Page 55 of The Storyteller of Krakow

‘There,’ Anka said. ‘See. I told you.’

He must have heard my boots on the metal, because he lifted his head.

He looked at me.

Animals don’t smile. I know that. But something shifted in his face, in the way he held himself. He let out a low sound, not loud enough to carry far.

‘All right,’ I said, before I could stop myself. ‘All right. I’m here. I’m sorry it’s been so long!’

Anka touched my sleeve. ‘I’ll leave you. Make sure he doesn’t eat you.’ She twinkled and then left.

I walked towards him slowly. He smelled the same: straw, damp fur and that musky scent that I really liked. I put my hand through the bars and stroked his back.

He then turned around properly and sniffed at my hand. ‘I’ve no food for you today.’

He grunted.

‘It’s not nice in here, is it?’ I asked. ‘Pretty dingy compared to what you’re used to.’

He yawned.

‘I get it. Not much to do but sleep and wait. It won’t be too much longer. We were supposed to arrive today, but the weather has slowed us. You can feel it, down here, can’t you? God, it’s made me sick, all this rocking about.’

He licked my hand, then moved it to his ear. He wanted ear scratches, and I duly obliged.

‘So,’ I said. ‘Italy.’

He blinked at me.

‘They say the Germans are dug in along the mountains. That it’ll be slow going.’ I shrugged. ‘They always say it’ll be slow going. And here’s you, a corporal, no less. You have a high rank. I mean, you outrank me. I need to take orders from you!’

He seemed to sort of grin as I scratched at a sweet spot for him.

‘I might be driving a first aid truck,’ I went on. ‘That’s what they said could happen. Transport. Casualty evacuation. But then, who knows? Could just be moving boxes about again. Not like you. You get to go into battle. Not that I want you to. I’d rather you stay somewhere safe. I don’t like the thought of you being near all those guns.’

He leaned heavily on my hand, so I switched ears and began the scratching process all over again.

‘I suppose I should be pleased, you know, for me,’ I said. ‘It’s important work. Driving. It is, isn’t it?’

He gave no response.

‘I went to see Noor. You know that mystic woman. She knew about you.’ I stopped scratching him and dug around under my shirt and pulled out the necklace I now wore, the coin with the bear on it.

He looked at it, then at me. I was sure he knew what it was.

‘She said I had to be a warrior. She said I would have an answer for how to do that. But I haven’t had one yet. Have you got an answer for me, Wojtek?’

He tilted his head, as if I’d said something curious but not alarming, then turned away from me and went to the far side of his crate and began to worry at something that was on the floor.

Then he turned back, material in his hands.

It was a jacket. A regulation uniform jacket, slightly creased, with one button hanging loose. He had it between his paws and started to chew at the cuff.

‘Leave it,’ I said, pulling it free.

He resisted for a second, then let go.

I held it up. It was heavy. Still smelled faintly of a man.