Chapter 35

35

Only Dasha and Karolina had turned up for the book club that cold November morning. Jana was actually relieved as they were her closest friends and she had important news to share.

‘I'm afraid I will be closing the bookshop in the new year,' she said and exhaled, her chest sinking.

‘Oh, no,' gasped Dasha.

‘Why?' Karolina asked with a shocked expression.

‘It's not earning any money, and in addition, I lost my income when all the staff were fired from Prague Castle. The Germans need full-time factory workers.' She grimaced. ‘I'll apply at the employment agency.'

‘But your mother's shop!' Dasha looked around at the bookshelves.

‘That's the good news. The landlord said he'll let me keep the shop, even if it's closed. Apparently, finding new tenants is impossible at the moment, and being a literature fan himself, he'll let me keep the premises. He's not a fan of the Nazi regime, it seems and is ever hopeful the war will end soon.'

Although the three girls were alone in the bookshop, Jana still lowered her voice. ‘The Nazis aren't doing too well in Russia, he told me.'

‘That's not what we hear on the radio,' said Karolina.

‘German radio,' Jana pointed out. ‘I think my landlord has inside information.'

‘If only it were true, and the war ended. My Petr would be free.'

Jana and Dasha looked at her with sympathy in their eyes.

‘There's been another round up of resistance fighters, I read this morning.' Dasha shook her head.

‘I'm surprised there are any left after the purge following the assassination,' said Jana. Since her dismissal from Prague Castle in June, not a single contact of the resistance had entered her shop; something that suited her, as she'd vowed to have nothing more to do with the resistance since the tragedy of Lidice. But she did hope the contacts she'd met were safe.

‘I suppose that's the end of our book club too,' said Karolina, sadly.

‘Not necessarily.' Jana gave a bright smile. ‘Our gatherings are too important to lose. Let's arrange to meet here at the shop in the evenings or weekends even when it's closed. The landlord said I can leave everything here as it is, only the closed sign will be up.'

Karolina's expression lifted. ‘That would be wonderful. We'll need to find a time that suits everyone as most of us are working or have children to look after.'

‘It might be tricky, but leave it to me. I'll sort out a time that suits all of us. More than ever, we must stick together.' Jana spoke with all her heart. She as much as anyone needed her support group. Her life was so uncertain now; closing the bookshop and Andrej gone from her life were shattering blows and she relied on the steady support of her friends from the book club.

A few weeks later, she was making plans for how to make their Christmas book club meeting special. As she hung some paper stars in the window, she wished she could provide her friends with Christmas biscuits or sugared almonds, real coffee or hot chocolate topped with whipped cream. Her hollow stomach groaned at the idea and she shifted her thoughts onto other possibilities to promote some festive cheer. She would design some book-themed games and quizzes, but would focus on stories with happy or hopeful endings. Everyone's spirits had been so low the last months, the occupation taking its toll, and Andrej's absence had carved a chasm in her life. But at Christmas, she would pull herself together for the sake of Papa, Babi and the children. And she would make the last book club of the year as joyful as possible.

As she scrambled around the window display, positioning hand-carved, wooden angels, a memory popped up: Andrej peering at her through the shop window as she'd crawled around on her hands and knees positioning books. How annoyed she'd been with him then, thinking he was spying on her, that he was a danger. She glanced up, visualising he was there now, her heart wistful. But it was another man's face that glanced in and then made for the shop door. A familiar face.

She retreated from the window and turned to greet the man. He wore a flat wool cap and a brown coat, and even though he wasn't in his uniform, she recognised him: the tram driver who, on several occasions, had delivered messages from the resistance. This was the first time that any contact had entered her shop since the assassination of Heydrich. Her mouth went dry. What did he want? That part of her life was over now.

‘Can we talk?' he asked, looking around the empty shop.

She nodded and led him to the cash desk where she stood watching the front door.

‘How are you, Miss Hajek?' His soft voice belied his burly appearance. The sleeves of his coat were taut around the muscles of his upper arms and his hands were large and strong. He looked to be in his forties, and very fit considering he sat in a tram all day.

‘Who are you, exactly? I doubt you're a tram driver.'

He laughed, his eyes bright. He raised his hands in mock surrender.

‘I'm Egon, and you're right, I'm not a tram driver. I have another function now.'

‘Why are you here? As you know, I'm no longer at Prague Castle and have no information that may be of interest.' Her tone was terser than she'd intended but his sudden appearance had unnerved her.

‘I was wondering if you'd be willing to help our activities once more. Heydrich may be gone but there is so much still to do.'

Swallowing hard, she said, ‘I'm still struggling with the repercussions of my last actions. Nothing can justify that loss of life.' She shook her head, pursing her lips. ‘I'm finished with all of that.'

He sighed, his expression turning grave. ‘Such a tragic loss of life, and I believe not one that was anticipated by anyone. Not to that extent… But it puts us in a terrible dilemma. Do we lie down and die, or stand up and die?'

‘At least we're not dead if we do nothing.' She didn't want to have this conversation; it was making her flustered, uncertain. ‘I'm sorry, but I can't be of any use to you.'

They fell silent. He held her gaze, his amber eyes intense, as if appraising her.

She shifted and looked away.

‘Very well,' he said, disappointment in his voice. ‘But we need clever, brave women like you. If you change your mind, I'm at the Masna coffee shop on the first Monday of every month around seven in the morning. In any case, I wish you a peaceful Christmas and all the best for the New Year.'

He left leaving Jana's thoughts in turmoil; the thrill of slipping coded messages into bookmarks fought against the terror of Heydrich catching her looking at his bookcase, the tremor of delight as Andrej whispered to her on the Charles Bridge in contrast to the despair of being thrown into a police cell. She had been balanced on a spinning top, rotating too fast for her to spring from, but now she had her feet back on solid ground, steady and safe.

Sitting at the counter, she lay out the bookmarks she was making for Christmas. As she cut out tiny, silver, paper stars to stick on the fabric, she realised she'd missed an important opportunity; She should have asked Egon if he'd heard anything about Andrej Kovar. Afterall, Egon and Andrej had both been involved in resistance activities and possibly knew each other.

At lunch time, she walked along the freshly fallen snow to the telephone box and after finding the Masna coffee shop in the directory, she made a mental note of the address. She returned to the bookshop, a quiver in the pit of her stomach.