“Darling, pay attention!” Perry was very conscious of the waiter standing by the coffee urn, a white linen cloth over his arm. “The last place Brunhilda asked you to visit.” He bit into crunchy bread. “Herr Count assured me that the area you seek is marshland. A great deal of it is under water!”
“I am so sorry I asked you to help me keep my promise to Grandmother Brunhilda.” Krista wanted to get in the van and drive straight to the border. “It is her birthday today, November 10th, you know.”
“I had forgotten.” Perry admired the figure Krista presented, sitting across the table from him. She had insisted on wearing one of the charming outfits she had packed for this journey. Under her slacks, he knew she was wearing her last fresh pair of long winter undergarments. She refused to wear the dainties that had been much handled by German guards. The men had taken a perverse pleasure from handling the delicate items.
“She would have been one hundred and five today.” Krista was playing for the waiter who, she felt, was paying a great deal of attention to what was being said at their table. She allowed the sadness she felt at failing to rescue poor Gisele Waters to show – tears tracked down cheeks glowing from the beauty treatments she’d received at the spa.
“My poor darling!” Perry, dressed in his Savile Row suit, took a white handkerchief from his inside jacket pocket. He stood and gently dried her tears. “I do not mean to upset you. Please, don’t cry.”
The urn containing the ashes was almost empty. They had made a production of spreading the ashes into the wind wherever they had stopped. He would be glad to see the last of them. He pressed a kiss into her forehead before taking his seat.
***
“Drive to Essen.” Perry was once more in his wheeled passenger-seat, the map spread out before him. “It is a short journey from here.” It would take them less than an hour to reach Essen. It was one of the areas mentioned in particular by Captain Waters. They were determined to do all they could to allow Gisele Waters to reach them but the trip they had planned would lead them directly to the German-Belgium border. It was time to leave.
Krista was once more wearing her oiled clothing. The laundry had been returned and packed. She was happy to be heading in the direction of the border. The tension and fear of the people they had passed today was making her physically ill. As a child she had learned to judge the atmosphere in the Dumas household. It gave her time to get out of the way of flying fists and shouting voices. She could almost taste the fear in the atmosphere in Dusseldorf.
“Would you think that I was losing my senses if I told you I want to find a deep dark hole and hide?”
“Not in the least,” Perry said. “There are far too many soldiers on the road.” A troop-carrying truck passed their van with an angry blare of its horn. “The people are afraid. You can sense it everywhere we have visited. I will be glad to get you out of here and back to Britain. This is no place for a woman.” He was thinking of Gisele Waters, hating the thought of leaving her to the mercy of the soldiers.
They motored along, saying little but each paying attention to the vehicles that passed them. They reached Essen and here too they could feel the tension. They had agreed to stock up with foodstuffs at the market.
Krista parked in a side street and, with her basket in hand, they entered the marketplace. They both had to work hard not to react to what they were seeing around them. As they purchased bread, sandwich fillings and cans to restock their larder, the pushing and verbal abuse towards some of the customers was shocking.
“We should stop here for lunch.” Perry wanted to pick Krista up and run. He doubted he could eat but they needed to get out of the market crowd. He pointed to a nearby restaurant.
“A cup of coffee and a warm place to sit out of this wind would be welcome,” Krista agreed.
They both forced food down while watching the view outside the tall windows of the restaurant. There was actual violence taking place towards customers. The soldiers marching around were turning a blind eye – some even laughed. The time it took to eat the food and pay seemed an eternity. They left the restaurant arm in arm and, keeping well out of the way of the pushing crowd, walked towards where they had parked.
“Perry!” Krista began to run.
The campervan was tilting to one side. Reaching it, she rounded it to stare in disbelief at its tyres.
She darted back around it to shout “Perry! Someone has slashed two of our tyres!”
He was making his way with slow careful steps over the uneven cobbles. He halted in shock.
A man saw their plight and walked over to them. He was so wrapped up against the cold, it was impossible to make out his features.
He shook his head for a moment before saying in English, “My brother has a garage and workshop on the outskirts of town. He may have tyres that will fit.”
“How can we get there?” Perry felt an itch at the back of his neck. Someone had written in white paint English Go Home along the side of the van. He touched it gingerly – it was whitewash and should be easy to remove. A small blessing. They needed to leave this place. “We have one spare tyre but who carries two!”
“I will telephone my brother. He has a recovery vehicle.” He stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at them. “But it will cost you.”
“Thank you. That would be a great help.” Perry began to take the spare wheel and tools to change it from the van. Whoever had slit the tyres had done it on one side of the van, probably to keep out of sight. The recovery van would lift the van onto its back wheels and pull it along the road. They needed a good wheel on each side for that.
The man hurried away to find a telephone. Krista and Perry put the articles they purchased away before both turning their attention to changing the tyre. There were a great many ribald remarks from passing soldiers, but no one offered to help or bothered them further. They soon had the wheel changed, tools returned to their place and the van ready to move. All they could do was sit inside the cold van and keep watch against further vandalism. They were both praying that the stranger was really going to telephone someone to help them.
At the sound of a large vehicle approaching they jumped to their feet. When they opened the van door and stepped outside, they discovered the man had been as good as his word. He grunted instructions to them in English.
The van was soon standing on its two back wheels, attached to the recovery vehicle. The stranger jumped into the truck beside his brother. Krista and Perry were told to jump into the back of the recovery vehicle, dangerously close to the crane with its heavy chains that would pull the van along behind them. The sight of the two English people sitting in the cold with their van being towed along caused a great deal of amusement among soldiers and passing strangers.
It took some time to drive through Essen towards the outskirts of the city. The garage was in a remote area set well back from the road with tall trees surrounding it. When the recovery vehicle stopped, Perry and Krista were both frozen.
“I cannot offer you a hand out,” the helpful stranger muttered into the scarf surrounding his neck.
Krista was taken aback.
“There is a fire in the shack.” He gave a jerk of his chin in the direction of the large barnlike building to one side at the back of the lot. “Get inside before you freeze.” He turned his attention to helping his brother.
Krista and Perry climbed out of the truck and walked towards the barn. The front was open with cars and trucks parked inside. There was a three-sided shack off to one side inside the larger building. They walked towards it, almost groaning when the heat from a closed freestanding fire reached them.
“I am sorry about your tyres,” the man said, entering the shack. “It was the only way I could think of to get you to where I needed you.” He removed his muffler and hat, revealing the man they had met in the cathedral in Aachen. The one who warned Perry to get Krista out of Germany. “You speak German, yes?” he asked in English, looking at Krista.
“Yes.
I am –”
“No names!” The man barked. “You may call me Jan.” He jerked his head towards the driver of the recovery vehicle when he entered the shack. “He is not really my brother but it will be understood that I expect to make money out of the idiot Englishers who are wandering around an area that is dangerous to all!” He shouted so loudly that veins stood up on his forehead. “You will ignore what he says.”
The other man began to make telephone calls in search of replacement tyres. His words in German were insulting to both of them. He expressed glee at the amount of money he was going to take from the stupid foreigners.
“I am afraid this is going to take more time than I would like.” Jan shook his head sadly. “Slitting your tyres was a spur-of-the-moment action. I needed to get you both out of the market and somewhere safe. It is dangerous to be on Germany’s roads at the moment. I told you once before, you must leave here.”
“That was our intention until you slit our tyres!” Perry snapped.
“You cannot travel the roads this evening!” Jan huffed. “There are things happening. I cannot believe you are not aware.” He hung his head for a moment. “I am ashamed of my countrymen right now. They are shooting and setting fire to shops, homes, displacing men, women and children. It is madness.”
“Why would you help us?” Krista asked.
“Because of me.” A voice came out of the darkness.
A woman clad all in black, an old-fashioned hat pulled low on her head, was slowly revealed. “I needed to contact you.”
“You need to rest!” Jan hurried over to the swaying figure. He took her gently by the arm and led her to the only chair in the shack.
“My God!” Perry gasped when the woman’s features were revealed in the light from the fire. The face was a feminine copy of her twin brother’s. “Gisele Waters.”
Gisele ignored their surprise. She was so grateful for the help her dear friend was giving her but their presence here endangered him.
“Do you have any food in that travelling wagon of yours?” Jan hadn’t dared bring food to the garage in case it was noted.
“Yes, of course.” Krista had been momentarily frozen in shock. “I will brew a pot of coffee and heat up a few cans of stew. We have plenty of bread.”
“No!” Jan barked. “Carry all you need in a basket into the garage. You must not be seen to be serving food and drink to anyone here. We are to be enemies.”
Krista ran from the garage, making a mental list of all she would need. They had plenty of food. They had just restocked.
“How on earth did you get here?” Perry asked the woman sagging in the chair.
“I walked through nightmares.” Gisele closed her eyes against the sights she had seen. “I took night trains. It is not safe to be on the streets after dark. What I have seen …” Tears flowed freely down her chalky cheeks. “They set fire to buildings. They pulled men, women and children into the street and laughed.”
“Who did?” Perry demanded when the words stopped.
“Soldiers, brave German soldiers and people – neighbours shouted abuse and laughed. It was unbearable and all I could do was crouch in fear and watch.” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.
“When did this happen?” Perry asked.
“Last night. I know not where I was. I have been walking for what feels like days, hiding and scurrying like an animal.” She let her head fall to the back of the chair. “I thought to walk across the border through one of the many out-of-the-way places but everywhere I went I found soldiers stringing barbed wire.” She looked at Perry. “I could not believe it when my friend Jan told me he had seen you both days ago in Aachen. I lost all hope. It was sheer chance that Jan heard of your presence in the market square. Why on earth did you return to this area?”
“Your brother made a point of mentioning Essen many times.” Perry was aware of Krista running back and forth between the garage and the campervan. The welcome smell of coffee was beginning to drift towards the shack. “We are heading towards the border but we thought to check this area out one more time.”
“Thank God you did,” Gisele whispered. “I am at the end of my strength.”
The two men looked at each other over the head of the woman, both sick at what was happening in the world around them.
Krista carried her basket with bread and cheese into the shack. “This is no time for niceties.” She cleared a space on an oil-stained surface, looking around for something to protect the food.
“Here!” Jan pulled a newspaper from his coat pocket.
Krista spread the newspaper out and began cutting slices from a fresh loaf of bread. She put the cheese on the newspaper. “I will heat some stew. The coffee is almost ready. The percolator will stay warm on the top of the fire to keep hot.” She returned to the spirit stove she had set up on the floor of the garage.
Chapter 9
“I don’t think I have ever tasted anything so wonderful.” Gisele was dipping fresh bread into a bowl of stew.
“I have put a temporary wheel on your campervan.” The mechanic appeared in the doorway of the shack. “You will drive it into the garage. The words on the side must be removed.”
“What is wrong?” Jan demanded.
“That –” The mechanic looked at the women and bit back the curse on his lips. “Claus has been riding his bicycle past my gates.”
“He is a known informer,” Jan told them.
“I am going to drive to a garage that has the right tyres. I’ll lock the gates leading to the road when I leave. You must be very careful. They know two Englishers are here. No one else must be seen to put their nose outside.” The mechanic rubbed the bristles on his chin.
“When can we leave?” Perry looked at the worry on the faces of the two men.
“Not tonight – it is to happen here.” The mechanic was visibly distraught.
He left with Krista on his heels. She would drive the van into the large garage.
Gisele wiped her bowl clean with a hunk of bread, content to sit and listen.
“What is to happen?” Perry asked.
“I had hoped that saner minds would prevail.” Jan sighed. “There is a government-sanctioned order in place to remove Jews from our cities.”
“Good God! Can we not warn them?” Perry asked.
“Do you not think we have tried! My country,” he beat a clenched fist against his chest, “has become a world of fear. Neighbours are encouraged to spy on neighbour. Men and women disappear in the night, never to be seen again. We are being taught to hate.”
“I am sorry.” What else could Perry say? It would be hard for a man like Jan to stand and watch.
“I told you to leave.” Jan turned to glare at Perry. “But in truth I am happy you have returned. I had no way to get Gisele out of Germany. The Jews too ignored my warnings. They insisted this is their home. They have families, businesses. Any people who help the Jews are being warned. They will be shot down in the streets as warning to others not to interfere.” Jan had tried for months to encourage men he knew to flee with their families. His warnings had fallen on deaf ears – now it was too late.
“You can help no one if you are dead,” Gisele said softly.
Krista appeared in the doorway. “I have moved the van. A man on his bike has cycled past at least twice.”
“I need sleep.” Gisele tried to stand. “I am of no use if I am exhausted.”
“Come.” Jan hurried to her side. “I will help you back to your pallet. You will be able to sleep while we keep watch.”
Gisele accepted the help – she was at the end of her strength. “You should return to your home, Jan.”
“I will not leave until I see you safely away,” Jan objected.
“You are as stubborn as always.” Gisele walked slowly out of the hut into the main body of the garage.
“Let’s get the words off.” Perry followed the others out of the hut.
“The hose is here.” Krista wondered how Jan a
nd Gisele knew each other.
Perry held the hose and directed the water while Krista used a long-handled brush to wash the words away.
“Thank goodness for waterproof material.” Krista stood back, water beading on her clothing. “It was a blessing they used whitewash and not paint.”
They returned the garage to order and stood for a moment, wondering what they should do.
“You two should try to sleep,” Jan said. “I will keep watch.”
“I don’t think I could sleep.” Krista’s nerves were jangling.
“You must rest. If all goes well you will be driving through the early-morning hours towards the border,” Jan insisted.
The tyres had been changed. Darkness had fallen. Jan and the mechanic, who had stayed to protect his buildings from whatever was to come, paced the length of the garage. Krista and Perry were lying down inside the campervan, each unable to sleep but trying to rest. Gisele, hadn’t moved on her pallet.
“Come, you will bear witness.” A hand slapped the outside of the van.
They pushed out of their sleeping bags and stepped from the van.
“Jan is in the trees.” The mechanic, the hose in his hands, jerked his head towards the tall trees to the back of his property. “I must wet down my roof.”
“Dear God!” Krista ran towards the trees. The night was on fire. Great clouds of flame and black smoke streaked towards the sky.
“It is the Jewish quarter.” Jan’s voice came from the shadows when the pair had reached the copse of trees.
“It is madness.” Perry, the binoculars to his eyes, could see clearly what was happening below them. The flames lit the scene in colours of nightmare. “There are women and children down there.” He passed the glasses to Krista.
The sound of screaming and smashing glass reached them even here on this out-of-the-way piece of land at the edge of Essen.
Krista's Chance Page 7
