Chapter 22

22

Sweat had pooled under her armpits by the time she stumbled into the bookshop. It had been a mistake to try and meet Andrej; he was right about the risks. If he had been there at the nightclub, the Wehrmacht would have caught them: a police captain in a clandestine meeting. Questions would have been asked. If she were merely a girlfriend, then why the secrecy? It would be easier if she and Andrej were a pair; after all, a policeman was entitled to a private life. But of course, Andrej was protecting her; in the terrible event of him being uncovered as a spy, people connected to him would be interrogated by the Gestapo. And she was putting him in jeopardy by summoning him to meet her.

Gathering the pile of bookmarks she'd removed, she knelt in the window and spread them back out in full view. She would deal with her assignments alone and not drag Andrej into her activities. It was clear to her now. She had her role and he had his.

But as she trudged up the stairs to the apartment, frustration gnawed at her. The resistance seemed so fragmented, different groups with their own agendas, one group not knowing what the other one was doing. And it had taken three days to respond to her signal of bookmarks in the window.

As she put her key in the lock, a smell of cooking greeted her and she smiled. Dear Papa. He had started preparing their meal without her.

Four days after the arrest of her husband, Karolina came into the bookshop. Jana threw her arms around her.

‘What news have you?' she asked.

‘It seems Petr was lucky enough to escape the Gestapo.'

Andrej had managed to help, thought Jana. Thank goodness.

‘So that's something to be grateful, for.' Karolina sighed heavily. She peered at Jana. ‘Did you have something to do with that?'

‘Me? Why would you think that?' said Jana, startled.

Her friend shrugged. ‘Just a feeling. The way you spoke about sorting something out.'

Jana shook her head vehemently and diverted the conversation. ‘Where is Petr now?'

‘He's still at the police station, but will be transported to Terezin later today.' Her last words choked on a sob and her head fell into her hands. ‘He'll be in prison for years. I don't know if he'll ever come out.'

‘Yes, he will. The Germans won't be here forever. The allies will come and we'll fight back.'

‘What allies? We've been abandoned, and that's the truth,' Karolina said, her voice wrought with bitterness .

Jana had no answer, so she sat quietly with her friend, her own tears slipping down her cheeks.

‘We have permission!' Dasha panted, her cheeks pink with excitement as she skipped into the bookshop.

Jana looked down from the ladder where she stood rearranging her father's marionettes. ‘For what?' she said, stepping down and smiling at Dasha's own huge grin.

‘Permission for the Red Cross to visit Terezin. Authorised by Heydrich himself.'

‘My goodness, that's fantastic.' Jana was flabbergasted.

‘We don't have a date yet, but I'll start sorting clothes to donate.' Dasha bobbed around like a school girl; she looked too young to be married with a child.

‘I'll start collecting books, approved ones of course. Do you think that I'd be allowed to accompany the visit?' said Jana, bubbling with excitement.

‘I don't know,' said Dasha, doubtfully. ‘You know the Germans are sticklers for regulations. Probably only Red Cross members are allowed.'

‘Then I'll join up.'

Dasha laughed. ‘Speak to Miss Novak. She seems to like you.'

Jana liked the Red Cross supervisor too; she had a gentle persuasiveness about her and kind eyes. She prayed that somehow, Miss Novak could persuade the authorities that she needed Jana for the visit.

Over the next days, Jana started to collect books. Her first obvious port of call was to ask the book club ladies for donations. Then at lunch time and in the evenings, she went house to house, a large basket over her arm. One sour-faced woman announced she certainly would not donate a thing to criminals and Jews and slammed the door in Jana's face. But mostly people were happy to give what they could, even if it was one shabby, well-loved children's book.

Meanwhile, she carried out her new assignment at the castle, watching Heydrich's arrival each day. Mostly his chauffer, a huge boar of a man, drove; occasionally, Heydrich drove himself and sometimes, he was accompanied by an armed security car. And unless it was raining heavily, Heydrich travelled with the roof of his convertible down. Jana noted every detail.

She had little contact with Heydrich until, one morning, he marched in her direction as she was carrying towels to the cloakroom at the end of the corridor. There was no way to avoid eye contact so she greeted him politely, hoping he would pass her by.

He stopped close to her, his long frame looming over. ‘ Fr?ulein Hajek. Have you heard that I've authorised a Red Cross visit to Terezin?'

There was a look of cold amusement in his eyes.

The only words that came to her were, ‘Yes, thank you, Herr Protektor .'

A strange smile touched his thin lips. ‘Why thank you?' He feigned puzzlement.

He was playing with her but she didn't know the rules of the game. She paused as she scrabbled her thoughts together.

He stared at her, no doubt enjoying her discomfort, then before she could speak, he waved his hand. ‘Leave what you're doing and finish sorting my bookshelves.'

After she'd rushed to deposit the towels, she went straight to his office and stifled a groan. Brandt stood erect, legs apart directly next to the open door. He glowered at her as she passed. Heydrich was not in there, his desk clear. As she moved to the bookshelves, she wondered if Heydrich had told Brandt to stand guard. Had Heydrich suspected her of snooping? Of course not. If he had, she would be lying in the basement of the Gestapo, her body smashed and broken, or crumpled against an execution wall, riddled with bullets.