Chapter 51

51

In the restaurant's kitchen, Jana rifled through the drawers, considering the array of implements, and chose a small knife with a fine, sharp blade. She slipped it into her pocket.

‘What are you doing?' asked Nela from the doorway.

‘I'm going to Masaryk station. There is fighting there and they will need help with the wounded.'

‘Count me in,' said Nela, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. Her blouse was covered with the blood of the men she had tended.

‘What about the injured? Can we leave them alone here?'

‘They're settled now and none of them are seriously hurt. I've left them water to drink.'

‘Then let's go.'

The two of them hurried up the cellar steps and out into the mayhem of the Prague streets. The air hung heavy with smoke; the bombs had left buildings burning and pieces of ash spun in the breeze, mingling with pink blossom. The sound of gunfire echoed around them as Jana and Nela approached a barricade defending the station. A group of resistance fighters were crouched down, and one lay wounded on the ground. One of the men, in a cloth cap and an oversized tweed jacket, turned, his eyes widening at the sight of the two girls.

‘Pavel,' gasped Jana.

His expression, at first startled, turned to irritation. ‘You shouldn't be here; it's far too dangerous.'

‘We're here to tend the wounded,' said Jana. She glanced at Nela, who had knelt down at the injured man's side.

Pavel cracked open his rifle and slid in a round of bullets. ‘I'm surprised to see you.'

Anger flared up in her.

‘You informed on me, didn't you? That's why you're surprised to see me. How could you do that not just to me, but my grandmother?'

Pavel looked up from his rifle, narrowing his eyes. ‘I have no idea what you're talking about.'

‘Really?' she shot back. She didn't believe him for a moment. ‘You're the only one I told where Michal was.'

‘I don't have time for this,' he said and snapped shut his rifle.

‘Neither do I,' she said, and then turned to Nela where she was attending the injured man. ‘I'm heading into the station.'

Crouching down, she edged along the barricade, heading towards a side entrance to the station. Gunshots cracked above her. The ground shuddered from falling grenades. An explosion from behind hurled her from her feet and she fell onto the cobbled stones. Scrambling up, her ears whistling, she looked back the way she'd come. A plume of black smoke swirled from the spot she'd stood just moments before with Pavel and Nela. The barricade had collapsed into a burning crater.

And her friends…? She choked back a scream and stumbled tw o steps towards the carnage, praying for survivors. But another grenade exploded and she was forced to dive through the station entrance.

Resistance fighters were holding off a German attempt to take the station. She saw Andrej and Egon, their rifles aimed, popping bullets through an open window. A young man lay on the stone floor, doused in blood. She moved to him and pressed her hands over the wound in an attempt to staunch the flow. The grenade explosion had left pain throbbing in her ears and the noise of the fighting was muffled as if she was underwater. She threw a glance at Andrej and caught his eye as he reloaded his gun, registering his surprise at seeing her. Bullets pinged off the stone walls and Andrej returned fire.

Above the noise, a shout went up.

‘They're in the building! The Germans are here.'

‘Run!' Andrej screamed at her. She looked down at the lifeless young man beneath her hands; there was nothing more she could do.

The fighters retreated towards the platform and she jolted after them. From nowhere, an arm grabbed her, encircling her neck, squeezing, squeezing. She grappled for breath and her nostrils filled with a familiar, sickly-sweet smell.

Liquorice.

Brandt rasped in her ear. ‘Come with me, bookshop girl.' He dragged her backwards, increasing the pressure on her throat.

As her lungs grappled for air, she saw Andrej striding towards them, his rifle aimed at Brandt. Through her deadened ears, she heard the dim sound of a commotion outside the station, vibrations under her feet. The sound of tanks.

A flash of Wehrmacht uniforms flashed in her peripheral vision. Brandt held her in front of him, a human shield. Cold metal pressed against her temple. He laughed. ‘Ah, it's our long-lost police captain. One move and I'll shoot her.' He pressed the pistol hard against the side of her head.

Andrej did not lower his rifle, but frowned, his expression uncertain. A German soldier ran between them, heading to attack the resistance fighters trapped on the platform. Andrej swung to shoot him but Brandt screamed, ‘No! She's dead.'

Andrej lowered his rifle an inch, his face desperate. More Germans crossed to the platform, unhindered. Each moment that Brandt held her hostage, another resistance fighter's life was endangered. She had to do something, get free of his grasp. Brandt squeezed on her windpipe and her sight blurred and darkened. She had the sensation of falling. Edging her hand into her pocket and gathering her last ounce of strength, she withdrew the kitchen knife and swung it into Brandt's arm holding the pistol. His arm jerked and the pistol shot exploded past her face. She struck again and as he roared in pain, releasing his hold on her, she sprung away from him. In the same moment, Andrej aimed at Brandt and fired. She flew towards Andrej, her hand reaching for him.

Soldiers were pouring through the station entrance, but their uniforms were different.

Gunshots ricocheted around her. As she reached Andrej, he spun and staggered. She screamed as she watched him fall. No! A heartbeat later, her body convulsed from the force of a blow. Then another. Her limbs jerked.

Searing pain. Plummeting. Darkness rolling in.

Then nothing.

The voices came first: distant, muffled. Shadows played across Jana's eyelids. She forced them to lift. A half-open window. Curtains framing a blue and white sky.

‘Miss Hajek. Can you hear me?' It was a woman's voice.

An older, round face topped with a white cap came into view.

Jana tried to speak, but her dry tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth.

A cup appeared at her lips and cool water trickled onto her tongue. She gulped and coughed, then murmured, ‘What happened?'

‘You sustained bullet wounds and underwent an operation to remove three bullets. All went well,' the nurse said, giving Jana another drink.

It came back to her: the hail of bullets, the pain, Andrej falling…

‘There was a man with me, Andrej Kovar. Please, how is he?'

‘There were many wounded men in the shoot-out with the Germans. Fatalities too, I'm afraid. There would have been many more if the Soviet tanks hadn't arrived at the train station. Thank goodness it's over.'

‘Over?' said Jana, her mind grasping to make sense of it all.

‘The war. It's over and Prague is liberated.' The nurse's voice was jubilant.

It took a moment to sink in. The news she had been so desperate to hear was surreal, unbelievable, wonderful. A glow of happiness brought a smile to her lips. She needed to speak to Andrej, to see him.

‘Please, find out about Andrej Kovar.'

The nurse gave a curt nod. ‘I'll do my best. Your sweetheart, is he?'

‘Yes,' said Jana without hesitation. ‘He is.'

The ward was full of casualties, men and women lined up in tightly packed beds that ran the length of the room. Nurses rushed in and out with bed pans, medication and dressings. The less seriously injured patients called out to each other, exchanging the latest news: Germany had surrendered and the war in Europe was officially over. Hitler's body had been found in his bunker; he had committed suicide.

Jana kept watch for the nurse she'd asked to find out about Andrej. The woman was rushed off her feet and whirled past on several occasions, but Jana was unable to attract her attention.

The next day, she still hadn't heard anything and cruel doubt slipped around her heart.

She lay on her back, trying to limit her movement, the wounds in her shoulder and her arm more painful now the painkillers had worn off. A young nurse changed her dressings and explained there was not enough medication for everyone. Jana took the opportunity to ask about Andrej, but the young woman was unable to help.

Afraid to fall asleep and miss the older nurse, Jana kept watch on the door of the ward. Eventually, towards evening, the nurse appeared, but she told Jana she had no news; the hospital administration was in chaos.

The thought that Andrej should die in the last moments before the war ended was too terrible to bear. It couldn't be true; she wouldn't let it.

Night came, the hours in the humid room dragging by until, shortly before dawn, Jana succumbed to sleep. She dreamt of Andrej looking at her through the bookshop window while she knelt arranging a fan of bookmarks. Then he extended his hand and pulled her up onto the steamboat, pushing her hair away from her shoulder, whispering her name. But she said nothing and his voice grew louder.

‘Jana. Jana.'

Her heart quickened and she opened her eyes.

He stood by her bed, his arm in a sling, smiling.

‘I've found you,' he said.