‘Jakob!’ I lifted my hands to my mouth. ‘Spying?’
‘Don’t say it like that.’ Jakob’s eyes grew stony. ‘It’s not just me. There are other students, too. We pulled down all the Soviet flags in the university square one night and replaced them with Estonian ones.’ He smirked. ‘That was my idea. We made the flags ourselves, by dying some old scarves and sewing them together. You should have seen the Partorg’s face! He was visiting the university the next day with some important diplomats from Moscow…’ Jakob’s voice trailed off as he caught sight of my expression. ‘You don’t have to look so disappointed. I don’t regret joining.’ He set his jaw stubbornly. ‘If anything, I think they are our only option. We can’t go on for much longer, licking the Russians’ boot heels, subjugating ourselves to the whims of Stalin and the Partorg. I just need you to help me convince Papa to join, too.’ He raised his chin. ‘You see, I don’t plan on going back to university. Torvid will; he’s gone home to his parents in Tallinn to lie low and then he’ll come back next term when the storm is over. But not me. I’m going to join my friends in the forest. Live there, sleep there. I’m going to do everything I can to help win this war with the Partisans that the Soviets have started. What good will a degree in teaching do me when all the jobs go to Russians anyway? How will staying at university help our country? Kati, Papa has always listened to you; you have a way of softening him. So, that’s it. That’s my plan. We will return to the farmhouse together and I’ll collect my things. This time next week I’ll be a real resistance fighter.’
He sat back, waiting for me to speak.
A real resistance fighter. My brother’s words chilled my skin. ‘Have you… Have you seen Oskar lately?’
Jakob narrowed his eyes, but he was still smiling. ‘Not for a few weeks. He can be… mysterious. General Pilk of the Estonian Home Guard – he is the man in charge of this area – he says Oskar is one of their best fighters, but he takes off sometimes and it’s hard to know where he goes. He is in charge of his own unit. They always come back with all sorts of things to sell and weapons and useful information, so he’s always forgiven. Why?’ Suspicion sharpened his words. ‘You haven’t seen him, have you?’
I nodded. It seemed that no matter what I did, I could not escape the association with these renegades. First Oskar, now Jakob. There was the scrape of sugar as Jakob stirred his own coffee, the chime of a spoon rebounding against the china.
‘He came to the farmhouse last night.’
Jakob paused, the spoon stilled in his hand. ‘Why would he do that?’
I shrugged miserably. ‘To do the same thing as you, I suppose. To convince Papa to join this crazy movement that seems to have turned all your heads.’
‘That bastard!’ he said. His hand was shaking. The spoon rattled against the saucer as he set it down. ‘He never said he was going to… He had no right.’ His face suddenly crumpled, like a child’s. He raised one trembling hand and cupped his forehead. ‘Oh God. He’s ruined everything. What did Papa say?’
‘He told him to go away.’ The words brought a fresh wash of guilt. ‘He swore if he ever saw him again, or any of his brethren, he would notify the Partorg and have them all arrested for treason!’
Jakob was shaking his head. His coffee lay abandoned. ‘This is terrible. Kati, do you think he realises what he’s done?’
‘Why didn’t you tell him to wait until you had spoken to Papa?’
Jakob gave a mirthless laugh. His face had gone very pale; freckles stood out against the pallor. ‘Oskar does what he wants. Didn’t I already say that?’
‘He must have had his reasons for coming to Papa early,’ I ventured.
Jakob’s head snapped up. ‘Oh, so now you’re defending him?’
His tone made me prickle. ‘I never said I was defending him! But he mentioned something about…’ I lowered my voice. ‘Germans. And parachuters. That they needed somewhere safe to land.’
My mind was suddenly filled with a vision of our moonlit fields. I heard the hum of planes, the whoosh of parachutes filling with air and saw our farmhouse as if I were circling it from high above, smoke curling up from the chimney, the bright lamplight from the windows like shining beacons against the oily blackness of the night.
A chair scraped against the floor. Jakob was rummaging in his pockets. He threw a bunch of roubles down onto the table. His mouth was a thin, taut line. ‘Come on. We’re going home.’
I jumped to my feet. ‘Now?’
Jakob said nothing but began to push towards the exit. I hurried to keep up with him, bumping my hip against a sharp table edge and almost sending a chair crashing. The look Jakob threw me was not of reproach but one of surprising softness. When I reached him, he linked his arm through mine and pushed open the door with one hand. He waited until we were out in the street until he spoke, and then his voice was low, soft in my ear. ‘Have courage,’ he whispered.
He squeezed my arm, but it did nothing to repel the feeling of dread in my stomach.
Wallpaper Pattern
Lydia
‘There you are.’
In the stark reception room at Papa’s offices, Lieutenant Lubov stood smiling behind a polished walnut desk. His uniform was clean again after this morning’s incident in Tiksoja, the grey suit pressed. His dark hair had been oiled into place. He was a model of Soviet perfection; the kind of man the girls at Model School No. 25 would have given anything to meet. But something about him unsettled me. Perhaps he reminded me too much of my uncle: outward friendliness concealing a moody interior. And why was he here? I frowned.
Struggling with her case behind me, Olga let out a cry of surprise. ‘Lieutenant!’
He rounded the desk and plucked the case out of her hand, lifting it easily onto a chair nearby.
‘We did not expect to see you,’ I said. ‘What happened to the bandits? Did you catch them?’
‘No.’ For a moment, his visage slipped. I caught a flash of irritation in his eyes before he concealed it. ‘They escaped. There did not seem any point lingering.’ He held out his hand for my case. I pulled it closer. Lieutenant Lubov let his hand fall, his smile still fixed in place. ‘I thought I would come and file my report here in person, though.’
‘You must have rushed through your paperwork.’
Lieutenant Lubov shrugged. ‘Paperwork is never-ending in my job. I owe you an apology.’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘Oh?’
‘Yes. I should have offered you both a lift from Tiksoja. I should not have let you endure the rest of the train ride unescorted. Two ladies, far from home, one of them the Partorg’s daughter.’
I studied him. ‘We managed, Olga, didn’t we? A man at the station was kind enough to give us a lift. An Estonian,’ I added. I noticed a muscle flicker in Lieutenant Lubov’s cheek.
‘Ah.’ His smile had faded a little. ‘A small warning: you should be careful who you accept lifts from. Those bandits you met earlier? They have friends and families who help them in Tartu and the villages roundabouts. Sometimes they even dress as women to conceal their identities. They have their own network of spies. Do you by chance recall this individual’s name?’ He took out his notebook. ‘I can run a check. He may already be on a list of people with unsavoury connections.’
I opened my mouth to tell him but paused, remembering Joachim. My heart squeezed tightly as Jakob’s questions floated back to me. They had been quietly probing but nothing like an interrogation. I shook my head. ‘I’m sorry. He didn’t tell me his name.’
Lieutenant Lubov stared at me a second longer and then seemed to let the thought drop. He pocketed the notebook. ‘No matter. Let me show you upstairs to your father’s office, then. I’m sure he will be delighted to see you.’