Half an hour later, I’d combed every room, but there was no sign of Tristan. He wasn’t in the library either, or anywhere in the old servants’ wing, and the cellar door was locked with the key still in Mr Huggins’ pantry so he couldn’t have gone down there.
‘We’d better search for him outside.’ Sissy was beginning to look worried. ‘I don’t want to tell Her Ladyship, but if there’s no sign of him by dark we won’t have any choice. Oh, the silly boy! Where can he have got to?’
She went to ask Mr Oakes if he’d seen Tristan while the girls and I looked in the greenhouses and the potting shed, then wandered around the gardens near the house. It occurred to me that somebody should check the lake and the boat house, but I couldn’t go off there with the twins in tow. Swallowcliffe was so big, that was the problem! There were a million and one places a person could hide - and stay hidden, if he wanted to. At five o’clock, Tristan had missed nursery tea and Mr Huggins decided the Vyes should be informed he was missing.
The hunt began in earnest as dusk was falling. Lord Vye and the menservants went outside with torches, while Lady Vye ordered Sissy and me to comb the house again. When there was still no sign of Tristan by eight, His Lordship rang the police. Three constables and a sergeant turned up within the hour and before long they were joined by a search party from the village; word had gone round that a child had vanished up at the Hall and everybody wanted to help. Lady Vye stood by the drawing-room window, smoking and watching the beams from their torches criss-cross the darkness. What could she have been thinking?
Nine
My program for educating youth is hard. Weakness must be hammered away. In my castles of the Teutonic Order a youth will grow up before which the world will tremble. I want a brutal, domineering, fearless, cruel youth. Youth must be all that. It must bear pain. There must be nothing weak and gentle about it …That is how I will create the New Order.
Adolf Hitler, speaking in 1933
Andreas was among the villagers in the search party looking for Tristan; I glanced down from one of the upstairs windows and saw him in the lamplight on the terrace beside Mr Tarver. Something made him look up and he spotted me too. He must have managed to slip away somehow because, a few minutes later, I heard footsteps along the corridor and he was knocking on doors to find me. I was surprised he had the nerve to go upstairs in the house, but people were all over the place and this was an emergency, so I suppose he took the chance.
‘Isobel! I thought you’ve gone home until I saw you in the shop.’
‘No, I’m here till Easter now. Mum says I can stay a bit longer.’ I looked away from him out of the window. We were on our own together and in private. It should have been the perfect opportunity to talk but now everything I’d wanted to say had flown straight out of my head. ‘I’m sorry that Mr Tarver won’t let you come up here to paint any more,’ I offered lamely.
He frowned. ‘He doesn’t want me to get away, but I will. I must. There is nothing I can do for my mother if I am in the shop.’
‘Have you heard from her recently?’ I asked.
‘There was a letter last week.’ He obviously didn’t want to tell me any more about it. ‘But now it is time to think of the boy. Do you know why he has run away?’
‘I think it’s because he doesn’t want to go back to boarding school tomorrow.’
‘And what about the girls, his sisters? Has anyone asked them if they know where he is?’
That seemed like a daft question to me. ‘They’d have said by now if they did, wouldn’t they?’
He shrugged. ‘Not if he asked them to keep a secret. I think we must talk to them. Look, I have sweets from the shop.’ He fished a handful of chews out of his pocket. ‘It is all right, I pay for them first.’ We both smiled, remembering Nancy.
‘But they’ll probably be asleep by now. Sissy will be furious if we wake them up.’
‘I do not think so, not with all this noise and people everywhere. Come on, we must try. Will you show me where they are?’
It seemed to me that we were wasting precious time, but Andreas was insistent so I took him up to the nursery. The twins weren’t asleep; they were kneeling on Nancy’s bed in their dressing gowns, staring out of the window with their arms round each other’s shoulders. Sissy was being questioned by the police downstairs so there was no one to tell them to settle down.
‘Hello, girls,’ Andreas said heartily. ‘Do you remember me? I bring some things I know you like.’ He spread the sweets out on the quilt.
‘Can we, Izzy?’ Julia asked. ‘Is it all right?’
‘Just this once,’ I said, hoping Sissy wouldn’t ever find out. ‘And you’ll have to brush your teeth again straight afterwards.’
Andreas and I sat down on the bed and we all munched away at the chews for a little while. ‘There are many people looking for your brother, aren’t there?’ Andreas said. ‘Everyone is worried.’
Neither of the girls spoke, but Nancy shot her sister a quick look.
‘It must not be very nice for him, in the dark,’ Andreas went on. ‘It is cold, too. I hope he remembered to wear a coat.’
‘Oh yes, he did,’ Julia said. ‘And he has a warm jersey …’ Her voice tailed away as she realised what she’d said.
‘How do you know that, Julia?’ I asked. ‘Did you see him going off somewhere?’
She and Nancy looked at each other again, then down at the quilt.
‘Look, you won’t get into trouble and neither will he,’ I said. ‘But we need to find him, quick. Anything could happen out there in the night. He could fall into the lake, or some nasty person might come across him before we do.’
‘But we promised not to tell,’ Julia whispered.
‘Anyway, there aren’t any nasty people on the roof,’ Nancy said.
On the roof? On the roof in the pitch dark? My heart turned over. ‘Girls, you have to tell us exactly where Tristan is, right this minute,’ I said, and something in my voice must have frightened the living daylights out of them, because thank heavens, they did. At one end of the corridor on the floor upstairs was a sash window; if you climbed through it, apparently, you could walk along the roof to a flat space among the chimney pots. That was where he had gone.
‘Shouldn’t we just tell the police?’ I asked Andreas.
‘That will take too long,’ he replied, heading out of the door. ‘And a policeman will make him afraid. I have a torch, so we will go there together.’
‘You want me up there as well?’
‘The boy does not know me. You must come to show him everything is good.’ He looked back at me. ‘You will not fall, I will hold your hand.’
Oh, that was all right, then.
He led the way upstairs while I followed, trying not to think about what would happen next. Why couldn’t we let somebody else bring Tristan down? The thought occurred to me that Andreas wanted to take all the glory for himself, that was why. He threw up the sash window and shone his torch into the night. ‘There it is! See, the path between the chimney stacks?’
‘But we don’t know where it leads.’ I stared out into the black void. ‘There might be a sudden drop we can’t see, or a dead end, or loose tiles, or anything!’
‘If the boy has gone out there, so will we.’ He put a hand on my shoulder. ‘Isobel, I think you are afraid of being afraid. Bad things do not always happen. The fear is the bad thing you have to beat.’ Which I thought was cheeky of him, actually. Even if he was probably right.
Then before I could protest, he’d hoisted me up on the window sill. ‘You go first and I hold the torch behind you. It is quite safe.’
The next second, I was out on the roof of the Hall, with nothing between me and the huge starry sky above. Andreas put his arm around my waist, gave me a little push, and we set off between the chimney stacks. Do you know, it wasn’t so bad? Not once I’d got my bearings. There was one scary moment when I stumbled, but Andreas steadied me straight away, and before long we were stepping out o
n to a flat space on the roof with a balustrade around one edge.
Tristan was crouching opposite us. The torch beam picked out a white, terrified face, and his reedy voice called out, ‘Stop! Don’t come any further!’
He’d made a camp for himself with pillows, blankets and an eiderdown at the foot of the largest chimney stack. Goodness knows how long he was planning to stay out there, but it was a good hiding place; we’d never have found him if the girls hadn’t told us where he was. The only drawback was that now he was cornered - we were blocking off his escape route and he had nowhere to go. To my horror, he turned to a sloping section of the roof behind him and started scrabbling for a foothold to climb up. It was a wild, hopeless attempt: the tiles were too slippery and the roof was too steep. He’d only managed to shin a few feet before he lost his grip and fell down, rolling helplessly towards the edge.
I started forward but Andreas held me back. ‘Leave him! He will be all right.’
Tristan ended up slumped against the balustrade, which was all that protected him from the huge drop below. He clutched one of the stone supports and shouted again, ‘Don’t come any closer!’
‘We won’t.’ Andreas dropped to his knees and sat down, pulling my arm to make me sit with him. He shone the torch along the ground and whispered, ‘Say something nice.’
‘Tristan? It’s me, Isobel,’ I called. ‘Don’t worry, we’re not going to make you do anything you don’t want to. We’ve just come to talk, that’s all. This is Andreas, my friend.’
‘Go away!’ Tristan got to his feet, staggering awkwardly. My stomach lurched - he was so close to the edge of the roof and the balustrade was only waist high - but he made it safely across to his encampment and crawled in among the pillows and blankets. ‘I’m not going back to school, whatever you say.’
‘It is a funny thing,’ Andreas said conversationally. ‘You hate your school and do not want to go there, and with me it is different. I liked my school very much but they will not have me there.’
‘Why not?’ Tristan sounded interested in spite of himself.
‘Because I am Jewish. In Germany now there is a rule that Jews cannot go to school with other children, they must be teached by themselves.’
‘Why do they say that?’
‘It is hard to explain. Some people think all the bad things are because of the Jews, so they must stay on their own.’
In the shadows, I saw Tristan sit up on his heels. ‘But that’s just what I want - to be left alone at home. Didn’t you like it?’
‘Not so much. There was a very good art teacher at my school and that was why I wanted to stay there, even when things were hard.’
‘How were they hard?’
‘For two years, the other boys fight with me every day. There was one other Jewish boy in my class and each morning they wait for us, before school and later in the playground. Then one day, we had a good idea.’ Andreas was talking more quietly now, and Tristan edged forward to hear. ‘We went to the headmaster and said, “Everyone hits us and calls us dirty, lying Jews.” And do you know what this man replied? He said, “Well, what do you want me to do about it? That is exactly what you are.” So we knew nobody would help us.’
‘Did you tell your parents? What did they say?’
‘Every day my mother saw my cuts and bruises, but she can do nothing. I did not want her to worry.’
‘I have bruises, too.’ Tristan shuffled further forward and lifted up his jersey, although it was too dark for us to see anything.
‘Then you understand. There is hurt on the outside but the hurt inside is worse, I think. My mother told me a thing about this. She said if a person hits you for nothing, he is the weak one, not you.’
‘Did you cry when those boys hit you?’ Tristan asked.
‘At first, yes, but I learned how to stop. It is not so hard. And sometimes I tried to fight back. I can teach you, if you want.’
‘It doesn’t matter. I’m not going back there, anyway.’
‘Then do you know what those boys will say? They will say, we have beaten Tristan for sure, we are stronger than he is. And they will choose another person to hit next.’
‘I don’t care. At least it won’t be me.’
‘But you cannot run away for ever, it is not a good thing to do. You must choose: a boy who runs away, or a boy who is not frightened inside.’
‘You ran away, though,’ Tristan said. ‘You’re here, not in Germany any more. Why didn’t you stay and stand up to those other boys?’
Andreas didn’t reply straight away. Then he said quietly, ‘Because it was not only the other boys. It was everyone. Every shopkeeper, every policeman, every neighbour, every person on the street, every friend from before who was not Jewish. I could not stand up to all of them. But you see, now I know it is bad to run away. You must stay if you can.’
Tristan looked at him for what seemed an age. ‘Will you promise to help me?’
‘Of course I will. We will help each other.’ Andreas held out his hand.
‘All right then.’ Tristan edged forward to grasp it, and a wave of relief made me lightheaded.
We walked back along the roof with Tristan sandwiched between us. ‘Andreas,’ I said when we were safely through the window and back in the house - but then I didn’t know how to carry on. What was there to say, after what he’d just told us? I gave him a quick hug instead, surprising myself.
It was a mistake; he didn’t hug me back. ‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘You don’t have to be sad for me. Shall you take downstairs the boy?’
‘No, you do it. You were the one who found him, after all.’
So Andreas was the one who reunited Tristan with his parents. Lord Vye insisted he stay for supper, and there wasn’t much Mr Tarver could do or say about it. I saw the shopkeeper’s face, though, and you could tell he was apoplectic about having to go back to the village on his own. He must have suspected his delivery lad would try to change jobs, and with good reason. The next morning, Andreas turned up at the Hall with his suitcase, to start working with Mr Oakes as garden boy. He would sleep in a little room next to Lord Vye’s studio (the old butler’s pantry) and take his meals in the kitchen with us.
Eunice was scandalised when she heard the news first thing. ‘So the shop isn’t good enough for him,’ she said, coming into the kitchen with her coat half off. ‘After everything Mr Tarver’s done! You’d think he’d show some gratitude, wouldn’t you? I suppose he’s wangled his way in here because he thinks this is where the money is. Well, he’s in for a disappointment.’
‘He doesn’t care about money,’ I said, ‘and he’s worked his socks off for Mr Tarver. Why shouldn’t he go somewhere else if he wants to?’
‘Isobel! That’s quite enough,’ Gran said sharply. ‘When all’s said and done, Mr Tarver took the lad in. Still, Eunice, I should say he’s paid his dues by now. He was the one who brought Master Tristan back safe and sound, don’t forget. I hope we’ll all make him feel welcome.’
Eunice gave a little snort at this and tossed her head. ‘We shall have another foreign visitor soon,’ Gran went on. ‘A letter came from the Refugee Committee this morning. They’ve found a young Polish lady to be a governess for the girls. She sounds very suitable.’ And she gave Eunice a look, as though daring her to object.
Eunice left the room without another word, back to the cloakroom to hang up her coat and hat, and Gran went off to sort out the linen hamper before I could ask her anything about the new governess. I was washing up the breakfast plates when Eunice came back into the kitchen, tying her apron strings. ‘Dear Lord! As if one wasn’t enough,’ she muttered to herself.
Alina Lukowski, that was the Polish girl’s name. She was nineteen, and she could play the piano and the violin, and speak four languages. According to the Refugee Committee, she had taught at a Jewish school in Warsaw until it had been closed down by the authorities the year before. ‘She can have that room next to yours, Izzie, at the end of the corrid
or,’ Gran said at supper that evening. We were all sitting round the table: Mr Huggins, Gran, Sissy, me - and Andreas, wearing an old cotton workshirt and corduroy trousers. (Mr Oakes lived in the gate lodge so he went home in the evenings, like Eunice.) He didn’t say much but watched us intently, ready to help when required. Sissy kept shooting him sideways glances when she thought he wasn’t looking. Perhaps she still believed he had horns.
Alina Lukowski. I tried her name out in my head, savouring the rhythm of it. Perhaps we’d become friends, even though she was older than me and I wouldn’t be at Swallowcliffe for much longer. I could ask her all about life in Poland and she might even write to me when I went back to London. Suddenly I couldn’t wait for her to arrive.
‘I didn’t realise the matter had been arranged,’ said Mr Huggins, wiping his mouth carefully on a white linen napkin. ‘That was very quick.’
‘No point in hanging about, not with the way things are.’ Gran nodded at me to start clearing away our plates and bring the bowls for pudding. ‘I discussed it with Lord Vye when Her Ladyship was away. I should think she’ll be delighted we’ve found such a clever girl.’
‘And how was your first day at the Hall?’ Mr Huggins asked Andreas. ‘Mr Oakes keeping you busy, I trust?’
‘Oh yes. There is a lot to do, digging and planting potatoes. But I like this work,’ he added hastily. ‘It is good to be outside.’
‘What will Mr Tarver do without you?’ Sissy asked. ‘It’s a bit hard on him, isn’t it? You upping sticks and leaving all of a sudden.’
‘I think he will be all right,’ Andreas said. ‘There was nobody to help in the shop before me, but sometimes a boy from the village.’
I shivered inside. Mr Tarver would be furious; it didn’t bear thinking about what he’d be saying to all his customers. Still, at least Andreas had got away from him. That was the main thing. ‘I will help you,’ he said to me, taking Sissy’s plate and stacking it neatly under his own before jumping up from the table so promptly we nearly collided.
Isobel's Story Page 9
