I wanted to cry out and rip the weapon from Jakob’s hands. What if he was killed? Then I would truly be alone.
He ducked his head as he joined the others filing out into the other room, avoiding my narrow gaze.
‘I will look after him.’ Oskar’s shoulder brushed against mine. I could not bring myself to look at him, so I focused on the collar of his jacket. It was flecked with mud that had dried and formed a speckled crust over the fabric. ‘I will keep him at the back, close by me. I swear to you. Kati. Look at me.’
I raised my chin, summoning every scrap of fear and anger so I would not be tempted to cry.
Oskar’s mouth twitched. ‘I promise.’ He raised his hand and tucked a strand of hair off my face with his thumb. I could smell the rifle on his fingertips, an oily bitter scent.
‘Just see that you do,’ I said. ‘Please.’
Oskar nodded. ‘I don’t want you here,’ he said, straightening. His tone was authoritative; the voice he had used before with the partisan boys under his command. ‘It’s too dangerous. There are no exits, if you’re caught. You’re to go with Hilja. There’s a safety point not far away. That’s where people will flee to, when they get wind of what the Russians are doing. Once there’s enough of you, Hilja will take you all into the deep woods to the camp. It’s where we try to keep the young and the elderly. Those who aren’t fit enough to fight. It’s safer; fewer patrols there. And there are guards and places to escape to, if you’re found. We’ll join you there when we can.’
‘Where is the safe point?’
Oskar hesitated. ‘My old farmhouse.’
I felt myself sway, as if the ground were buckling beneath me. Oskar’s hand shot out and caught me. His fingers locked around my wrist, and he stroked his thumb across my racing pulse.
‘I can’t go back there.’ I heard the lowing of cows. Smelled the thick rivers of sticky caramel. Saw the blood staining the floorboards. ‘Too many ghosts,’ I whispered.
‘Nonsense.’ Oskar smiled sadly. ‘My mother and Aime are long gone. They won’t come back, not in any form. And I’m not intent on becoming a ghost myself.’
‘You promise?’
Oskar glanced around swiftly. The room was empty. We were alone.
Shouldering the rifle, he stepped towards me, slid his arms around my waist and kissed me swiftly, his lips gently touching mine before he pulled away.
‘I promise,’ he said. ‘No secrets. You see? I do remember. You will listen to Hilja, won’t you?’
My heart thudded in my chest. I want so badly for you to stay here, I thought. But I could hear the Germans murmuring and feet shuffling as the men waited outside for Oskar to lead them. I made myself nod stiffly.
Moments later, I heard Oskar’s voice in the corridor outside.
My throat ached, raw with pain, everything I had not said trapped inside.
Ladybird Pattern
Lydia
‘I need to get home.’
Etti’s voice was soft, home drawn out on a breath so quiet it was almost a whisper. If we had not been huddled together with Olga behind the window of the Partorg’s apartment, watching the shadowy forms of deportees being marched past the fence, I might not have realised she had spoken at all.
The sound of shuffling feet and voices shouting orders in Russian had lessened now, changing from a steady flow of noise to a faint hum, like the static on a wireless. None of us had spoken as the horror played out in the street. Men and women. Children and elderly people, carrying walking sticks and shuffling with difficulty down the steps to where the cars were waiting. The soldiers spared no one but herded them all into waiting wagons, destined for the train station. We heard them shouting in Russian as they evicted people from their homes.
‘No razors! No weapons of any kind! One suitcase only! Davai: hurry! The train is leaving! Davai!’
I bit my lip hard, recalling it all.
My fathers had caused this. Both of them; the real and the imposter.
‘You’re safer here.’ But even as I said the words, I heard the lie in them. Who was I to comfort Etti?
‘Mama will need me. What if her friends have been taken?’ Etti’s face, when she turned towards me, was haggard, her eyes circled by shadows. As I watched, she flinched and closed them, pressing down on her belly as if it pained her.
‘I think you should stay,’ I repeated. ‘Olga, don’t you agree?’
My companion looked small and shrunken in her worn dressing gown. ‘I think so, yes. I remember what it was like, in the Revolution. The streets were full of gunfire.’ She cinched her dressing gown tighter around her waist. ‘Whatever is happening out there, at least if you stay here, there is less danger of being shot.’
Etti tilted up her chin. ‘You don’t know my mother. She will panic, grow angry. She might say something ridiculous, trying to defend the others. No.’ She shook her head. ‘I have to go to her. I’ve no choice.’
I began to protest but she raised a hand and then hurried to the kitchen, emerging a moment later with her basket. With one hand, she pulled the edge of her shawl up so that it half-hid her face.
‘Lock the door once I am gone, and stay inside,’ she said. ‘No matter what you hear.’
She threw a fearful glance towards the window. Outside, the wind had begun to blow. Shadowy figures drifted past the gate, blurred shapes moving against the purple twilight. I could feel her terror as if it were my own, a place just beyond the threshold of the doorway.
The despair in her face made me think of Joachim. It seemed like so long ago now. Could it only have been days? I knew I would never forget his bloodless lips, the words he had mouthed at me. And the way people had turned away until the car moved off with him inside. All those faces averted, as if he had already ceased to exist.
And I had turned away, too. Would I ever forgive myself for letting him go?
‘Wait!’
Etti jumped, her hand already on the door frame.
‘I’m coming with you.’
‘Lida! You can’t.’ Olga tugged at my arm. ‘What would your mother say? She would want you to stay safe!’
‘I don’t care.’ Olga gasped. I softened my voice. ‘I’m sorry, Olga.’ I pressed my hands together to stop them shaking, filled with the memory of Joachim’s desperate face. ‘I have to do this. I’ll be back as quickly as possible. I’ll just see Etti home. I promise.’ I tried to dig up a smile for her but it wouldn’t come.
Olga stared at me, seemingly robbed of breath. Then she moved quicker than I thought possible, clomping up the stairs without a backward glance. Etti and I exchanged looks.
Moments later, Olga appeared wrapped in the enormous chestnut bear fur, her tiny frame making the coat seem even larger as it trailed on the floor after her. There was a determined look in her eyes. Kissing Olga’s cheek, I turned back to Etti, still waiting at the door for us to escort her into the night.
I am doing this for you, Joachim, I thought, gritting my teeth, before we stepped outside into the dusk.
Moth Stitch
Kati
Hilja did not utter a word until we reached the clearing and Oskar’s farmhouse. She moved silently, slipping through the trees like a spirit. I followed as best I could, tripping sometimes, trying to imagine we were simply two friends walking together, to push down the fear of being discovered by Soviet patrols. Finally, she stopped at the edge of the trees and straightened up, her hands on her hips, eyes roving across the glade as she searched for signs of life.