Chapter Three - Escape
It was late when Katka left Miss Bozena’s study. All the other girls were already asleep and although Katka was tired she didn’t go to bed. Instead she went straight to the top of the building.
‘Well?’
‘Well what?’ Katka replied, closing the door to Jana’s room behind her.
‘Whose names did you give?’ Jana said. She didn’t seem surprised to see Katka. She was sitting on her bed with her back against the wall, just as she had been the first time Katka had come to her room, ‘You must have given someone’s name and as no one’s come to take me away, I’m assuming you didn’t give them mine.’
‘Of course I didn’t give them your name.’ Katka snapped.
And at this Jana smiled - broad, real - she moved over on her bed and gestured for Katka to sit next to her. ‘It wasn’t because I said I’d shoot you, was it?’
‘No -’ Katka replied awkwardly.
‘That was a joke, Katka. I’m not about to shoot anyone.’ Jana said and as Katka hesitantly sat down she took out a packet of cigarettes and offered one to Katka.
‘No.’ Katka said, ‘Thank you.’
‘At least now I know I can trust you.’ Jana said, striking a match and drawing on its yellow flame.
‘I’m not doing that again.’ Katka replied.
‘I’m not asking you to.’ Jana said, ‘Besides, I don’t think we can. The police will be watching now. They’ll be waiting.’
‘And what about Paul?’ Katka asked.
The mention of his name, it hung in the air for a moment like the smoke from Anna’s cigarette - foul, choking - Jana fanned it away with a frantic hand. ‘Paul’s dead.’ She said.
‘What? How do you know?’ Katka replied.
But instead of answering Jana got up from the bed and opened the window. An immediate rush of noise from outside - a passing car, the rumble of a city tram, an angry car horn. ‘Of course he’s dead. You heard a gunshot, didn’t you?’
‘But how do you know that?’
Jana shrugged, blew smoke out of the window, ‘What did they tell you downstairs?’
‘How did you know I heard a gunshot?’ Katka persisted, louder, more firm this time. She sat up so that she could face Jana directly.
‘Everybody knows. We all know. The matrons talk, you know that.’ Jana said and then she took a final drag of her cigarette and flicked it from the window - only half smoked - ‘We all heard you ran away too.’
‘I did not!’
‘I know.’ Jana said quickly, cutting Katka off. She came back to the bed and sat down, We all know. It’s just lies. More lies. Of course they told us what had happened and they made you out to be the baddie. Isn’t that what they always do?’
‘I had no choice, I didn’t know -’
Jana put a hand on Katka’s shoulder, ‘There was nothing you could do. Anyone would have done the same if it had happened to them.’
‘I just feel bad because of Paul, that’s all.’ Katka said.
A pause for thought then. It must have been cold in the room because Jana rubbed her bare arms, she pulled her knees up against her chest. ‘There’s a place they take them to. Just a field outside the city. A mound of earth with these wooden posts in front of it. You can hear the rifles being fired from a long way off.’
‘Rifles?’ Katka asked, ‘What are you talking about?’ and for a moment she was genuinely confused, but when Jana went on she began to understand.
‘They take everyone there, to a place called Kobylisy, anyone they don’t like or causes them trouble. They tie their hands behind their backs and stand them against the posts and then they -’
‘Stop!’ Katka said, ‘How can you say that?’
‘It’s just the way it is.’ Jana said.
But Katka had heard enough. She felt sick. The room had begun to spin. She too had seen the place. She had seen pictures in the morning papers - resistance fighters lined up so they could be executed by firing squad. And it was true what Miss Bozena had said, they would make an example of Paul. There would be pictures in the papers, just like there always were - bodies spread ungainly on the ground in death, there would be blood -
‘Katka, you hardly knew him.’ Jana said.
Katka stood up. She was suddenly angry. She saw a hair brush on the cabinet beside Jana’s bed and she wanted to pick it up, hurl it through the window-glass. She wanted to upturn the bed Jana sat on, smash everything in the room -
‘So who’s name did you give?’ Jana asked again, interrupting Katka’s thoughts, and it annoyed Katka even more that Jana could change the subject so flippantly.
‘What difference does it make?’ Katka spat back.
‘Who’s name?’
‘No one’s name, I said it was all me.’ Katka said.
‘I thought so.’ Jana replied and she looked down at her hands for a second. Then, looking up, and in a quiet voice, she said, ‘You have to go, Katka.’
‘What?’ Katka wasn’t sure what she had heard, ‘Why?’
‘You have to leave. Tonight, if you can.’
‘But why?’
‘Because they’ll be back. The police, when they file their report. You could have blamed me, you could have given them someone’s name, even Paul’s would have been better - he’s going to die anyway - but you gave them your own.’
Katka swallowed. She watched as Jana got up from the bed and stepped towards her. ‘Everyone’s proud of you, Katka. What you did was very noble, but they’ll take your word and think that you thought the whole thing up yourself. They’ll make a report and say that you were part of the resistance, that you were raising money for them. They’re going to kill you, Katka.’
Katka laughed - uncertain, noiseless - she wanted to say something in reply, to disagree with Jana, to prove what she had just said was wrong. But she could think of nothing at all and she couldn’t listen to any more to what Jana was saying - because even though she continued to talk her voice was just a noise, a face with a moving mouth. ‘Shut up! Just shut up!’ She shouted, pushing Jana away with both hands.
Something happened then. A noise from outside caused both girls to look towards the window.
‘What was that?’ Jana said.
The slam of a car door - jack-boots feet on gravel drive below.
Jana shot a glance at Katka, then ran to the window.
‘What is it?’ Katka asked.
‘They’re here.’ Jana said.
‘Already?’ Katka ran to the window. Below were five, perhaps six soldiers in grey uniforms. A black truck with its engine running. The soldiers filed quickly inside the building, leaving one standing guard outside.
‘Katka, come on! Let’s go!’ Jana said and together they ran for the door. But in the corridor they sound of footsteps on the stairs made them turn back.
‘The ledge,’ Jana panted, leading the way back to the window. And in one fluid movement she jumped up onto the sill and climbed outside.
Katka tried to follow, but her heart almost leapt from her mouth at the sight of the thin ledge, the abrupt drop - four, five storeys down - it was Jana who spurned her on.
‘Move!’ She shouted.
Katka climbed out, tried not to look down, tried to cling with toes and the tips of her fingers as she made her way carefully, but as quickly as she could, behind Jana.
At the corner of the building was the flat roof of the kitchen, it was one storey below the ledge. Katka copied Jana as she jumped down - dropping onto all fours and rolling forward - but she landed awkwardly on her knee and the fabric of her trousers tore, blood mixing immediately with the grit of the rooftop.
‘Are you alright?’ Jana asked. But there was no time to cry out, to nurse her wound. The sound of soldiers in the room they had just escaped from - heavy boots on floorboards, furniture being upturned, frustrated shouts as they failed to find her - it forced them on.
They took the drainpipe on the side of the kitchen to get to ground level. And they would have been free then, out into the street and away into the myriad of little alleys and unlit parks that made up the city. But the soldier who had been guarding the army truck must have heard them come down. His outline appeared in the light from in front of the building - he raised his rifle.
‘Halt!’ He screamed.
‘Quick!’ Jana shouted, ducking through a hedge. She led the way over a wall and out into the street.
A crack of rifle fire. Something fizzed over Katka’s head. She ducked, still running, then heard more shouts as the soldiers inside realised what was happening and gave chase.
But Katka and Jana were fast. They ran without looking back, fear chasing at their heels - through narrow lanes, gardens, and they didn’t stop until they were far enough from the home that no one could have followed them.
And then Katka realised what they’d done.
‘What do we do now?’ She said, asking herself as much as Jana, who had her hands on her hips and was bent forwards trying to regain herself after the exertion of the chase.
‘Now you have to hide.’ Jana replied, between gulps for air.
‘But where?’ Katka said. They had run almost all the way to the meeting place from last night and from where they stood, at the edge of a park that overlooked the city - a place that had once been a viewing spot, a place of beauty but was now just a broken bench and some litter - Katka could see the entire city spread out before her. ‘Nowhere’s safe.’ She muttered.
Jana nodded but didn’t reply.
‘I don’t know where to go.’ Katka said, and she couldn’t help but sound scared, couldn’t help but feel like a little girl - afraid, helpless, completely alone with a vast unfriendly world against her.
‘Home.’ Jana said eventually, ‘Just go home.’
Katka shook her head, ‘No.’ She said, ‘I can’t.’
‘Then you’ll have to surrender yourself to the Germans.’ Jana told her, straightening up and turning and gesturing in the direction they had run from. ‘If you can’t go home, you’ll have to let them shoot you.’ And without the need to say anything more she turned and began to walk away.
‘Where are you going?’ Katka called after her.
‘I’m sorry.’ Jana replied, stopping suddenly as if realising she had forgotten something, ‘You’re on your own now, Katka. I can’t help you any more.’ And she came back to where Katka was standing and embraced her, held her tight for a moment, then gripped both her hands in hers.
‘But where -’ Katka began to ask again, her voice weak, almost tearful.
‘Just go home.’ Jana repeated and then she walked away, not stopping this time.
Katka watched her go. And when she was out of sight completely she realised there was something in her hand. She looked down and saw that it was the roll of notes from last night. Jana must have slipped into her palm.
‘Well?’
‘Well what?’ Katka replied, closing the door to Jana’s room behind her.
‘Whose names did you give?’ Jana said. She didn’t seem surprised to see Katka. She was sitting on her bed with her back against the wall, just as she had been the first time Katka had come to her room, ‘You must have given someone’s name and as no one’s come to take me away, I’m assuming you didn’t give them mine.’
‘Of course I didn’t give them your name.’ Katka snapped.
And at this Jana smiled - broad, real - she moved over on her bed and gestured for Katka to sit next to her. ‘It wasn’t because I said I’d shoot you, was it?’
‘No -’ Katka replied awkwardly.
‘That was a joke, Katka. I’m not about to shoot anyone.’ Jana said and as Katka hesitantly sat down she took out a packet of cigarettes and offered one to Katka.
‘No.’ Katka said, ‘Thank you.’
‘At least now I know I can trust you.’ Jana said, striking a match and drawing on its yellow flame.
‘I’m not doing that again.’ Katka replied.
‘I’m not asking you to.’ Jana said, ‘Besides, I don’t think we can. The police will be watching now. They’ll be waiting.’
‘And what about Paul?’ Katka asked.
The mention of his name, it hung in the air for a moment like the smoke from Anna’s cigarette - foul, choking - Jana fanned it away with a frantic hand. ‘Paul’s dead.’ She said.
‘What? How do you know?’ Katka replied.
But instead of answering Jana got up from the bed and opened the window. An immediate rush of noise from outside - a passing car, the rumble of a city tram, an angry car horn. ‘Of course he’s dead. You heard a gunshot, didn’t you?’
‘But how do you know that?’
Jana shrugged, blew smoke out of the window, ‘What did they tell you downstairs?’
‘How did you know I heard a gunshot?’ Katka persisted, louder, more firm this time. She sat up so that she could face Jana directly.
‘Everybody knows. We all know. The matrons talk, you know that.’ Jana said and then she took a final drag of her cigarette and flicked it from the window - only half smoked - ‘We all heard you ran away too.’
‘I did not!’
‘I know.’ Jana said quickly, cutting Katka off. She came back to the bed and sat down, We all know. It’s just lies. More lies. Of course they told us what had happened and they made you out to be the baddie. Isn’t that what they always do?’
‘I had no choice, I didn’t know -’
Jana put a hand on Katka’s shoulder, ‘There was nothing you could do. Anyone would have done the same if it had happened to them.’
‘I just feel bad because of Paul, that’s all.’ Katka said.
A pause for thought then. It must have been cold in the room because Jana rubbed her bare arms, she pulled her knees up against her chest. ‘There’s a place they take them to. Just a field outside the city. A mound of earth with these wooden posts in front of it. You can hear the rifles being fired from a long way off.’
‘Rifles?’ Katka asked, ‘What are you talking about?’ and for a moment she was genuinely confused, but when Jana went on she began to understand.
‘They take everyone there, to a place called Kobylisy, anyone they don’t like or causes them trouble. They tie their hands behind their backs and stand them against the posts and then they -’
‘Stop!’ Katka said, ‘How can you say that?’
‘It’s just the way it is.’ Jana said.
But Katka had heard enough. She felt sick. The room had begun to spin. She too had seen the place. She had seen pictures in the morning papers - resistance fighters lined up so they could be executed by firing squad. And it was true what Miss Bozena had said, they would make an example of Paul. There would be pictures in the papers, just like there always were - bodies spread ungainly on the ground in death, there would be blood -
‘Katka, you hardly knew him.’ Jana said.
Katka stood up. She was suddenly angry. She saw a hair brush on the cabinet beside Jana’s bed and she wanted to pick it up, hurl it through the window-glass. She wanted to upturn the bed Jana sat on, smash everything in the room -
‘So who’s name did you give?’ Jana asked again, interrupting Katka’s thoughts, and it annoyed Katka even more that Jana could change the subject so flippantly.
‘What difference does it make?’ Katka spat back.
‘Who’s name?’
‘No one’s name, I said it was all me.’ Katka said.
‘I thought so.’ Jana replied and she looked down at her hands for a second. Then, looking up, and in a quiet voice, she said, ‘You have to go, Katka.’
‘What?’ Katka wasn’t sure what she had heard, ‘Why?’
‘You have to leave. Tonight, if you can.’
‘But why?’
‘Because they’ll be back. The police, when they file their report. You could have blamed me, you could have given them someone’s name, even Paul’s would have been better - he’s going to die anyway - but you gave them your own.’
Katka swallowed. She watched as Jana got up from the bed and stepped towards her. ‘Everyone’s proud of you, Katka. What you did was very noble, but they’ll take your word and think that you thought the whole thing up yourself. They’ll make a report and say that you were part of the resistance, that you were raising money for them. They’re going to kill you, Katka.’
Katka laughed - uncertain, noiseless - she wanted to say something in reply, to disagree with Jana, to prove what she had just said was wrong. But she could think of nothing at all and she couldn’t listen to any more to what Jana was saying - because even though she continued to talk her voice was just a noise, a face with a moving mouth. ‘Shut up! Just shut up!’ She shouted, pushing Jana away with both hands.
Something happened then. A noise from outside caused both girls to look towards the window.
‘What was that?’ Jana said.
The slam of a car door - jack-boots feet on gravel drive below.
Jana shot a glance at Katka, then ran to the window.
‘What is it?’ Katka asked.
‘They’re here.’ Jana said.
‘Already?’ Katka ran to the window. Below were five, perhaps six soldiers in grey uniforms. A black truck with its engine running. The soldiers filed quickly inside the building, leaving one standing guard outside.
‘Katka, come on! Let’s go!’ Jana said and together they ran for the door. But in the corridor they sound of footsteps on the stairs made them turn back.
‘The ledge,’ Jana panted, leading the way back to the window. And in one fluid movement she jumped up onto the sill and climbed outside.
Katka tried to follow, but her heart almost leapt from her mouth at the sight of the thin ledge, the abrupt drop - four, five storeys down - it was Jana who spurned her on.
‘Move!’ She shouted.
Katka climbed out, tried not to look down, tried to cling with toes and the tips of her fingers as she made her way carefully, but as quickly as she could, behind Jana.
At the corner of the building was the flat roof of the kitchen, it was one storey below the ledge. Katka copied Jana as she jumped down - dropping onto all fours and rolling forward - but she landed awkwardly on her knee and the fabric of her trousers tore, blood mixing immediately with the grit of the rooftop.
‘Are you alright?’ Jana asked. But there was no time to cry out, to nurse her wound. The sound of soldiers in the room they had just escaped from - heavy boots on floorboards, furniture being upturned, frustrated shouts as they failed to find her - it forced them on.
They took the drainpipe on the side of the kitchen to get to ground level. And they would have been free then, out into the street and away into the myriad of little alleys and unlit parks that made up the city. But the soldier who had been guarding the army truck must have heard them come down. His outline appeared in the light from in front of the building - he raised his rifle.
‘Halt!’ He screamed.
‘Quick!’ Jana shouted, ducking through a hedge. She led the way over a wall and out into the street.
A crack of rifle fire. Something fizzed over Katka’s head. She ducked, still running, then heard more shouts as the soldiers inside realised what was happening and gave chase.
But Katka and Jana were fast. They ran without looking back, fear chasing at their heels - through narrow lanes, gardens, and they didn’t stop until they were far enough from the home that no one could have followed them.
And then Katka realised what they’d done.
‘What do we do now?’ She said, asking herself as much as Jana, who had her hands on her hips and was bent forwards trying to regain herself after the exertion of the chase.
‘Now you have to hide.’ Jana replied, between gulps for air.
‘But where?’ Katka said. They had run almost all the way to the meeting place from last night and from where they stood, at the edge of a park that overlooked the city - a place that had once been a viewing spot, a place of beauty but was now just a broken bench and some litter - Katka could see the entire city spread out before her. ‘Nowhere’s safe.’ She muttered.
Jana nodded but didn’t reply.
‘I don’t know where to go.’ Katka said, and she couldn’t help but sound scared, couldn’t help but feel like a little girl - afraid, helpless, completely alone with a vast unfriendly world against her.
‘Home.’ Jana said eventually, ‘Just go home.’
Katka shook her head, ‘No.’ She said, ‘I can’t.’
‘Then you’ll have to surrender yourself to the Germans.’ Jana told her, straightening up and turning and gesturing in the direction they had run from. ‘If you can’t go home, you’ll have to let them shoot you.’ And without the need to say anything more she turned and began to walk away.
‘Where are you going?’ Katka called after her.
‘I’m sorry.’ Jana replied, stopping suddenly as if realising she had forgotten something, ‘You’re on your own now, Katka. I can’t help you any more.’ And she came back to where Katka was standing and embraced her, held her tight for a moment, then gripped both her hands in hers.
‘But where -’ Katka began to ask again, her voice weak, almost tearful.
‘Just go home.’ Jana repeated and then she walked away, not stopping this time.
Katka watched her go. And when she was out of sight completely she realised there was something in her hand. She looked down and saw that it was the roll of notes from last night. Jana must have slipped into her palm.