Chapter 41

41

Jana let herself into the bookshop and immediately, her chest eased. It had become her ritual to come here every evening after she finished work at the shoe factory. The shelves of books were a welcoming embrace. The shop was a place of solace where she sensed a quiet power from the books and the connection to her mother. This was her purpose: to keep the shop alive behind the locked door, to preserve it until the day the city would be free again and she could welcome back book lovers. The day when she would be allowed to stock all books without fear of punishment, the day people could choose what they wanted to read. This dream kept her going.

She moved through the shop and out into the backyard where she picked up a watering can. She had transformed the yard into a little oasis; an array of mismatched pots were arranged around the pebble stone yard. In between the pots were some old garden ornaments Babi had given her. Jana had laid out a seated area consisting of a circular table with sun umbrella, two folding chairs and upturned crates covered in bright cushions .

As she watered the red geraniums, Nela's words from a few days ago spun a loop in her head. Don't give up on the resistance. Things are happening.

She fetched glasses from the kitchen, placed them outside on the table and then filled a jug with tap water. How nice it would be to offer her friends homemade lemonade. Her mouth watered at the thought of bright-yellow lemons, something she hadn't seen for years. Standing by the sink, she drank a large glass of water to fill her stomach; she would not eat this evening, saving her meagre rations for Babi and the children. The food situation was dire and the gnaw of hunger was her constant companion.

Just before seven o'clock, Jana went back into the shop and waited for the women to arrive. She was pleased she had kept the book club going; the group met once a month not just to discuss books but anything that helped their daily lives, exchanging tips for mending shoes and clothes, stretching rations and giving each other emotional support.

Dasha arrived first, followed by Karolina. When everyone was gathered in the shop, Jana led them into the yard where they made themselves comfortable in the evening sunshine. Jana was reflective as she looked around the group. Dasha, despite the lack of nutrition, had bright eyes and pink cheeks. Jana pondered how she'd seen Dasha a couple of times recently talking to the same German soldier, but she quashed her uncharitable thought quickly; despite Dasha's comments about troubles in her marriage, Dasha wouldn't be unfaithful to her husband, and certainly not with a German. Opposite Jana sat Karolina, her appearance the polar opposite of Dasha. Karolina's husband, Petr, was still incarcerated in the prison block at Terezin. It pained Jana to see her suffering. There had been little news about him and Karolina's face was etched with worry, her skin translucent.

The group chatted as the sun slid golden behind the buildings, throwing the yard into shadow. The women drifted off until only Dasha remained sitting outside.

‘You saw the Red Cross article?' said Jana.

‘Sickening, isn't it? But you saw the truth behind the fa?ade.'

‘But that doesn't help anyone. I wish I could tell my version to the newspapers; get a message out somehow.'

Dasha gave her a sideways look. ‘I sometimes wonder if you and Lenka were involved somehow in resistance activities. If you still are.'

Jana was taken back at the direct question. For a moment. Jana imagined what a relief it would be to tell Dasha everything: from hiding Michal, to spying in Prague Castle and falling in love with a fascist policeman who wasn't a fascist at all. She could no longer talk to her best friend Lenka, and now Dasha was her closest friend. Still…

‘You mean when Lenka and I were students,' laughed Jana. ‘Sure, we wrote some slogans on walls and pulled down a few German flags. But that was a long time ago.' Jana rose and picked up the empty water jug from the table. ‘Back in a moment.'

She went to the kitchen and refilled the jug, giving herself time to gather her thoughts. When she returned to Dasha, she said, ‘How are things at home?' If Dasha noticed the deliberate change in conversation, she didn't show it. Again Jana thought about Dasha talking to that German soldier. Or had she been flirting? She had stopped herself from confiding in Dasha just in time.