The sound of someone tapping on the window made her look up. She saw a spiky-haired boy, not tall enough for his chin to appear above the sill. Kitty went to the door and unlocked it. No passes were handed out on Sundays. Probably the boy was just up to mischief. She peered around the corner of the building to where the boy was standing.
“Czy mog? z pani? porozmawia??” Please, miss, can I talk to you?
He came toward her, his eyes round and earnest. He didn’t look as if he had mischief on his mind. She let him in and pointed to the chair on the other side of the desk. When he sat back in it, his legs didn’t reach the floor.
His face was unfamiliar. There were dozens of children coming to her English classes—but she didn’t recognize this boy. She asked him his name.
“Edek Dijak,” he replied.
“O czym chcesz ze mn? porozmawia??” What do you want to talk to me about?
“Musz? znale?? mojego ojca.” I have to find my father.
Kitty listened as Edek told her about the conversation he’d had with one of the new arrivals. He said that this man—who came from the same village as his family—had seen his father. He’d spotted him when the train had been held up in Munich and the passengers had been allowed out to stretch their legs.
Kitty asked the boy how he could be sure the man was right. He replied that his father had a distinctive scar on his face, below the left eye, from an accident on the farm where he’d worked before the war. Then he took something from the pocket of his trousers—a folded slip of paper, which he pushed across the desk.
Kitty saw the words “Zone Fran?ais” stamped in red across one corner. The document was a record of the transfer to Seidenmühle of two women from a DP camp in the French zone of Germany. It was dated June 18, 1945—the week before Kitty and the others had arrived at the camp. Under “Reason for Transfer,” it said, “Request from Edek Dijak, son/brother of above.”
Kitty looked up, puzzled. “Znalaz?e? ich?” You found them?
He nodded. “Na rowerze.” On my bicycle.
Kitty listened, incredulous, as he described how he had traded a gun he found in the woods for a pedal bike. He’d tracked down his mother and sister by riding from camp to camp, living on carrots and strawberries stolen from German farms. He struck his chest with the flat of his hand, saying that he’d often felt tired and hungry, but he’d made himself keep going because he knew in his heart that his family was not dead.
He pulled something else from his pocket and handed it across to her. It was a photo of his father, smiling out from a sunny field stacked with bales of hay. Tears pricked Kitty’s eyes as the boy described how he used to help his dad with the harvest. He said the picture had been taken just a few weeks before the Germans invaded. Having found his mother and sister, he was convinced he could now find his father.
“Ile masz lat, Edek?” How old are you, Edek?
He hesitated. She told him that he must tell her the truth—that she could look in the files and check his age if she wanted to.
“Dwana?cie.” Twelve.
It took every ounce of self-control for Kitty to tell him that she would have to check before a pass could be issued, that she couldn’t allow him to set off on his bicycle this time. She told him she would arrange for him to travel by army transport to Munich and organize help from the Red Cross when he reached the city.
When he’d gone, she locked the office door behind her and went in search of Martha. She wasn’t sure where she’d be. Most mornings she was up and off before Kitty and Delphine were awake. The stable block was the likeliest place.
But Martha wasn’t at the stables. No one Kitty asked had seen Martha since the previous day.
As Kitty made her way back past the warehouse, she spotted Delphine. She had her head down and her shoulders were hunched. She looked as if she were trying to make herself invisible.
“Delphine!”
At the sound of her name, Delphine looked up. There was a bewildered expression on her face, like someone disturbed in the middle of a daydream.
“Kitty.” A smile transformed her face. “Sorry. I didn’t see you.”
“Have you seen Martha?”
“Not this morning. Have you been to the stables?”
Kitty nodded. “I forgot it’s Sunday—there’s no one working.”
“Hmm.” Delphine pursed her lips. “What did you want her for?”
“A boy came to the office. He’s only twelve. He wanted to go to Munich on a bicycle to find his father. He showed me a photo of . . .” Suddenly she couldn’t see. Tears blurred her eyes. She heard herself utter a strangled sort of sound, like someone fighting for breath.