She looked at him with terror in her eyes. “The Germans have been given orders to remove people,” she whispered. “People they believe have gone underground. Jews. Deviants. Communists.” She spat out the lastthree words. “They’ve been given new lists of names. But if you’re not in one of those categories, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” There was a clear value judgment in the final sentence, and Sven was relieved when she scurried away.
He quickly crossed the square, making for the station. Should he really be traveling now? Then he saw a familiar face—the soldier who had given him a ride on that first day. He had a list in his hand and wore a troubled expression. He spotted Sven at the same moment.
“Good evening.” The German soldier glanced over his shoulder before coming over to Sven. The troubled expression gave way to something more like resignation. Sven couldn’t work out what was going on in his mind, or what was on the list. For a second he was afraid that the soldier knew everything about him.
“Good evening,” Sven replied.
“It’s been a while. My name is Max, if you remember me?”
Sven took off his hat. “Of course I do. Thanks again for the ride.” Sven didn’t smile but he spoke politely, trying to keep his voice steady.
“You were at Château de Chênes, weren’t you?”
“That’s right.”
“Have you been there all along?”
“I have.”
“I understand.” Max cleared his throat. “Have you seen anything of the son?”
“No, he hasn’t been around at all. He’s in Paris.”
“I see.” Max glanced over his shoulder again, as if to make sure that no one was listening. Then he took a step closer to Sven, looked him in the eye, and lowered his voice. “Listen to me, and listen carefully. Some members of the Gestapo will soon be going to the vineyard to check out the rumors we’ve heard about him. His name has been on our lists for a long time, and now they’re determined to go and conduct a thorough search.”
Sven nodded but didn’t say anything.
“They’ll be leaving in about twenty minutes.” The German nodded toward a group of armed soldiers. “I might be able to delay them for another ten minutes.”
Sven looked at him with gratitude to show that he had understood the warning, that he realized what a risk Max had taken.
Then he walked quickly across the square, turned the corner, and slipped into the shadow of the buildings. He continued out onto the road, back the way he had come. His shirt was sticking to his body. His suitcase felt heavy, but he kept going. Only when he was out of sight of the square and the village did he dare to speed up, and after a couple of minutes, he broke into a run. He hurled his case into the ditch so he could run faster, lengthening his stride. He ran so fast that he was gasping for breath. He had to get there before the Germans.
The distant sound of an engine made him slow down. Could he jump into the ditch, hide among the trees? But then he was dazzled by a car’s headlights, his own figure casting long shadows on the road behind him. They’d seen him. Definitely. It was too late now. He should have picked up the sound earlier, but it was as if his panic and all his turbulent emotions had canceled out his senses.
He slowed down, ambled along as if he were out for an ordinary evening stroll.
Please let them drive past. Please let them drive past.
When the car continued at the same speed, Sven exhaled. It drove past him, then stopped after a few yards. Reversed. Sven stopped too.
“In a hurry?” Two German soldiers looked out of the window.
“Your papers. ID,” said the soldier in the passenger seat.
Sven swallowed hard, took the documents out of his inside pocket. They were damp with sweat. He handed them over, and the German took them between his thumb and forefinger. Unfolded the papers, checked everything. Showed the driver.
“Jump in, we’ll take you to the village. We need to ask you a few questions.”
Sven thought about the buses he’d seen in the square. Thought about Mathieu. He wasn’t going to make it in time.He wasn’t going to make it in time.Were the Germans already there?
He didn’t know.
Would he ever find out?
As he got into the car and it set off toward the village, he felt as if he was headed straight for the notorious labor camps.
Mathieu was still in Sven’s room. His parents had come up, seen him, and immediately realized what had happened. He had twisted free of their consoling hands, brushed aside their soothing words, then run down the stairs to look for Sven. What if something happened to him? But Mom and Dad had persuaded him to stay. Mathieu’s presence out on the roads and in the village would cause all kinds of problems.
