Chapter 45

45

‘What do we have here?' The gruff voice belonged to a large, bearded man in ragged clothes, his broad hands clasped around the rifle. ‘Who are you?' he said, frowning at Jana.

‘Who are you?' she retorted, edging herself in front of the children, her arms stretched wide protectively.

He laughed. ‘Perhaps a friend, if you're less cheeky. Are you thinking of staying out here all night?' He shrugged. ‘Come with me if you want a roof over your head tonight, or not. As you wish.'

He turned away.

‘Wait. Please,' said Jana. Dusk was turning to night as each second passed. They would soon be plunged into darkness. ‘We need help. One of the children has an injured ankle and we have nowhere to go.'

She had no idea if she could trust him, but right at that moment, she saw no alternative.

He walked back towards them. ‘Who's injured?'

Jana indicated Yveta, keeping a protective arm in front of her .

He grunted. ‘She's just a slip of a girl. I'll throw her over my shoulder.'

‘No.' Yveta recoiled. ‘I'll walk.'

He laughed again, a deep, throaty laugh.

‘Then follow me.'

They followed him through the trees, Yveta hobbling along, supported by Jana on one side and Maddie on the other. Michal hung on to Jana's coat sleeve. A short while later, they came to a small clearing. A soft glow lay ahead: an oil lamp in the window of a ramshackle building. Jana felt relief mixed with trepidation. She was taking a huge risk with this stranger but here was light and a roof, and the children were about to collapse with exhaustion. She took a deep breath as they all followed him through the front door and night closed in behind them.

A small woman with grey hair pulled up in an untidy bun looked at them with a startled expression. She stood at a stove in the sparsely furnished room, stirring a pot, the steam billowing around her lined face.

‘Who are they?' she said sharply, putting her free hand on her hip.

‘Fugitives, I'd say.' He threw Jana a glance. ‘Running from the Germans, no doubt?'

She gave a tiny nod of the head.

‘Well, they can't stay here,' the woman said.

‘Just for the night. They'll move on tomorrow.'

He waved his hand to a sagging settee. ‘You can rest there, all of you.'

Jana removed her rucksack and the four of them collapsed onto the worn, musty settee. Exhaling with relief to rest her aching muscles, she gathered the children close to her, where they remained huddled in their coats, teeth chattering .

The woman slammed two bowls and two spoons on the wooden table, then brought the pot over from the stove.

‘There's not enough for them,' she said, ladling thin liquid into the bowels. ‘There is barely enough for us.'

The man threw his coat over the back of one of the two chairs and sat down. The woman sat opposite and began to eat. The sight of them eating made Jana's stomach growl. The food that Babi had given them was all gone.

‘I'm hungry,' whispered Michal.

The man looked across at them with an impenetrable expression, putting his spoon down. He picked up the bowl and carried it over to Michal.

‘Drink,' he said.

Michal slurped at the soup and after a few greedy gulps, passed the bowl to Jana. She smiled at him and looked down at the broth; tiny cubes of carrot and potatoes floated in insipid liquid. It looked and smelt like heaven. She breathed it in and handed the bowl to Maddie. Jana didn't dare take even one sip, afraid she would drain the bowl completely once she got the taste in her mouth. Maddie drank and gave the bowl to her older sister, Yveta, who barely had the strength to drink, Jana thought, as she watched the girl with concern. ‘Finish it,' said Jana, when Yveta held out the remains to her, and after a moment of hesitation, the girl sipped the last drops.

A little while later, when Jana had warmed up, she removed her hat and coat and helped the children do the same. She then knelt down and gently removed Yveta's boot and sock to inspect her injury. The ankle was swollen and already turning black.

‘We need to bind that,' she said. She glanced over her shoulder. The man watched them dispassionately. Then with an irritated grunt, he pushed himself up from the table and rummaged around in the corner of the room where he produced a scrap of cloth and shoved it in Jana's hand. He returned to the table and poured himself a drink from an unmarked bottle. The woman said nothing as she continued to darn clothes, shooting Jana the occasional suspicious look.

Yveta winced and bit her lip as Jana bound her ankle.

‘It looks like you sprained it when you fell, but I don't think it's broken,' Jana said.

Even so, Jana didn't know how they could continue their journey tomorrow if Yveta couldn't walk. And furthermore, a journey to where? Too tired to think about it, she clambered back onto the settee and shifted around with the children, trying to get comfortable, using their coats to cover themselves.

‘Get some sleep,' she said as Michal and Maddie snuggled against her. Yveta propped herself up at the end of the settee.

Jana forced herself to keep awake, wary of the woman and man who sat in silence, he drinking and she sewing. Finally, they retired to their bedroom, leaving Jana and the children alone in the dark. She thought about slipping off her shoes, but her heels were rubbed raw and she was afraid she would never get them back on again. As she listened to the steady breathing of the children, her own eyelids fell and she drifted into a fitful sleep.

The creak of floorboards awoke her. Her heart jumped as her eyes snapped opened and she saw the man in rumpled clothes, bowed over her. She glanced with relief at the children still asleep by her side.

‘Time to wake up, Sleeping Beauty,' he said and moved to the sink where he filled a kettle.

Jana eased her stiff neck from side to side and shook the children awake whilst the man put the kettle on the stove to boil. He made each of them a cup of fake coffee which Jana thankfully accepted; she had a dreadful taste in her dry mouth.

‘Thank you for letting us spend the night here,' she said, sipping the bitter, brown liquid. ‘I'm not sure what to do next, to be honest. Perhaps I'll check if the Wehrmacht are still occupying the village.'

Legs astride, he stood in front of her, slurping from a chipped mug.

‘I have a better idea,' he said.

‘You do?' she asked, desperate to hear any suggestion.

‘I can tell you where some members of the resistance are hiding out. They'll give you shelter.'

Her heart leaped. ‘Are you with the resistance?'

‘I'm not with anyone but myself. But I'm no Nazi sympathiser, that's for sure.'

She stood up, shaking out her dress.

‘I'd be very grateful if you could tell me where to find these people.'

‘And I'd be grateful if you showed your appreciation. With payment,' a thin, hard voice said. The woman spoke as she entered the room, her dressing gown flapping, her grey, unbrushed hair loose around her shoulders. She looked old in the morning light.

‘I'm afraid I've only a few coins in my purse,' said Jana.

‘No payment, no information,' said the woman, exchanging a glance with the man, and stepping up close. Her eyes swept over Jana and settled on her wrist. ‘Your watch.'

It was an inexpensive piece from a second-hand shop and Jana was willing to hand it over to buy their safety. She unfastened the strap and caught the man's eye. Could she trust him?

‘You definitely know where the resistance are?' she asked .

‘I know everything that goes on in this forest.' His expression was surly.

‘Come on.' The woman folded her arms, tapping her fingers.

She handed the woman her watch.

‘And the coins in your purse.'

Jana retrieved her purse from her rucksack and shook out the last of her money in the woman's outstretched hand. She thought about how Brandt had taken her locket and was sure if she'd been wearing it now, the woman would have demanded it from her too.

‘What else do you have?' said the woman.

‘Nothing,' said Jana, trying to keep the dismay out of her voice.

‘Leave her be now,' sighed the man. ‘I want to get going.'

Everything sped up after that. The man broke off a piece of hard bread for each of them, which the children ate hungrily, but Jana put hers in the rucksack before filling up her flask with water at the sink. When it was obvious that Yveta couldn't walk, the man fetched a rusty wheelbarrow and lifted the surprised girl into it before pushing it off down the track. Jana and the children followed him into a damp, grey morning, the woman slamming the front door behind them.

The group walked in silence through the forest, the man ahead pushing Yveta in the wheelbarrow, its wheel squeaking loudly. It had rained in the night and cold droplets fell from the needles of the pine trees. The promise of spring from a few days ago had disappeared. Jana was chilled to her bones and her leg muscles ached from the walk of the previous day. Hollowed out from hunger and lightheaded, she thought she'd keel over when a sharp gust of wind blew. Maybe she should have eaten that bread, but she'd saved it, not knowing where the next meal would come from .

Eventually, the man halted, set down the wheelbarrow and pointed to the ground. ‘Follow this track. It leads to the home of a woodcutter. They call him The Bear. He'll help you.'

Jana's eyes followed the trail that weaved away between the trees.

‘Aren't you coming with us?'

‘I've work to do. It's not far: an hour or two. Keep to the track. You can keep the wheelbarrow.' He gave one of his now familiar grunts and headed off back the way they'd come before she could protest. She watched his receding back, hardly able to believe he'd led them into the middle of nowhere and then deserted them. Anger and frustration swelled inside her; she had given them her watch and the only money she had and he'd left them to their fate. She very much doubted there was a woodcutter's hut, let alone a man called The Bear. Perhaps the pair they had just spent the night with were collaborators with the Germans and for a reward were delivering her and the children into the hands of the Nazis; they would be greeted at the woodcutter's hut by cruel-faced men wearing long, leather coats.

Forcing back the despair that threatened to envelope her, she grasped the handles of the wheelbarrow and said, ‘Let's get going.'

Despite Yveta's light weight for a thirteen-year-old, it was hard work pushing the old wheelbarrow with its wobbly wheel down the rutted path, and Jana's shoulders and arms soon burned. Yveta clutched the metal sides, grimacing at every bump, her face etched with pain. Maddie and Michal trudged by Jana's side, their faces miserable. As time passed, Jana wondered if they were going in the right direction: if there even was a right direction.

‘Are we nearly there?' Michal whined .

‘Not far now,' said Jana, frowning as the trail seemed to peter out.

‘There is no woodcutter's house,' said Yveta, her voice full of bitterness.

‘Don't say that!' shouted Maddie.

‘It's true,' retorted Yveta. ‘We've been left in the woods to die. Like Hansel and Gretel.'

Maddie burst into tears and Michal shouted at Yveta, ‘Why are you always so mean?'

‘That's enough.' Jana's voice rose above them. She set down the wheelbarrow and took a deep breath. ‘Arguing will not help. I need you three to be brave and grown-up. We must support and encourage each other.' She turned to Yveta. ‘I know you're in pain, but nevertheless, you are the oldest and I expect you to behave like it.'

Jana's tone came out more severe than she'd intended but the girl's face registered the rebuke and she quietened. Michal took Maddie's hand as she fiercely wiped at her tears.

They continued their journey in silence.

The trail ended abruptly, but ahead, the trees opened up and an imprint of cart wheels appeared on the ground. And horse's hoofprints.

Jana whirled her head at the children. ‘There we have our woodcutter and his horse!'

With a surge of renewed energy, the small group ploughed on. Icy sleet began to fall, whipping their faces as they followed the tracks of the cart wheels. They seemed to go on forever and Jana was sure they'd been walking for far longer than an hour or two as the man had told her. Her wool coat grew wet and heavy and after a while, she saw that Yveta was sitting in a pool of water. Jana stopped, hauled the bedraggled girl from the wheelbarrow, tipped out the water and helped her back in again. Jana's knees threatened to buckle, but she gritted her teeth and pushed on. There was no other alternative.

She noticed the smoke first, billowing into the slate sky. A large cabin with a chimney emerged through the driving sleet. The cart tracks stopped outside a barn attached to the side of the cabin.

‘We're here,' she said with a huge sigh. But her relief was tinged with wariness when she thought of the frigid reception at last night's accommodation.

They stumbled to the door. Doubt crossed Jana's mind as she knocked, her mind blank at what to say. She didn't even know the name of the man who'd sent them here.

A middle-aged woman with a large bosom opened the door and stared at them. Where was the woodcutter? Was this the right house?

‘Does someone called The Bear live here?' asked Jana.

‘My goodness, look at the state of you poor lambs. Come in,' said the woman, then called over her shoulder. ‘Bear, you have visitors.'

Heavy footsteps approached behind the woman. She stepped to one side and Jana gasped at the burly man.

It was Egon.