War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 230

Chapter 8

“N

ow we plan our escape,” Richard said, pressing Katrina’s tiny body against his. It was the first time in weeks that the two of them were alone. “But first I need to make love to you.”

“What, now? It’s broad daylight and we should go out and prepare for our journey,” she protested.

He didn’t care. He’d suppressed his desire for weeks, and who knew when they’d be alone again, within the reach of a soft mattress in a dry place. He walked over to the door and locked it, before he returned to his woman, who’d given up protesting, because she’d missed making love as much as he had.

He slowly undressed her, more in love with her than ever before. “You don’t have to flee with me, you know that?” he murmured, caressing her soft skin. “This journey will be dangerous and we don’t know what we’ll find once we get to Berlin.”

“I’d rather die by your side than live without you.” Her answer warmed his heart, and he looked down into her eyes, kissing her tenderly. His second kiss was filled with more passion, and his third had both of them gasping quietly for breath and trying to calm their racing hearts.

Within seconds he forgot about threats and dangers and concentrated solely on her body and the pleasure both of them experienced in each other’s arms. He held her gaze as he slowly made love to her, searing this moment forever into his brain, soul and heart.

Later, Richard held her against his chest and said, “Maybe your friends are right and you should stay with them.”

“No. They are not. We are better off together. Besides, if we separate now, we might never find each other again.”

He knew he should insist, implore, and beg for her to stay here. But the truth was, he didn’t want to be without her, either.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Richard asked, pulling her closer.

“I’m sure. My home is wherever you are.”

“I will always love you.” He kissed her hands, before he continued, “Görlitz is the new border town between Poland and Germany.” Richard’s blood still boiled at the accomplished facts Stalin had created, taking a big chunk of German territories and giving it to Poland, while at the same time declaring huge areas in Poland’s East as Russian.

“We need to find out how to get there,” Katrina said and slipped from his embrace. They both stood and dressed, before she searched the bookshelf in the room and then approached him with a huge smile. “Look what I found!”

“An atlas. In German.”

They found Görlitz on the map and calculated it was about one hundred miles west of Wroclaw.

“We can walk this in a week,” Richard said, excitement taking hold of him. After years away he’d finally return to Germany. And, what was even more important, within a week’s time he wouldn’t have to hide behind forged papers anymore and he’d be safe.

“Let’s stock up on food to take.”

“And pay for it how?”

“With this.” Katrina took the framed picture of the former owners from the mantelpiece. “That’s silver and will bring a good price on the black market.”

Richard wanted to knock the object out of her hand, but much to his dismay he knew she was right. The owners were gone, possibly dead, never to come back to claim what was theirs. The silver frame would ensure he and Katrina had enough food to take on their escape.

“You’ll do it. I stay here and check the maps for our route.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Katrina said and put the picture frame inside the shawl-backpack.

“We’ll leave in the morning,” he said and gave her one last kiss, before she left the room in her quest to organize food for them.

Richard scrutinized the atlas. The scale was too big to glean directions, but at least he had an idea about distances and geography. One hundred miles westward to Görlitz, the border town into the Russian occupied sector of Germany, and from there another one hundred thirty miles northwest to Berlin. He had no idea how his home country looked after the devastating war, but he hoped to be able to catch a train or bus to Berlin. Surely, there was some transport available.

Unfortunately, he’d lost his German papers in the ruins of Mrs. Jaworski’s farm, but that he’d take care of later. Half of the fugitives taking to the trek probably didn’t have proper identification.

A bookworm all his life, he stuck his nose into the atlas, imagining the places to visit and the adventures to experience. Time passed in a whirlwind and when the clock on the mantelpiece struck noon, he reluctantly closed the atlas. It lay heavy in his hand. Too heavy to take with them.

His mind protested as his fingers opened up the correct page and began to tear out the sheets. But it had to be done. They needed every bit of information they could get. He neatly folded the sheets of paper and put them in his shirt pocket.

“Sorry for that,” he whispered and put the majestic book back onto its place on the shelf. Then he roamed the kitchen to find things they’d need on the road.

Afterward, he sat and waited for Katrina to return.

In the evening

the Adamskis returned, to find Katrina and Richard packing.

“So you’re really leaving?” Barbara said.

“Yes, tomorrow before dawn,” Richard answered.

“Tomorrow morning? So soon,” Barbara said, with sorrow in her voice. But she didn’t try to persuade Katrina to stay, for which Katrina was grateful.

After the trip to the black market earlier today and the awful atrocities she’d seen as the mob chased everything German, she increasingly feared not only for Richard, but also for her own life.

“It’s in everyone’s best interests. We’re only a liability for you, if Ryszard is found out…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. Didn’t want to imagine what might happen despite their best efforts.

“Katrina, I’m sorry about yesterday. I know I won’t be able to change your mind, but I don’t want us to separate in anger,” Barbara said, and Edmund nodded to reinforce the words of his wife.

“I’m not leaving with a row. I’m very grateful that you sheltered us for a while and if circumstances permit, I’ll return in a year or less.”

Richard cleared his throat. “Me, too, I’m very thankful for your help. It’s not natural to receive someone from an enemy nation and extend kindness to them. As Katrina said, we’ll visit as soon as the situation permits it.”

“Godspeed,” Barbara said and gave Katrina a hug.

Edmund extended his hand to shake Richard’s hand, but loud knocks on the door made everyone stop and gaze out the window onto the street. A group of people lingered on the battered pavement and they heard angry voices while the hammering continued.

“I’ll get it,” Edmund said. But as soon as he opened the door into the hallway, the visitors stormed inside, shouting, “Where is he? Where’s the German pig?”

Katrina’s heart froze as she looked at Richard and watched the color fade from his face. “How…?” She glanced at her relatives, who wore identical expressions of shock and fear. “Did you…?”

“We didn’t tell. How could you even suggest…?” Barbara cried, hurt and desperation etched on her face.

Three angry men pushed Edmund aside and stomped into the room. Katrina heard a door upstairs click shut.

So it must have been them. Someone in this house overheard our arguing last night and alerted the mob

. But she didn’t have time to ponder her thoughts, because one of the men pushed her aside with such force she stumbled and fell against the coffee table.

The mob leader stood, scanning the room. His eyes paused on Edmund for a moment, and then landed upon Richard. “There he is!”

“I’m a Pole,” Richard said and withdrew his forged papers from his shirt pocket. Only Katrina noticed the slightest tremble in his voice. The men didn’t give them more than a casual glance.

“Anyone can have fake papers,” the mob leader said, spitting on the floor. “I know a Nazi swine when I see one. And

you

are one.”

“No! He’s my cousin!” Katrina cried out, but before she finished her sentence, she felt Barbara’s hand pressing over her mouth and the words came out but a muffled murmur.

“Shush. Or they will take you, too,” Barbara whispered into her ear.

With Barbara closing her mouth and Edmund stepping in front of her, she had to helplessly watch two of the men each grab one of Richard’s arms and drag him outside, forcing him down the street. She couldn’t see more than a crowd, but she heard the vile name-calling directed at Richard and several other Germans.

Edmund closed the door and turned to look at Katrina, who wept angrily. “Where are they taking him? I have to find him!”

“There’s nothing we can do for him. We can just be grateful they didn’t take us as well.