Chapter 27

27

A shove in the back and Jana found herself in a small cell packed with women, some shouting through the open bars as the police guard locked up.

‘Why are we here?'

‘I've done nothing wrong!'

‘I'm thirsty.'

‘I need the toilet.'

It took her some moments to take in the scene: the dishevelled, hastily dressed women who'd had no time to brush their hair; pale, drawn faces; red, swollen eyes and each expression etched with fear. She was surrounded by about thirty women, some leaned against the wall, others sat on the cold, stone floor.

Jana pulled her coat tightly around her; she'd been allowed two minutes to get dressed and had grabbed the blouse and skirt draped over the back of her bedroom chair. There had been no time for stockings and her bare legs prickled with goosebumps.

Looking around her, she noticed a young girl that she recognised from the castle staff. There was a brief acknowledgement between them but then the girl looked away. Jana was considering approaching the girl when someone else caught her eye. She gasped. Huddled against the back wall, her long hair unpinned and wild around her narrow shoulders, was Miss Jezek. Jana's manager, usually immaculate and confident, hair swept back in a severe bun, a slash of red lipstick on her lips, was barely recognisable.

Jana edged her way past the other women to get to her.

‘Miss Jezek. What are you doing here?' It was a stupid thing to say – what were any of them doing there? – but somehow, it was more surprising to see her superior looking so vulnerable and locked up.

‘It's an outrage,' said Miss Jezek, pursing her lips. ‘Me, of all people: a loyal employee of the castle.'

Jana had always thought her a Nazi sympathiser which added to her surprise to see her there. But obviously, no one at the castle was above suspicion.

‘As if I would have anything to do with an attack on our Protektor .'

‘Have you heard any news on his condition?' asked Jana.

Miss Jezek shook her head.

‘I hope he's dead,' a voice hissed. Jana turned to see an elderly woman with several missing teeth. ‘He's responsible for the death of my nephew.'

Another voice piped up. ‘We're all in enough trouble as it is. God knows what will happen if he dies…'

The clank of steel silenced everyone for a brief moment. Two guards ushered three more women into the cell.

‘We soon won't have enough room here,' said one guard to the other.

‘They'll have to start sending them to Petschek Palace,' came the reply.

At this, women started shouting again. Jana shivered. Despite its name, Petschek Palace was not a welcoming destination. The four-storey, grey, stone building was the headquarters of the Gestapo. If Jana was sent there and interrogated about her work at the castle, her bookshop…

Her legs giving way, she slid down against the back wall onto the floor. She caught Miss Jezek watching her.

The women in the cell had grown tired, and the noise of chatter had been replaced by the sounds of people: a shuffle, a sigh, a cough. Jana thought of Papa and his face, frozen in horror as she was arrested; he must be frantic with worry. She wondered where Andrej was. She'd looked for him when she'd been herded inside the police station but there had been no sign of him. Maybe he wasn't in the building but out with the force rounding up suspects. How did it feel to play the fascist and arrest his fellow Czechs when he was really on their side? How difficult it must be to try to help without arousing suspicion. And how frustrating to witness the fate of those he was unable to help.

Her thoughts spun further. What if Andrej himself was under suspicion? Being interrogated? She let out a cry. But no one looked at her; each woman was battling her own nightmare. Overwhelmed with exhaustion, she slumped forward, laying her throbbing head on her drawn-up knees.

Hours dragged by until heavy footsteps outside the cell made everyone look up, nervous with anticipation. This time, there were three armed policemen.

The tall, lean one stepped forward, clipboard in hand, and raised his voice.

‘Step forward if you hear your name.'

As each name was called, a woman stumbled up to the bars. Jana's chest tightened. Were these the ones to be sent to Petschek Place? To be handed over to the dreaded Gestapo ?

The sound of her name when it came was almost no surprise. Her life had taken on some dangerous journey of which she had no control and all she could do was watch herself teeter on the edge of catastrophe. Her name was repeated, louder this time. She staggered forwards.

Eight of them were led from the cell and escorted from the basement to the ground floor. The woman in front of Jana lurched sideways, and as Jana held up a steadying hand, a gruff voice said, ‘No touching.'

Jana looked up to find a pistol pointing at her.

They gathered in a small group and waited for further instructions. Looking through the front doors, Jana saw black cars lined up, waiting to take them away to interrogation. Her mouth was too dry to swallow. She glanced wildly around for Andrej.

He wasn't there.

Names were called again. Five women were shunted outside to the waiting cars.

Every muscle in her body was taut, her chest so tight, she could hardly breathe. Her fingers jittered around her locket. She and the remaining two women glanced at each other's frightened faces. A voice bellowed her name. Her head jerked up and a policeman beckoned her to a closed office door. He knocked and opened it, announcing her, and signalled she should enter. Her legs shaking, she went into the room.

At a desk laden with files and documents sat a police officer.

It was Andrej.