‘He’s dead,’ Lydia said suddenly. ‘Isn’t he?’
Oskar’s head jerked up. He stared at her.
‘Jakob.’ Lydia spoke calmly. ‘He’s dead. I know it.’
Oskar’s hands began to tremble, and I wanted to reach out and hold them but I could not move. Not true, I thought. Oskar will tell her it’s not true.
Oskar’s tongue darted out to moisten his cracked lips. ‘They caught us at Haapsalu,’ he said. ‘We were running messages back and forth to Stockholm. Using safe houses when we could. Barns. Sleeping under the stars sometimes. Putting people in contact with other runners. A man contacted us, asking for help. Said he needed to get out. He had two daughters. Could we help.’ He shuddered. ‘I didn’t want to. I had… a feeling. But Jakob; you know how he is. How he – was.’
His voice broke and he looked at me. His eyes were heavy with pain and pity.
Trusting. Caring.
I remembered my brother cradling the scrap of puppy to his chest, nuzzling his ten-year-old face into its mangy coat. My mother’s shriek of horror. The squeak of the door as she thrust it out into the yard.
But I’ll clean him! I’ll take care of him! Nobody wanted him; he would have died.
‘Where did he fall?’ I heard my own voice but didn’t recognise it. It was the voice of someone hard and bitter, spoken through gritted teeth. It was the only way I could speak, though. If I allowed myself to process things properly, to feel, then I would come undone, entirely.
‘They were waiting for us on the promenade. Cornered us beside the bathhouses.’ Oskar stared down at his jerking hands. ‘They shot Jakob in the chest. I saw him go down. Everyone started screaming. I ran.’ His throat moved convulsively. ‘I just kept running until I reached the safe house. I kept moving after that, never resting. I found a man who took me to Sillamäe. I walked here from there. I didn’t stop, for anything.’
He ran his hand across his bloodshot eyes and then looked directly at me. ‘I just wanted to tell you. It didn’t matter if I was caught. I’m sorry, Kati. I promised you I would care for him and I… I failed. Jakob is gone but he… he died bravely.’
The room swam.
I felt as if I were sitting in a bubble that was shrinking, growing smaller with each inhalation of my breath. The air in my lungs would have to last. I felt my heart fluttering, beating against my ribs. The truth pressed in, circling, squeezing around me until at last I could not deny Oskar’s words. Jakob was gone. The man who knew my childhood, who shared the last memories of my family. I was the only one left.
I groped blindly for Oskar. All I could think about was my brother’s face, cheeks flushed warm by his blood, his beating heart. All gone now.
Arms snaked around my body and Oskar’s bristled cheek pressed into my neck, and finally I felt myself break.
The air outside was as sharp as razors. Each breath I drew seemed an effort. Frost glittered on the trees and a thick pelt of fresh snow carpeted the ground.
I rubbed my arms against the cold. The street and everything beyond it was black, the curfew already in force. Etti’s breath huffed in the air as she cuddled Leelo to her for warmth. The child’s mouth hung open. The sleeping draught we had given her had worked quickly, softening her limbs. We could not afford to have her cry out and give us away, or wake up at a crucial checkpoint.
Only the scrap of moon left in the sky revealed the outline of the man before us.
‘You are ready?’
Oskar drew us towards him, holding me awkwardly with his gloved hand. He was so thin, I could feel his bones beneath his coat. He looked at me. ‘Kati?’
I nodded. ‘I will fetch her.’
Lydia was standing in the kitchen near the warmth of the fire, clutching her bag. She had drawn her mother’s shawl around her head and tied it beneath her chin. Her eyes were downcast, dark lashes spread against the mottled pink of her cheeks.
A pulse thudded in my throat. I felt sick, now that it was time to leave. The magnitude of our flight had not imposed itself upon me until this moment. Everything familiar would now be different. We had no choice but to turn away from the place where we had been born. We were the last living members of our families – Oskar and Etti. Lydia and me. Our dreams were buried here, along with those who had not survived. My heart ached bitterly for Jakob.
I went to Lydia and slipped my arm through hers. I squeezed gently. ‘It’s time.’
A tear rolled down Lydia’s face. When she spoke, it was barely a whisper. ‘I’m carrying his child.’
Shock rippled through me. I turned to stare at her. Before I could ask more, though, I heard Oskar’s gentle cough. There was no time to talk now. I pulled Lydia out into the garden where the others were waiting.
Our guide led us through the banks of snow, his footsteps so light I was ashamed by my own clumsy ones.
I glanced back at the townhouse, searching for Kristiina or Heldur. But the house was dark and silent, receding as we marched away. All traces of us had been wiped clean. It was as if we had never been there at all.
The stars swirled overhead, polished clean and bright by the cold.
We walked until my legs ached, past blacked-out houses and down silent streets. It was strange and surreal, as if we were the only people still living.
‘We should pray for no bombs tonight.’ Jaan’s voice was a thin thread. I searched to find it in the darkness; he was ahead, guiding us, Etti following close. I could hear Lydia’s boots crunch behind me. Although my heart ached for her, I did not turn around. I was afraid she would disappear, like the girl in the story my grandmother used to tell who married a farmer and yet could not remember who she was or where she came from. When he told her, she vanished, leaving him to care for their children.
When we reached the river, Jaan left us beside a copse of trees. A small shoulder of black sand cupped the edge of the water. Jaan’s boat was hidden beneath a pile of broken, twisted trees, their trunks ghostly in the dim light.
I felt Oskar shiver beside me, shifting from one foot to the other. I pressed against him, hoping that some of my warmth would leach into him, or at least that he would know he was not alone. In response, he wrapped his arm around my shoulder. I felt his lips bruise my forehead, the wind carrying away the sound of the kiss.
I wished Lydia would come to us, too. But she stayed rigid at the edge of the trees, her hands balled in her coat, staring down at the waves lapping against the shore.
The sound of heaving and grunting echoed up the shoreline, along with the whine of the cord being pulled uselessly as the engine failed to catch.
‘Damn!’ Jaan appeared before us. He smelled of saltwater and sweat. ‘She won’t start.’
Oskar’s arm fell away. ‘Let me try.’
He strode down towards the boat. A moment later, he’d returned, Jaan at his heels.
‘It’s no use,’ he said.
‘I have another hidden a little way upriver.’ Jaan did not sound concerned. I wondered how many times he had done this, that he could sound so calm in the face of disaster. ‘But it’s a fair walk and the snow is beginning to fall.’
‘We can’t carry Leelo far in the snow.’ I looked across at where Etti was standing, swaying back and forth with the sleeping infant in her arms. ‘We will have to go back to Heldur’s… and try again.’
‘I have a friend not far from here with a sled.’ Jaan blew out a breath that hung in the air. ‘If you can wait here, I will fetch it. It will make things quicker. Faster. Then we can be on our way.’
‘Aren’t you worried the Germans will hear us in a sled?’ I said.
Jaan scoffed. ‘The Germans don’t know snow like we do. Don’t worry.’ But I heard the unspoken concern in his voice. Any patrol could spot us. A sled with panting dogs would be easy to see and hear.