FRAU SCHMIDT

We went on to the school, which was deserted now except for a pair of magpies sitting on top of the air raid siren. They chattered at us as we approached, then flew off across the yard.

From there, I tried to retrace my way to the spot where Kriminalinspektor Wolff had bumped into me. It didn’t take us long to follow the route I’d taken, and it turned out I hadn’t even travelled very far. I recognised the street where the woman who’d helped me lived as soon as we came to it, but the houses were all in a row and looked identical.

‘We’ll knock on a few doors,’ Lisa suggested. ‘Someone will remember you.’

No one answered at the first house but, at the second, the woman recognised me right away. She directed us to number forty-three, just along the street.

Number forty-three was the woman who had brought me a damp cloth and a glass of water. She was called Frau Schmidt, and she let us into her house and offered us a glass of milk and a biscuit.

She ushered us into the kitchen and we sat at the table, both of us silent while she poured milk into two short glasses.

‘I was so frightened when I heard the crash,’ she said. ‘Such a loud bang, and when I came to the window and saw you on the road like that, I thought you were …’ she shuddered and brought the glasses to the table. ‘You’re very lucky you weren’t killed.’ She opened a tin, saying, ‘Help yourselves. I made them fresh this morning.’

Lisa didn’t hesitate. She dipped right into the tin and took a biscuit. When she bit into it, crumbs scattered everywhere.

‘I hope you didn’t get into too much trouble,’ said Frau Schmidt. ‘I know what that man can be like. He’s a …’ she stopped herself. ‘Anyway. I hope you’re all right. The injuries not too bad?’ She pushed the biscuit tin towards me.

‘Not too bad, thank you.’ I took a biscuit and had a small bite. It was plain and didn’t taste of much, but I was hungrier than I had thought. ‘Thank you for helping me,’ I said with my mouth full.

‘You’re welcome …’ she waited for me to tell her my name.

‘Karl,’ I said. ‘And this is Lisa.’

‘Well, I’m Frau Schmidt and it’s very nice to meet you both.’

‘Do you have any children?’ Lisa asked. ‘I might know them from school.’

Frau Schmidt shook her head. ‘My children are older now.’ She was staring over my shoulder as she spoke and when I turned around, I saw a collection of photographs on the sideboard. Three of them were pictures of men in uniform and were arranged in a line in front of the others.

‘Is that them?’ I asked. ‘Are they in the army?’

‘My son Joseph was killed last year in France. He’s the one in the middle. The other one is my younger son Max. He’s in Russia, fighting for Hitler.’

‘And the other man?’ I asked. ‘Is that your husband?’

Frau Schmidt sighed. ‘Yes. Another one I lost in France.’

When I looked back at Frau Schmidt, her eyes were glistening and there was something about her that reminded me of Mama.

‘My papa was killed,’ I said.

‘Oh, you poor boy.’ Frau Schmidt blinked hard. ‘And your poor mother. It gets better with time, but you never forget.’

‘I don’t want to forget.’ Since getting the news about Papa, Frau Schmidt was the first person I had spoken to who knew someone killed in the war. ‘Do you think they wanted to fight?’ I asked.

Frau Schmidt put a hand to her mouth and looked away as if she might be about to cry, so I glanced at the pictures once more and was drawn to one in particular.

It was a picture of a girl and two boys, holding guitars and standing in front of what looked like an orchard, but I didn’t look at their faces because something about one of the boys had caught my attention.

His badge. Pinned to the right side of his jacket, I noticed it straight away.

‘What’s that?’ I said, before I could stop myself. ‘There.’ I pointed. ‘What is that?’

Lisa leaned closer to see it, then looked at me. ‘It’s the same,’ she whispered.

‘What’s that flower?’ I asked, turning around, determined to know. ‘What does it mean? I’ve seen it painted on the walls.’

Frau Schmidt came over and took the photo from my hands. ‘It’s nothing. Just some silly thing Max made.’ She held the picture tight to her chest so we couldn’t see it any more.

‘And my brother had the same thing sewn into his jacket—’

‘Then you should ask your brother what it means.’ She returned the photograph to its place with the others and stood with her back to us, both hands on the sideboard.

‘I did. But he wouldn’t tell me. And the next thing I knew, he’d cut the flower off his pocket.’

Frau Schmidt turned around but seemed flustered. She glanced about the room as if she didn’t know what to say or where to look. ‘Then … then perhaps he doesn’t want you to know about it,’ she said eventually. ‘Perhaps he doesn’t trust you.’

Frau Schmidt might as well have slapped me hard across the face, and my guilty feelings rose to the surface. ‘I …’

‘And we have this.’ Lisa stepped forward to rescue me just like she did that day in Herr Finkel’s shop. She was holding out her hand, and in her palm was the carved wooden flower she had found. It was almost exactly the same as the one the boy in the photograph was wearing.

Frau Schmidt stared at it. ‘Where did you get that?’ She reached out as if to grab it, but then clutched her fingers tight and snatched her hand away.

‘One of his brother’s friends,’ she lied. ‘What is it? A daisy?’

Frau Schmidt looked at it for a long while. ‘An edelweiss,’ she whispered.

‘An edelweiss,’ I repeated, suddenly seeing it. Of course that’s what it was. ‘And what does it mean?’

She looked up at us as if deciding whether or not to tell us.

‘Please,’ I asked.

Frau Schmidt sighed and opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again and shook her head. ‘You’ll have to ask your brother. He’ll tell you if he wants you to know.’