Page 79 of The Pianist's Wife
Amira lifted her face to the sky and felt the rain falling. She hoped Hans was right and that there wouldn’t be other guards sitting in the backs of the trucks.
‘But what about when we reach Weimar? What then?’
‘You won’t reach Weimar, because you’ll jump off the back well before then. It will be pitch-black darkness, and the men up frontwon’t notice. So long as you jump quickly and roll away, you’ll be fine.’
‘Hans—’ Amira began.
‘There’s no time to talk, you need to move,’ he said, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze before reaching into his breast pocket. ‘But you need to take this for me, and you have to make sure it reaches Gisele.’
‘Aren’t you going home soon? Why can’t you give it to her yourself?’
She tucked it quickly into her own pocket to ensure it stayed dry, hoping her wet fingers hadn’t already smudged it. Her face was slick with rain, and she knew that if they didn’t get moving soon, they’d be sodden – as would the letter he’d just given her.
‘Please, stay with her while she reads it. I don’t want her to be alone.’
‘What do you—’
‘Go! You need to go now or you’ll miss the last of the trucks. Don’t let this all be for nothing.’
‘Come on,’ Fred said, grabbing hold of her hand to pull her along with him.
‘Thank you,’ Amira said. ‘Thank you, Hans. I’ll never forget this.’
He nodded, his mouth drawn tight as if he didn’t know what to say.
‘We have to go,’ Fred said, tugging her. ‘I’m not getting stuck here.’
‘Just tell Gisele,’ Hans said as they moved away from him. ‘Tell her there’s nothing she can do. By the time she reads it, it will already be done. It’s imperative that you give it to her.’
His voice was sombre, the pain palpable, but there was no time to talk any longer. Fred was right; they’d come this far. If they didn’t escape now, they’d never have another chance, and the longer ittook the more likely it was that a guard would notice they’d gone. Or that someone would come looking for the other guard, or for Hans.
‘I killed a man,’ Fred muttered as they walked. ‘I killed someone.’
She wanted to hold his hand or put her arms around him to comfort him, but they were supposed to be guards. They had to walk tall, with confidence, in case the light swept over them. They had to do everything within their power not to draw attention to themselves.
‘If you hadn’t killed him first...’ Amira began.
But their conversation was over when they saw a lorry rolling slowly towards the gates. And despite the large boots on her feet, Amira began to run as Fred called out to the driver.
‘Warten!’ he called. ‘Wait! We are coming too!’
‘To Weimar?’ the driver called back, peering out at them, shouting through the weather. His window was down, but she imagined in the dark, with the rain steadily hitting the windscreen, that it would be almost impossible for him to see them at all.
‘Yes,’ Fred said, as the truck rumbled to an almost stop.
He jumped up into the wooden-decked back and held his hand out for her, and by some miracle, despite her pregnancy, she managed to clamber up beside him without falling. The gates opened then and the truck rolled through, and the two of them, completely concealed by darkness, as tears rolled steadily down Amira’s cheeks, stared back at the lights from the watchtower as they left the camp behind.
But as elated as she was at the thought that they were almost free, that they’d almost done the impossible, she couldn’t help but consider what would happen to Hans, especially with his letter burning a hole in her pocket.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
‘We’re going to jump the first time the truck slows,’ Fred said, his voice low, speaking directly into her ear. ‘We jump, then roll to the side and lie flat on the ground.’
Amira had one hand pressed firmly to her stomach, feeling unwell but not about to complain given the circumstances. She was worried about the jump, but she was far more worried about being caught and sent back to the camp, which meant she was inclined to trust that she could do whatever was necessary.
The truck rumbled along, but just as Fred had expected it suddenly slowed, and after listening out to ensure that it wasn’t a blockade, his eyes flashed at her in the darkness and he leapt from the back of the truck. Amira took a deep breath and did the same, doing her best to jump straight and land on her feet. She instead landed awkwardly, the weight particularly painful on one ankle, but Fred had partially broken her fall by helping to catch her, and they rolled sideways and lay flat to the grass, the only noise their ragged breathing, their bodies side by side.
‘Are we clear?’ Amira asked, a few minutes after the truck had gone, the ground no longer vibrating.
