is called Judaism. It is founded on the Old Testament and the Torah both.’ Emma was listening intently and the man beheld the quickening interest on her face, the intelligence in her fine eyes. He was also fully conscious of her sympathetic attitude and so he continued patiently, ‘Do you know your Bible, young lady?’
‘Some of it,’ said Emma.
‘Then you have perhaps read the Book of Exodus. You certainly must know the Ten Commandments?’ She nodded affirmatively, and he expounded further: ‘The Ten Commandments were given to our people by Moses, when he led us out of Egypt and created the Jewish nation. Christianity itself is based on Judaism. Did you not know that?’
Although she loathed to appear illiterate, Emma had to say in all truthfulness, ‘No, I didn’t.’
The man’s bright black eyes searched hers thoughtfully. ‘Jesus Christ was a Jew and Jesus, too, was persecuted.’ He sighed and it was a long, wearisome sigh. ‘I suppose we Jews seem strange to some people, because our customs and dietary laws and form of worship are not the same as the Gentile ways.’ He smiled to