The Runaway Family (27 page)

He was about to turn back when he noticed there was a smaller, Judas gate in the main gates and it was slightly ajar, allowing access into the yard beyond. Cautiously he looked around him. The lane behind him was in shadow, but the yard on the other side of the gate was lit by a lamp fixed high on the corner of a large building, some sort of warehouse, Kurt assumed. Another lamp, atop a tall stanchion, spilled light across the rest of the yard, glinting on the dark water of the canal beyond. All along one wall of the warehouse were large crates, stacked neatly as if ready to be loaded onto something, and beyond stood several machines of some sort, still and silent, waiting for morning.

All was quiet; no sign of guards or a watchman. Perhaps there was somewhere here he could spend the night. Kurt eased the small gate open. It moved surprisingly smoothly, with no hint of a squeak or rasp, as if the hinges had been recently oiled. Stepping through he moved quickly into the shadow of the warehouse. Still no sound. Taking care to stay in the patches of shadow, he edged his way along its wall, hands outstretched against the brickwork. He was looking for a door or window that might let him into the warehouse. As he moved he strained his ears for any sound that would warn him someone else was there, but there was nothing. He reached the front of the warehouse, and found that it had huge wide doors, which would slide open along a track in the ground. These were tightly closed and well lit by the overhead lights, and he shrank back into the sheltering darkness.

Then he heard them, soft voices behind him. He pressed himself flat against the warehouse wall, hoping that he would be invisible in the shadows if he stayed completely still. Looking back across the yard, he saw two men had come in through the small gate, one leading the other to where the canal boats were tied up to the wharf. There were three barges waiting there, and the man leading went straight to the last. He jumped down onto the broad flat deck, and then beckoned the second man to follow. This he did, though with far less agility than the first. Indeed he almost fell, and it was only the first man grabbing him by the arm that stopped him from falling headlong into the water. Again there was the murmur of talk, but Kurt couldn’t hear what was being said. Then the first man leaned down and twisted something before heaving open a hatch. He lowered the cover quietly to the deck and then both men disappeared below. Clearly, Kurt thought, they don’t want to be heard, which means they shouldn’t be here. In a matter of minutes, the first man reappeared on deck, quietly closing the hatch behind him. For a moment he paused, looking across at the warehouse, and Kurt thought with a jolt of fear that he’d been seen, but after another moment the man climbed up onto the wharf again and left the yard as silently as he had come, pausing only to lock the small gate with a large padlock. Within a minute he had disappeared into the darkness of the lane, leaving Kurt locked inside the boatyard.

For a long moment Kurt stared at the locked gate, and then ran swiftly over to it, wondering if he could climb over; but the main gate, he saw now, was topped with barbed wire. The yard was bounded by the warehouse on one side and walls too high to scale on the others. The only other way out was the canal. Kurt moved back into the shadows again. He didn’t want to be caught there if the first man came back. For a long while he leaned against the warehouse wall considering what he should do. It was very cold, and he shivered. A thin mist was rising from the water. There was no escape that way. He would have to wait until morning and try and slip out of the gates when they were opened by the men coming to work in the yard. In the meantime, perhaps he could find shelter on one of the moored barges… and that was when the idea struck him.

Barges from here travelled east, down the canals and the Danube, he’d seen them earlier in the day. They would pass through Passau, through Austria and beyond… and through Vienna. His mind teemed with questions as he considered the idea. Was it possible that he could stow away on one of these and travel safely down the river until he reached Vienna? How long did barges take to go from Regensburg to Vienna? Certainly days, but how many? Maybe he could stow away just until they had crossed the Austrian border. Surely he could remain hidden until then, Passau wasn’t that far away, was it? What about food? What about water? What about calls of nature?

He edged his way round the yard, keeping to the shadows, until he came to the wharf on the far side. Here the lamps were brighter, shedding light onto three heavy barges that waited to make their journey east. They were long and low, and lay silent in the still waters of the canal. Although there was living accommodation aboard there were no lights showing from below. He looked at the one the men had entered, the last in the string. There was no light from that one either, though he knew that one man, at least, was inside. Perhaps that man was an illicit passenger as well. Perhaps he was trying to get out of Germany… another Jew on the run? Kurt moved to the next barge and stepped silently down onto her deck. He found a similar hatch, and, grasping the wheel as he had seen the man do, tried to open it, but the wheel wouldn’t budge, and the hatch remained locked. Kurt moved softly aft along the deck, and came to the wheelhouse door, but that too was locked, as was the aft hatch. There was no way of getting inside this barge. He moved to the third one, but had no better luck there. The only barge that might carry him along the river was the one that already had a man hidden aboard.

Kurt thought of the soldiers at the station, of the Gestapo at the hotel, and of his desperate need to get to Ruth and the children, and made his decision. If the man in the last barge was on the run, then he was hardly likely to question the arrival of another fugitive. If he was hidden somewhere below decks, Kurt was determined to hide there too. He didn’t know if the bargee would be aware that he had passengers hiding on one of his barges, but, even if he did, it was unlikely he would check on the man before taking his string of barges out onto the river. If he did, Kurt would try offering the man money to allow him to stay on board. If he regularly smuggled men across the border, he would almost certainly take the bribe… but whether he would betray him when he got there was another matter.

Kurt stepped quietly onto the deck of the last barge and crept towards the hatch. He hoped that if the man below had heard him he would think it was his friend coming back. He twisted the wheel, which turned easily, and pulled the hatch open. Darkness and silence greeted him, but he didn’t wait, simply slid over the edge and dropped down into the space below pulling the hatch closed over his head. At first the darkness was complete, but as his eyes grew accustomed to it, he realised that faint light was coming in through two grimy portholes. He stood quite still, straining his ears for sounds of the man already hidden, but there were none. He had no idea where the man was, all he knew was that he was somewhere down here. As he gradually began to make out more of his surroundings, Kurt edged away from the hatch and ran his hands along the curved sides of the barge. He was in a cabin. It was very small, fitted out as living accommodation for crewmen. His fingers felt a folding table with a bench seat on each side. These had padded tops and clearly doubled as bunks. Above each was some sort of locker or cupboard, but there was little else and no sign of the man he had seen climb down earlier.

Kurt sat down on one of the benches and considered his position. He was out of sight, and he was out of the cold. What would happen when the crewman came and found him there he didn’t know, but for now he could do no more, so he wrapped his coat more firmly around him and lay down on the bench bunk to wait for morning. He was almost asleep when he felt the bunk shaking beneath him, for a moment or two he lay between sleep and wakefulness, wondering what had woken him. Then he felt it again, the bunk was shaking. Kurt got up quickly, and as he did so the bunk was heaved up and from underneath it a man’s voice spoke in a hoarse whisper. “Heinz, is that you? Heinz?”

Kurt didn’t answer. He moved silently away from the bunk, so that he was standing below the hatch. The voice came again. “Heinz? Who’s there?”

“Me,” replied Kurt. “Who are you?”

“Did Heinz bring you?” A man’s head appeared from below the bunk, which had opened like a window seat. “Who are you? Heinz didn’t say there’d be anyone else.” The voice was quavering now, uncertain and afraid.

“Didn’t he?” Kurt was thinking fast. Clearly Heinz must be the other man, the one who had brought this man to the barge, and Heinz must be smuggling men across the border. “Well, he didn’t tell me about you either.”

The man hauled himself up from the bunk and peered in Kurt’s direction. “He told me to hide in the bunk if I heard anyone coming,” he said.

“He told me that, too,” Kurt replied.

“It’s
my
hiding place,” the man snapped.

“I expect there’s space under the other bunk,” Kurt said and pulled up the padded seat to look. It was dark inside and he could see nothing, but he leaned forward and groped round with his hands. The space was empty. “There you are,” he said reasonably. “ A place for each of us.” He kept his voice even, afraid that if he antagonised this man he would betray him to Heinz… whoever he was. “Just as long as…” He broke off suddenly as the sound of voices came from outside.

“Someone coming,” hissed the man, and slipped back inside the bunk, pulling the top down over his head.

Kurt slithered into the space below the other bunk and just had time to close it before the hatch above opened and someone dropped down into the little cabin. Kurt heard a soft tap on the other bunk and an answering tap from the man inside, then the scrambling of feet as whoever it was clambered back up on deck, and the thud of the hatch cover coming down.

There was more shouting from outside, and then Kurt felt the barge lurch forward as the towline tightened and they began to move along the canal. It was smooth enough at first as they moved slowly along the canal, but the motion changed abruptly as they joined the surge of the river, and the barge began swinging and rolling in the swirl of the Danube, before settling to a more even motion.

It was impossible to remain crammed into the tiny space below the bunk, and as soon as he realised that they were underway, Kurt heaved himself upward, lifting the bunk and hauling himself out. He sat on the edge, with the top still raised so that he could dive for cover again if they heard footsteps approaching on the deck. It was still dark outside, but occasional lights from the shore illuminated the cabin briefly, and he took stock of his surroundings. He took off his coat, and, rolling it carefully, stowed it deep in the hiding place under the bunk. It was bulky and might hinder him getting in and out swiftly if the need arose.

The other man also pulled himself out, and as a light caught his face, Kurt knew he had guessed correctly. His companion peered across at him and demanded, “Who are you?”

“I might ask the same of you,” Kurt replied, but he already knew. “Are you just going across the border, or all the way to Vienna?”

“What’s that to you?” snapped the man.

“Nothing, but once we’re out of Germany, we may not have to hide.”

“You’re a Jew!” stated the man, defiantly.

“So are you,” answered Kurt. “So we both need to get out. If one of us is caught, we both shall be.”

The man did not reply. He stared across at Kurt, trying to see his face in the passing lights. “Heinz said to stay hidden till he came for me,” he said, “but I hate it in there.”

“We should hear them coming in time,” Kurt said. “I’m not staying in there all the time either. Just keep away from the portholes and listen out for footsteps.”

As daylight crept into the sky, they sat in silence, each deep in his own thoughts. When he could see properly, Kurt inspected the space under the bunk. It was about six feet long and two feet deep, and was clearly storage space for the crew who lived aboard the barge. Surely only two men could live on each barge, simply there to keep the boat in line with the others in the string as they were towed down the Danube, a river busy with steamers, boats and barges.

It was full daylight before they heard the footsteps approaching the hatch again. Both men were under the bunks in a trice, the tops lowered, holding their breath. Kurt could hear his heart pounding and wondered if the person who had slipped down into the cabin could hear it too. Then he heard what he’d been dreading. Whoever it was had opened the other bunk and was speaking to the man inside.

Within moments the top of the bunk was jerked open and Kurt was staring up into the furious face of the bargee.

“Ho yes!” growled the man. “And what have we ’ere then? Who the ’ell are you? And what are you doing ’ere?”

“He said you told him to come here, Heinz!” squeaked the other man.

“Shut up, Max,” snapped Heinz.

Kurt started to get out of the hiding place but a knife appeared from nowhere in the man’s hand. He was gripping it tightly, caressing the wicked blade with his thumb and pointing it straight at Kurt’s throat.

“No, no,” he said, “you stay put where you are, mate. I think you’re a Gestapo spy.”

Kurt gave a bitter laugh. “Gestapo! You couldn’t be more wrong! Ask your friend Max.”

“Max doesn’t know who you are!”

“No, he doesn’t know who I am, but he knows what I am!”

“Another dirty Jew,” said Max flatly. “You’ve got two for the price of one.”

Heinz leered at them. “No I bloody ’aven’t,” he said. “I’ve two for the price of two… maybe.” He gave a chuckle. “Or none for the price of two. Depends if you’ve got any money, don’t it?” He nodded meaningfully at Kurt.

“How much do you want?” asked Kurt, his brain racing.

“All you’ve got,” answered Heinz cheerfully. “And if it’s not enough, well, our tug captain don’t like Jews much. If I tell ’im I found you two stowed away on my barge, well I reckon he’ll ’and you over at Passau. We’ll be there late this evening. There’s Gestapo there.”

Max gave a wail. “But I’ve paid you, Heinz, you can’t betray me now!”