A CHANGE OF PLAN

There were roof tiles littered about the pavement, dislodged by the bombing, but it was the flames that everyone was watching.

An orange halo had risen over the rooftops, flickering and crackling as the fires burned the buildings just a few streets away. The stink of it was thick in the air and sparks rose into the sky, dancing in the breeze like the last fizz of fireworks. The shape of the church tower rose among them, lighting up and then darkening again before glowing once more as the stone reflected the light from the blaze.

It was almost impossible to believe it was happening. Right here in town, buildings were bombed and burning. Probably people dead or trapped in their cellars.

‘We were lucky,’ Lisa said. ‘Just think, we might have been …’ her words trailed away and I turned to look at her.

The glow from the fires sparkled in her eyes. She had never looked so pretty.

‘It’s beautiful,’ she said.

‘Yes it is,’ I replied, because it was. It was beautiful and terrible at the same time. The flares and searchlights and embers and flames came together in the night in a magical display, but beneath it all was the horror of what it really was.

‘We were so lucky,’ she said again and I felt her fingers touch mine.

I glanced down at Lisa’s hand, seeing how it waited for me to hold it in my own, so I took it and looked at her, our eyes meeting for the briefest moment before we turned our faces to the rooftops and the display that shimmered over them.

In those seconds it felt as if we were alone in the street, just Lisa and me, then I heard Opa’s voice close by.

‘Is that Feldstrasse?’ he said to no one in particular. ‘That looks like it might be Feldstrasse.’

With that, it was as if Lisa and I remembered where we were and we released each other’s hand as if it had suddenly grown hot.

‘Maybe they need help,’ suggested a voice, and I turned to see Herr Ackerman, the butcher, standing close by. ‘We should go over there.’ He looked at Opa, waiting for an answer.

Opa nodded once. ‘You’re right.’

‘Can I come?’ I asked.

‘Of course not,’ Mama said. ‘It’ll be too dangerous.’

‘I’ll stay out of the way.’

‘You’re not going anywhere. And you shouldn’t be going either.’ Mama looked at Opa.

‘I know what you’re thinking,’ he said. ‘That I’m too old.’

‘No, Papa, it’s just—’

‘Well, the young men aren’t here, are they?’ he said, standing straight. ‘Too busy fighting. So the old ones will have to be good enough. And I’ll never be too old to help.’

‘I’ll come.’ One of the other older men stepped up beside him, and soon there was something of a hubbub as the men of Escherstrasse came forward, one by one, until there was quite a crowd of them standing in a group in the middle of the street. The women drifted together, forming another group, offering advice to the men as they began to organise themselves. There were a few children there, too, but their mothers kept them close.

The men agreed to bring buckets and tools, anything that might be needed to rescue survivors, then they hurried back to their houses to collect what they needed before setting out towards the flames.

‘Are we still going to do it?’ Lisa whispered. ‘Our plan?’

‘How can we? It’s too late now.’

‘No it’s not,’ she said. ‘It’s only just after midnight. There’s still plenty of time for everyone to get back to bed.’

I looked round at all the people, and at the men making their way down the street. ‘They could be out all night,’ I said.

‘Don’t worry about them,’ she nodded towards the group of men. ‘It’ll be the perfect time.’

‘But there’ll be people everywhere and—’

‘—and they’ll all be too busy to bother with us.’

It was a good point. With everything that was happening, who would even notice the two of us slipping past in the shadows?

‘All right,’ I said. ‘What time?’

‘Two o’clock. And don’t fall asleep.’

‘Two o’clock.’ I agreed

‘Did you get some?’ she asked, and I knew exactly what she meant.

‘Not yet. But I will.’

‘You better,’ she said. ‘It’s no good without it.’

Once the men had disappeared from sight, the women stayed in the street for a while longer, gossiping and tutting and shaking their heads before everything quietened down and they began to drift back to their homes.

‘I’ll see you later,’ I whispered to Lisa when Mama called me inside. ‘Two o’clock.’

I went back into the house and Mama closed the door behind me. I was on my way upstairs when I stopped. ‘I forgot my torch. Left it in the cellar.’

‘You don’t need it tonight,’ Mama said.

‘I like to have it,’ I told her. ‘Just in case.’

‘Just in case what?’

I shrugged.

‘All right, go on then. Be quick.’

As I went back downstairs, I put my hand into my pocket and held on to my torch to stop it from banging about and giving me away. I went straight to the cupboard under the stairs and pulled the door open before lifting the trapdoor to the cellar.

I braced myself and reached under the lip of the hatch to find the light switch.

Climbing down the steps, I could just about see the wonky shelf at the far end of the cellar. And there, right in the middle of it, was what I had come for.

A tin of white paint.