Pierre Frei - Berlin - A Novel

'To think we have to do such things.' said Hejdus. 'This damn war.'

'Nonsense,' said his wife. 'Our grandparents and great-grandparents bartered goods whether it was war or peacetime. Money's always been in short supply in the Spreewald.'

After breakfast they went out. The house that had looked so forbidding the night before lay bathed in sunlight. A little way behind it stood a reedthatched cottage. 'That's where Zastrow and his son live,' Hejdus explained. 'We farm the Kaupe together. The Kaupe? That's what we call the sandy island enriched by the waters of the Spree that our ancestors settled and reclaimed for cultivation three hundred years ago,' he told his guest with pride. 'We grow cucumbers, onions, horseradish and buckwheat, and of course potatoes. Our catches of fish make a great contribution to the final victory, that's what the local Party leader says, and he has the fattest carp parcelled up for himself.'

'Repaying us by turning a blind eye if we forget to fly the Party flag on the Fiihrer's birthday yet again,' added his wife.

Mato waved up at them, smiling. He was sitting in the rowing boat, fishing. Karl ran down to him, and Mato helped him into the boat.

'He ought to be on the Eastern Front,' Hejdus muttered. 'But he won't fight for a regime that ranks us as second-class citizens. We Sorbs are Slavs and don't belong to the Germanic master race.'

'Suppose someone sees him? A healthy young man, not in uniform…?'

'Then he'll end up like young Lenik. Lenik was a rebellious lad even at school. He tore up his call-up papers in front of Liibben Town Hall, said he had better things to do than go to war for those madmen. The SA fetched him from his bed at night. We found him in the morning. He was in a cucumber barrel, head down in the brine.'

Hejdus's eldest daughter sobbed. 'They were engaged, Marja and Lenik,' said her mother sadly.

A duck quacked in alarm some way off. 'Quick, come indoors.' Hejdus took Helga's arm, and Mato followed from the landing stage with Karl. In the kitchen, the master of the house opened a trapdoor. Helga looked down a shaft, and saw her face reflected in water a metre below. A couple of rungs led down the shaft. Hejdus pulled a chain, and there was a rushing, gurgling sound. The water flowed away, revealing a hatch secured by four large, wing-nut screws. Mato let himself down, undid the screws and raised the hatch. 'Right, you and the boy go down there,' Hejdus told them.

Helga helped Karl into the shaft and climbed down after him. Mato caught mother and son at the bottom. A ladder led from the hatch into a room measuring about three by three metres, and the height of a man. Mato lit an oil lamp on the table. In its dim light, Helga saw stools and camp beds. Meanwhile, Hejdus was screwing the hatch back into place overhead. They heard rushing water. 'It will rise to a height of half a metre,' explained Mato with satisfaction. 'Don't worry, the way down is well sealed. The inner tubes of bicycle tyres stuffed with women's hair are the best seal there is. They even use something similar to make U-boat hatches watertight.' The young man pointed to an opening halfway up the wall. 'The ventilation pipe. It ends in a tree stump outside. We have plenty of food and drink, and as long as we keep quiet no one will find us here.'

'How do you know when someone's coming?'

'You couldn't see it in the dark yesterday, but there's an old raised hide for duck shooting at the mouth of the channel. One of us is always on the lookout up there. When someone's coming he quacks like a teal on the decoy whistle. That gives us a good ten minutes to disappear.' The sound of an engine was heard, buzzing angrily like a hornet. Mato raised a warning hand. 'It's Barsig.'

Helga held Karl close, ready to bury his face in her lap to suppress any sound. But the boy looked slyly at her with his narrow, mongol eyes and put a finger on his lips. He had understood.

Deadly fear rose in her, as if icy fingers were tightening around her neck. The sound of the engine cut out. Indistinct voices came down to them. Sweat ran down the back of her neck, and she struggled for air. Mato moved his stool under the opening of the ventilation pipe, and indicated that she should climb up on it. The cool air was a great relief. She took several deep breaths.

Up above, the engine came on again, and quickly receded. Long minutes of anxious waiting followed. Waiting for she didn't know what. At last the water flowed away, gurgling. The hatch was opened, and she saw Hejdus's head. All clear, you can come up now.'

The girls took Karl out of doors with them to play hide and seek. Helga sat down at the table with the others. She was trembling. A glass of juniper spirit helped to calm her. 'Who's Barsig?'

'The sergeant from the police station in Lubnjow. Tough as they come. He turns up unexpectedly all over the place in that boat of his, with its outboard motor. He was probably hoping we wouldn't be reckoning on a Christmas Day visit. That's how he took the Siwalniks by surprise last Easter when they were killing a pig on the quiet. Now they're all in jail in Cottbus.' Hejdus clasped his hands so hard that the knuckles turned white. 'If it didn't mean everyone would be in trouble, we'd have done for him and a few others long ago.'

Are there many like him around, then?'

'Othmar the postman is a rabid Nazi. And Kaunitz the local Party leader. He sent old Wicaz to the guillotine for listening to enemy radio stations.'

Papa Zastrow came in the afternoon. He had two days off. 'They're looking for you and the boy,' he told Helga. 'The medical director has told the Gestapo. Just as a precaution to shield his own back, if you ask me. They think your trail leads to Berlin.'

'Good,' said his son, pleased. 'No one will look for you in the Spreewald.' He took her hand and patted it clumsily. 'You mustn't be frightened.'

'So Urban is back: said Helga. She tried to remain calm, but the fear in her voice gave her away. 'What about the children?'

Zastrow lowered his voice. 'They're being transferred on the fifteenth of January at three in the afternoon.'

'I must go to Klein Moorbach,' Helga decided. 'Who'll take me?'

'Not me,' said Mato firmly. 'One suicide mission is enough.'

'You'll never find the way alone. What do you want to do there anyway?' asked Hejdus, sounding troubled.

'See what happens. Be a witness for when the day of reckoning comes.'

'If they catch you they'll take you to the Gestapo head office in Cottbus. They'll get you to talk there sooner or later, and we'll all be done for. They're just waiting for an excuse to put all us Sorbs in a camp, like they did with the gypsies.'

Wanda Hejdus spoke up, smoothing things over. 'Please stay here, Helga. Your Karl needs you. All these horrors will soon be over, and then you can go wherever you like.'

Zastrow tried to be optimistic too. 'Now that the Americans are joining in, I'm glad to say it's purely a question of time.'

'You're right. How stupid of me. I'm grateful to you all for letting Karl and me stay here,' said Helga, mollifying her hosts. But secretly she hadn't changed her mind.

The girls were playing on the landing stage with Karl. Hejdus was mending fish-traps in the winter sunlight. Wanda was in the kitchen. Helga strolled over to the Zastrows' cottage.

Mato was sitting by the window, practising his accordion. His father had gone back to the porter's lodge the day before. Helga came up behind the young man and stroked his head.

'Don't give yourself the trouble, I'm not taking you.' She began massaging his neck gently. Anyway. what do you want to go back to that nuthouse for?' She slipped the strap of the accordion off his shoulders, and the palms of her hands circled on his chest through his shirt. She felt his nipples hardening. He put the accordion down on the table. 'Hejdus will murder me if I take you.'