Chapter 2

2

The Wehrmacht soldier studied Jana's papers, including the official letter inviting her to an interview at Prague Castle, and satisfied, let her pass through the imposing Matthias Gate, flanked on each side by monumental statues: fierce, titanic warriors slaying their prey.

Snowflakes fell from a bleak sky as she entered the first courtyard surrounded by various buildings constructed in differing architectural styles: baroque, Gothic and Renaissance. Prague Castle was not one building but a vast complex of palaces, churches and monuments that had grown over one thousand years, hosting emperors, kings and presidents. And now the Nazi occupiers.

Jana's best friend from school, Lenka, had recommended her to take over her job at the Castle now that Lenka was pregnant. The thought that her friend was to become a mother gave a Jana a warm glow in her chest, despite the freezing wind that whipped around the courtyard. She made her way past the Saint Vitus Cathedral, the Gothic edifice that dominated the castle grounds, and found the nearby building indicated on her letter .

The interview with Miss Jezek, a petite woman with deep furrows between her eyebrows, was brief. Jana's background and references had already been thoroughly checked. After twenty minutes, Jana left the castle with a new position on the early-morning cleaning team; she was grateful at the chance to earn more money. The bookshop was her passion, but since the German occupation, business had depleted, and they were struggling to pay the rent. She could work the two hours before she opened the shop. Of course, she could have applied for a cleaning job somewhere other than at the Nazi HQ, but that was the point of it all.

Thin, icy snowflakes fell on her cheeks as she wound down the steep Nerudova Street that ran from Prague Castle to the Charles Bridge below, once the royal way where the coronation parades had passed. She glanced at the elegant, baroque houses with their intricate house signs that told a story of the families who had lived there; her favourite was the placard decorated with three violins representing generations of musicians. Shops too clung to the hillside, and she sighed as she noticed a second-hand bookshop had closed. It was no wonder; the list of banned books grew daily.

As she approached her own bookshop, she saw a bundled-up figure peering through the shop window. Lenka.

‘What are you doing out here in the freezing cold?' called Jana as she neared.

‘I wanted to know how you got on at the castle. No one is answering the door of your apartment,' Lenka said through chattering teeth.

Jana thought of Michal hiding up in the attic amongst the puppets. Her father would be ignoring callers.

‘Let's get you inside and warmed up,' Jana said, retrieving the keys from her handbag and opening the shop door .

Once inside, Jana settled Lenka in the armchair where she had sat yesterday with Michal and went out to the small kitchen to make Lenka a hot cup of chicory coffee; there had been no real coffee for years. When she returned, Lenka was leaning back against the chair, her coat unbuttoned and her hands resting on her swollen stomach; she looked so vulnerable, Jana thought, as she pulled up a stool.

‘I'm pleased you're stopping work next month,' Jana said. ‘And the good news is I'm taking over.' She grinned; excitement tinged with fear sparking inside her at the opportunities ahead.

Lenka sat up and clapped her hands. ‘I knew our plan would work and you'd get the job.'

‘You must think of yourself and your baby now,' Jana said. ‘Let me take over. And don't you worry; I'll keep an eye on Reinhard Heydrich, " Reichsprotektor of Bohemia and Moravia".' Her voice was tinged with derision when she said his title.

Lenka's eyes clouded. ‘I miss the time when we were Czechoslovakia.'

‘Me too.' Jana's voice tightened. ‘And when we weren't under the tyranny of a man who's nicknamed "The Butcher of Prague".'

‘You must be extremely cautious,' Lenka said, taking Jana's hand. ‘Heydrich is a cruel, dangerous man, determined to stamp out any resistance to the occupation.'

Jana nodded. They were silent for a moment, then waving her hand around the shop, she said, ‘What do you see?'

‘Books?' Lenka leaned her head to one side.

‘Only remnants of what my mother stocked on these shelves. Most of the international literature you and I studied at university has been banned and handed over to the Nazis.' Jana's voice caught. ‘And now I'm forced to sell German authors that tell of the glory and honour of fighting for the Vaterland . '

She cringed as she looked towards the windowfront where she had been ordered to hang a swastika.

‘Mama would be devastated if she knew what was happening to her beloved bookshop. To books. To words.' Jana fought back her wistfulness and squared her shoulders. ‘You've been so brave, Lenka, but now it's my turn to fight back. I've been so wrapped up in my grief over Mama, I've become a passive bystander. Taking over from you will give me a new purpose: one Mama would approve of. Tell me what I need to know.'

After Lenka had left, Jana took some time to gather her thoughts before going upstairs to see Michal and her father. She moved around the bookshop, touching and straightening things: the depleted selection of second-hand books, the display of writing paper fanned out on a table, and the bookmarks lying next to the cash register. She'd crafted the bookmarks herself out of cardboard and remnants of fabric left from the puppet clothes. Sadness washed over her as she recalled her six-year-old self, sitting at the kitchen table making bookmarks with her mother as Christmas presents. Had her relationship with her mother been so close because she was an only child?

Still reminiscing, she moved to the front of the shop. Her jaw clenched as her eyes swept over the German books lining the shelves and decorating the front window.

‘Oh, Mama,' she whispered to herself. ‘It's better you're not here to witness this all. You put so much of yourself into your choice of books to sell. You'd be horrified…'

She shook her head to halt the downward spiral of her thoughts. It was better to be angry, and channel that anger to good use. She put a back soon sign on the door and went outside, glancing up at the sign above; at least they'd been allowed to keep the family name of the shop: Hajek. She locked the front door before letting herself into the apartment entrance a few steps away.

Michal was gazing in awe as her father expertly worked the strings of the marionette. The puppet was Hurvinek, the playful young boy with a shock of red hair. Her father recited lines from a recent comedy he'd performed at the children's theatre, speaking in a high-pitched voice. Michal almost smiled, but Jana's entrance broke the spell and his eyes turned dull as he returned to reality.

‘I got the job, Papa,' she said, kissing her father's cheek.

He didn't know there was another reason she'd applied other than the need for extra income. She ruffled Michal's hair.

‘Has my father been behaving himself?' She smiled.

Michal gave an earnest nod.

‘And the puppets?'

Another nod.

‘They can be an unruly bunch.' She pointed to a wooden chest in the corner. ‘In the box over there are some half-finished ones I attempted as a child. They are quite bad, I'm afraid. Shall we sort through and choose which are the best and which are the worst?'

Papa chuckled, a warm sound full of memories. Then his expression saddened and Jana knew he was thinking of her mother.

‘Go and have a peep,' she said, encouraging Michal. ‘I'll be right there. '

He trotted over to the chest and kneeling, started to pull out the old puppets.

Jana lowered her voice. ‘What are we going to do, Papa? You mentioned a plan.'

He smoothed his salt and pepper moustache with his fingers. His voice was gravelly when he spoke.

‘Leave the shop closed and stay up here while I see a friend about a car. We'll drive Michal to your grandma. It's Friday and there will be more traffic, so hopefully the patrols won't check every vehicle.'

‘We need a diversion,' Jana said, adrenaline kicking in. ‘And I know just the friends who can help.'