Page 80 of The Pianist's Wife
‘Clear,’ Fred whispered back, getting up and holding out a hand.
Because of the horrible weather and the blackouts, it was almost impossible to see anything, but in the moments when the clouds cleared slightly and the moon shone through, they were able to get their bearings.
We’re free. We’ve made it, we’ve actually made it!But the moment of exhilaration passed almost immediately as a shiver of fear ran through her. They might be outside of the camp, but it certainly didn’t mean they were free.
‘Is that a house up there?’ Amira asked, clinging to Fred’s hand as if her life depended on it while they walked. ‘I think it is, but—’
‘Yes, it is,’ he said. ‘Let’s head that way.’
The rain had eased but the wind was unbearably cold, and Amira found herself focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. The hand that wasn’t holding Fred’s was placed on her stomach, and she guessed that Fred was finding it as hard as she was to keep moving.
They were hungry. They were tired. They were cold. But nothing was going to stop them from walking step by step to the house ahead.
‘What do we do?’ Amira asked, her teeth chattering. ‘When we get there?’
‘We hide in a barn, if they have one, and we figure out the rest in the morning.’
‘But we’re so close to the camp, what if they come looking for us?’ she asked. ‘What if this is where they start their search?’
Fred was silent as they kept walking, her boots squelching with every step now. ‘All I could imagine was being safe and warm for the night,’ he said. ‘But you’re right. If they come looking, this might be the first place they look.’
‘So we should keep walking then?’ Amira asked, not knowing how many more steps she could possibly ask of her body.
‘No, we rest for a few hours, then at daybreak we move on. There’s no use us walking in the dark, having no idea where we’re going and using up all our energy.’
Amira agreed, but she was also scared. If the guards from Buchenwald came looking and found them there... She gulped. It might be a fate worse than death, especially if they’d already discovered the murder of one of their own.
It took them some time to reach the house they’d seen, having climbed two fences, and Fred still had hold of her hand as they edged their way around a brick structure that appeared to be an outbuilding of sorts. She was mildly terrified that it might contain animals that would take fright and call out in the night, alerting whoever was in the house, but when they went inside, it appeared to be empty, save for some hay stacked neatly near the back.
‘Let’s sit down here for a bit,’ Fred said, letting go of her as he moved a wheelbarrow and pulled some of the hay down for them to sit on. ‘You can rest and I’ll stay awake.’
‘We can both stay awake,’ she said, lowering herself beside him, pressing against him for warmth. ‘I don’t need to sleep.’
‘No, you rest. For the baby,’ he said.
And although she thought she’d never fall asleep, her ears straining for any sound, her eyes wide, they slowly began to close as Fred’s arm went around her and she nestled into the enclave of his shoulder.
When Amira opened her eyes, first light was beginning to filter in through the open door of the building. She saw Fred standing there, looking out at the farm, and then she slowly looked around and noticed that the shed was full of not only hay, but all sorts of farm equipment.
‘Morning,’ she said, her voice creaky as she pushed up to her feet.
Amira placed a hand to her back to support herself, ambling over to stand beside Fred. ‘Good morning,’ he said, moving aside slightly so she could join him.
‘Did you get any sleep?’ she asked.
‘No, not a wink.’ Fred yawned and ran a hand over his face. ‘What I wouldn’t give for a cup of coffee.’
‘There’s been no movement inside the house?’ she asked.
‘No, but it’s only early. The farmer might be out soon, but then again, the farmer might be away fighting. It might only be his wife at home.’
‘Fred,’ she said, placing a hand on his shoulder as he peered out. ‘There’s a bicycle there, leaning against the side of the house.’
Fred followed her finger, and she saw his jaw harden, as if he were considering whether to steal it.
‘If we get caught taking the bicycle, we might draw attention to ourselves,’ he said.
‘If we stay here, we might be caught by breakfast time,’ she mused out loud.
