However, if Anton didn’t lose his temper, Leo certainly did. ‘What? You know what, I am sick of the sound of your voice and, by the way, Anton, you were no friend of Misha’s. Friends don’t bully one another. Remember when you had your mates slap him because of the colour of his hair. Remember when you….’
Vlad laid his hand lightly on Leo’s shoulder, causing him to fall silent.
Anton sniffed loudly and said, ‘We need to find our regiment!’
They had achieved something rather amazing. In a city where there were thousands of soldiers, the three boys had managed to end up in the ruins of a deserted house all by themselves.
Vlad knew that what Anton said made sense. However, he much preferred staying where they were. As far as he was concerned, it was better to spend the rest of the night in the house. ‘Look,’ he said, ‘it’s late. Don’t you think it’s best to wait until tomorrow morning? We don’t know where we are or where we’re supposed to go. The shooting has stopped, so maybe everyone just sleeps at night. It might be a rule, or something?’
Leo shrugged in moody agreement while Anton was unsure. ‘But if the Germans are asleep, shouldn’t we go out now and find the others?’
Leo’s reaction was instant, ‘Typical!’
Vlad knew that his friend was only annoyed because Anton was absolutely right. Vlad quietly took charge of the three of them, so quietly that he didn’t realise it himself. ‘Okay, Anton, that makes more sense. So, we’d better work out where we’re going now, because once we get outside it’s probably best to do as little talking as possible since we have no idea where the Germans are.’
Leo was staring at the wall behind him, and Vlad turned to see what he was looking at, and found himself face to face with a huge, white wolf – a painting, that is, that someone had taken great care with.
‘Oh, it’s beautiful!’ said Vlad, forgetting for a blissful moment where they were and what they had to do.
‘Isn’t it?’ nodded Leo, smiling for the first time in a long time.
Vlad laughed. ‘Imagine having him for a pet or a guardian. Some people believe that wolves are the same as guardian angels, but then there are others who say they are demons in disguise.’
Leo smiled awkwardly. ‘Well… my grandmother believes that our family has a spirit wolf, called Sheba, who watches over all of us.’ He made a face. ‘I’m not too sure about it, to be honest.’
Vlad was prepared to be open-minded. ‘What makes her say that? Has she actually seen the wolf?’
This interesting discussion might have gone on for much longer, except for one thing: Anton, an impatient boy who neither read books – unless he was forced to, for school – nor believed in magic or anything he could not touch with his bare hands. He longed to get out of the house and join up with the other soldiers, their comrades, because he had had a taste that day of what it was to be respected for his ideas, and he liked it.
Gathering together every drop of sarcasm he could manage, he mowed through the boys’ conversation, ‘So sorry to interrupt this lovely chat about angels but perhaps – just perhaps – we should be concentrating on how we’re going to get out of here. Sorry to be so boring and all!’
Vlad couldn’t help himself. He burst out laughing, being careful not to be too loud, while Leo rolled his eyes.
It was not the reaction he had expected, but Anton glowed with pleasure all the same.
‘Poor Misha,’ said Leo, as carefully as he could. ‘Although I don’t think he would have been able for this.’
The other two neither agreed nor disagreed but Vlad said, ‘When we get settled I’ll write to his parents.’ He paused to give Anton a defiant look. ‘And I’ll tell them he died a hero’s death.’
Slightly shocked that he would be doubted about agreeing to this, Anton put up his hands and exclaimed, ‘Yes, yes!’ Then he thought of something. ‘We’re all heroes, aren’t we? The others took off, but we stayed behind Mr Belov – Misha and us. We came to Stalingrad, and nobody can take that away from us.’
For the first time ever Leo and Vlad were in complete agreement with him. It was a little miracle in itself, and one that would have pleased Mr Belov.
Vlad took a deep breath and asked his classmates, ‘Are we ready, then?’
‘For what?’ Leo couldn’t help saying.
‘Keep an eye out for Germans,’ muttered Anton.
Leo snorted, ‘Thanks for pointing out the obvious!’
Undeterred, Anton gave the breadknife to Leo, who allowed Vlad to hold the gun that he had taken from the body outside. So, the three of them were now armed, although none of them were too sure about actually harming or killing a person.
Vlad led the way back out on to the street. Someone shouted out in the distance, and they could hear the sound of racing footsteps. Vlad felt he had walked out onto a stage, where the audience could watch his every move, while he couldn’t see them at all. It was certainly spooky, especially when Vlad could not decide what was more frightening: bumping into Nazis or getting utterly lost. What if we end up on the wrong side, completely surrounded by enemy soldiers?
It seemed sensible to move away from the Volga and go deeper into the city. This much was expected of them, at the very least. Keeping as close as possible to the charred walls, they inched their way forward, all hoping and praying that they were doing the right thing. The moon lit the way for them. Vlad was mightily grateful to be able to see where he was putting his feet; there was just so much rubble to stumble over, and, apart from the embarrassment of stupidly ending up on his backside, there was also the threat of making noise that would alert lurking Nazis to their whereabouts.
He thought of Misha again, wondering was his ghost somewhere in the sky looking down upon them. To his horror, his eyes suddenly filled with tears. This was no time to start crying. Quickly, he decided to pretend that Misha was still alive, somewhere in Stalingrad, probably doing the very same thing, making his way down a strange street, with new friends he had made.
There was a hiss from behind him. ‘What?’ he whispered. Anton gestured to the air above Vlad’s head. Vlad dutifully gazed upwards but had no idea what he was meant to be looking at. Hundreds of stars sparkled in the navy sky, twinkling away as calmly as they always did at home. It was soothing to see such a familiar sight. Vlad assumed that Anton must have meant him to be comforted by this fact, that this desperate city had the same stars as home; even if it wasn’t the sort of thing that he’d expect Anton to think. In fact, he was just about to smile his thanks when he saw that the other two were not looking at anything at all; instead they appeared to be listening.
‘What?’ he asked again, but, then, before either of his friends could be bothered to answer him, he heard it – music on the night air. The three boys listened for several minutes, in complete silence.
‘It’s a piano, isn’t it?’ whispered Anton.
Leo said quietly, ‘Yep, Beethoven. It must be a German playing it. I heard that Russian musicians are no longer allowed to play German composers.’
It was strange to be standing on a ruined street, in a ruined city, listening to the desolate strains of a beautiful melody that certainly deserved a finer location than this. A sudden burst of gunfire rang out, making the boys jolt in unison. The music stopped, as if taking fright too. Vlad was struck by how sad he felt at the resulting silence. The three of them waited, and waited, and were rewarded for their patience when the distant concert resumed once more. Leo breathed a sigh of relief, and whispered, ‘As long as there’s music…’