‘You can answer questions. That is not so hard.’
‘Do you have any questions?’
‘I have lots about you.’
‘About me?’
She nodded.
Sam’s quiet acceptance spurred her on.
‘I want to know everything about you.’
‘Why?’
Elsa guiltily wondered if she was more interested in Sam because she had cut his hair and beard to reveal the handsome man beneath. The sight had momentarily stolen her breath away.
‘Because it will pass the time.’ She asked her first question before he could stop her. ‘Had you walked far before we met?’
‘Why do you want to know that?’
‘So I can hand you over to the Gestapo,’ she teased. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him hide a smile. ‘You don’t believe I would?’
‘Once, maybe. But not now.’
She found herself drowning in the depth of his gaze. It was a reckless, delicious feeling she had never experienced before. She blinked, turned away and feigned a sudden interest in the horizon.
‘You never answered my question, Elsa.’
She attempted a shrug, ‘I thought I was asking the questions.’
‘I didn’t agree to that.’
She pulled at a long, swaying stem by the side of the track and teased its seeds free. ‘I know so little about you. I think I would like to know more.’ She spoke to Klara in German and Klara replied. She gave him a sideways glance. ‘Klara agrees. She wants to know more about you.’
Sam looked at Klara, who smiled back at him. ‘There isn’t much to tell.’
Elsa raised her eyebrows and spoke to Klara again, who replied straight away. ‘Klara says we could trade information. You answer our questions and I’ll answer yours.’
Sam considered her offer for so long that she nudged him in case his mind had wandered elsewhere.
‘Okay. Okay. You are both very persistent. Has anyone ever told you that?’
‘Persistent?’
‘It means that you don’t give up easily.’
She smiled proudly. ‘Yes, many people.’
‘Your English is good. Where did you learn it?’
‘At school. When I was twelve, the Nazis won the elections and soon after that English replaced French as the main foreign language. It was considered more . . .’ Her voice trailed away to a whisper. ‘Aryan.’ Her education and profession as a teacher flashed before her eyes, sapping her happiness in one sinister wave. For the first time she acknowledged how profoundly thecurriculum had changed during her childhood, from normality to the idolization of Hitler and demonization of the Jewish people. The teachers who had tried to continue in the old ways had not remained in their jobs for long. As a student, she hadn’t been fully aware of this. As a teacher it was difficult to miss. How had she managed to stay?Because you went along with it!a voice screamed in her head. She threw the grass stem away, as if by doing so she was tossing her dark thoughts away too. ‘Later, I secretly listened to the Empire Service. At first it was because I wanted to speak English more fluently, but I became intrigued by how different they were to our own broadcasts. When war broke out it became a treasonable offence to listen to outside broadcasts, so I stopped.’
‘Didn’t you wonder why they wanted you to stop listening?’
‘Because they were the enemy,’ she replied, surprised by his question.
His silence was condemnation of her easy acceptance and she felt the heat of humiliation rise to her face. She decided to change the subject. ‘What type of work did you do... before all this?’
