She fell silent, stung by the curt reply.
Sam sighed and looked up at her. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean how it came out.’
Elsa accepted his apology with a tilt of her head. It appeared he was out of practice too.
‘It was a good thing to bury them together.’
He winced at the memory. ‘I didn’t want wild animals...’
Silence descended again. The topic was too painful, the situation too sombre, their relationship too new, for conversation to flow freely.
‘I’m going to try to get some sleep,’ he said, settling down on the debris. He turned his back on her. ‘You should too.’
She lay down next to Klara and turned her back to him, hoping that sleep would rescue her from his company.
Sam’s voice, when he finally spoke again, had lost its earlier sharpness. ‘I thought they would want to be buried together.’
‘I think they would have too.’
‘But I think it was good for me, too.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘By burying them... praying over them... treating them with dignity... it made me feel...’ His voice faded a little and she wondered if he was going to say any more.
‘Made you feel what?’ she prompted.
‘Just feelsomething. There have been times that I’ve wondered if I was capable of feeling anything any more.’
Chapter Nine
Sam woke to find Elsa and Klara still asleep. He stood and opened the door a crack. The sound of warfare from the Eastern Front line swung precariously between rapid individual gunshots, daunting silences and the heavy bombardment of an unstoppable force. The distant battle had become the background noise to their journey, and although its advancement meant Germany was losing, he was grateful to hear that it had not come closer during the night.
The sun was low on the horizon. Early morning was a good time to start walking again. He turned to find the child had woken and was silently watching him. He smiled at her, then crossed his eyes. Although she did not smile back and her expression did not change, he fancied he saw the veil of wariness fall from her intense staring eyes... to reveal amusement. It was a small win. She was a sweet child and he had the urge to make her understand the ‘enemy’ were, on the whole, good people to know. He walked over to Elsa and gently nudged her awake. She unfurled her limbs, like the petals of a flower, stretched and slowly opened her eyes to stare up at him. One day, he thought, a man would be lucky enough to see her waking up like this every morning.
‘We should leave,’ he mumbled. He offered her his hand.
She ignored it and eased herself to standing.
‘Leave nothing behind,’ he added as he dragged his gaze away from her tousled hair. ‘I’ll hide the worn shoes under the sacking. Are you hungry?’
‘Yes.’ She self-consciously ran her fingers through her hair.
He watched her efforts, which only succeeded in making her wary of him... or embarrassed. He fought the urge to smile as she retreated. ‘Good... that you have an appetite. Let’sfind some breakfast. I’m starving.’ He looked at Klara. ‘Are you hungry?’
‘She doesn’t speak English,’ said Elsa.
‘She doesn’t seem to speak at all.’
‘Would you, if you were constantly in fear?’
Sam ignored her, turned to Klara and mimed eating. Klara gave him a slight smile and tentatively nodded. Elsa lifted her chin and pressed her lips together.
Her annoyance at their blossoming bond made him press the point home. ‘I think she likes me.’
‘She doesn’t know you,’ said Elsa as she briskly collected her things and prepared to leave.
They found breakfast later that morning, thanks to a young couple who were kind enough to share what they had on the outskirts of Pritzwalk. Sam stayed at a distance with Klara, concerned at the curious looks that were cast in his direction every now and then. Klara must have sensed his nervousness, as the child slipped her hand into his and left it there until Elsa returned. Elsa spoke to the couple at some length. Too long for his liking. Finally, she bid them goodbye and returned, carrying bread. As soon as she reached them, they began to walk away.
