Chapter 6

6

The snow continued to fall, enveloping the city in a silent, white cloak; a fairy tale of sparkling towers, glistening roofs and mysterious statues, their faces hidden by masks of white crystals. But the fairy tale was a fa?ade that hid the brutal oppression under the new Governor, Reinhard Heydrich, and Jana's anger burned.

It was another three days before the skies cleared and the buses out of Prague were running again. Jana and her father took the first bus available to see Michal. Jana was anxious for the boy. She could hardly imagine how he must be feeling, torn from his family and forced to live with a stranger; where he must remain hidden, unable to meet with other children. And worst of all, the news of his parents was bad. Jana had found out that Michal's father and pregnant mother had been sent to Terezin, a former fortress that was now some sort of relocation camp. There were conflicting reports about the place; everything from it being a spa town for recuperation to an overfilled, filthy prison. Jana chewed her lip as she stared out the bus window, her father dozing by her side. The idea that Heydrich would send Jews on holiday was ludicrous propaganda .

She and Papa were still stamping the snow from their boots on the front step when the door flew open and they were greeted by Babi's warm smile. ‘I saw you through the window, Gustav,' she said, embracing Papa, and then Jana.

As they entered, Michal appeared in the small hallway. Bending down on one knee, Jana held out her arms. ‘Hello, Michal. I'm so happy to see you.'

He bounded towards her and buried his head in her coat. He said nothing as she and Papa shed their coats and boots, just watched her with round, brown eyes. She took his hand and they all moved to the living room where they were welcomed by the warmth of the coal fire and the inviting smell of something cooking on the stove.

‘When I saw the clear weather this morning, I knew you would come, so I've made us a hearty lentil soup.' Babi went to the large pot and lifted the lid, checking the contents.

‘We've brought you some provisions too,' said Jana, placing her basket on the kitchen counter and unpacking tins of food. Then everyone drew chairs up to the fire and Michal sat on a cushion at Jana's feet.

‘Have you found Mummy and Daddy?' he asked in a tiny voice.

Jana exchanged looks with Papa and drew a deep breath.

‘We have indeed, and they are well,' she said with a forced brightness.

‘Are they coming home?'

‘Not yet. They are staying at a settlement just outside Prague.'

‘Then I can go to them.' Michal's voice was stronger now.

Her chest tightened. ‘It's better for you not to. Your parents would want you to stay with us.' She remembered the fear on Michal's mother's face as she was tumbled into the car and the shake of her head as her eyes swept from her son and settled on Jana. The look had been a plea to protect him, and Jana would do everything in her power to do so.

Michal bowed his head and started pulling at the tassels on the cushion.

‘It's because we're Jewish, isn't it? People don't like us.'

A heavy silence filled the room, each adult struggling to find a reply. Jana was overwhelmed with the responsibility of finding the right words. An explanation. For a five-year-old child. But none came to her.

‘I like you,' said Jana, simply. ‘Very much. And so does my Papa and Babi.'

She leaned forward and stroked his fringe back from his forehead. She sought to find the right words.

‘But yes, there are some unkind people, but there are also good people in the world, and they will win over the badness and until then we will keep you safe.' Jana wanted to add that he would see his parents again, but she faltered at giving him a promise she could not keep.

They ate their lunch and afterwards, Babi brought a crate into the living room that was filled with Papa's old toys. The adults watched as Michal unpacked the hand-carved farm animals crafted by Jana's grandfather and lined them up on the floor.

‘How has he been?' Papa asked Babi in a quiet voice.

She sighed. ‘What can we expect? He hardly says a word, mostly communicating with a nod or shake of the head. Or when he has no answer, he stares at the floor. It will take time but I'm sure I can win his confidence eventually.'

‘It was traumatic for him. First, he saw his mother arrested and then he had to hide like a hunted animal under the sink,' said Jana .

‘He mentioned the policeman who drew back the curtain,' Babi said.

Jana's stomach flipped. ‘What do you mean?'

‘That a police officer pulled open the curtain, looked at him and put a finger to his lips. Then he closed the curtain and went away.'

Jana jolted. ‘He saw Michal?'

‘Apparently, yes.'

Jana watched Michal gallop a wooden horse across the floorboards, making the accompanying neighing sounds. Why hadn't he mentioned the incident to her? But thinking about it, he'd been so traumatised by events, he'd hardly spoken at all, only asking after his parents. It had been Captain Kovar who'd searched the kitchen and then announced the all-clear. And a few days later, he'd returned to the shop with the Gestapo. What was this fascist Czech up to? Was he setting a trap? She would be starting work at Prague Castle next week, right in the heart of the Nazi government, and this sudden appearance of Captain Kovar in her life made her uneasy.