Goodbye to Budapest

by Margarita Morris

  ‘It’s time to leave,’ says Zoltán, sticking his head around the door.

  Whilst Márton goes to fetch his coat, Katalin looks around the room one last time to make sure they haven’t forgotten anything important. Her mother’s piano will have to be left behind. József has promised to try and find a good home for it. On the table next to her father’s reading chair, she notices a manila folder peeking out from under a pile of newspapers. She pulls it out and sees that it’s her father’s AVO file, the one he collected from Andrássy Avenue with András. András read his file and discovered something which upset him. Katalin is not sure if her father ever read his. Zoltán is gathering everyone together in the hallway, but she just wants a moment to look inside the file. She has always wondered who was responsible for denouncing him. Whose lies sent him to the labour camp? She flicks through the pages quickly, furtively. They are mostly typed transcripts of conversations, proving that his work telephone was bugged, just as he thought. And then she sees a name that suddenly makes sense of everything. Ilona Novák. The woman with the beautiful voice was really singing for the Secret Police.

  ‘Katalin, are your ready?’ Zoltán is calling for her from the hallway.

  ‘Coming.’ She drops the hateful file and hurries into the hallway where everyone is waiting for her. Discovering the truth has hardened her resolve to escape from this city, from this country. If she ever sees Ilona again she will be tempted to kill her with her bare hands.

  With Zoltán’s help she straps little Eva into the makeshift sling. Then she takes Lajos by the hand. ‘Come on,’ she says. ‘We’re going on a big adventure.’

  They all bid András a fond farewell, promising to make contact once they are across the border, then they leave.

  It’s like walking through a post-apocalyptic city. Damaged buildings line the route; burnt-out tanks and overturned trams impede their progress. Feri’s café has been reduced to rubble. There’s been no word from the jovial café owner since the tanks came back and they all fear the worst.

  The train station is heaving with the mass of people. Everyone is pushing, jostling, shouting. Lost children cry out. Desperate parents yell frantically. Katalin is terrified that Lajos’s tiny hand will slip out of hers so she lifts him onto Zoltán’s shoulders. They must all stick together whatever happens.

  The train for the border town of Sopron is already on the platform, belching out thick clouds of grey steam. The press of people carries them towards the train, almost without them having to move their feet.

  ‘What about tickets?’ shouts Katalin over the din.

  ‘No time,’ replies Zoltán. ‘No one’s bothering. We don’t want to miss the train.’

  They squeeze into the last carriage moments before the doors slam and the train jolts forward. The jam-packed passengers are thrown against one another. Every inch of available space is taken. There’s no hope of finding a seat.

  Pressed up against her neighbour – a man in a heavy winter overcoat – Katalin does a quick head count of their party to make sure everyone is there: Zoltán and Lajos, her father and Tamás, Petra and Tibor, and little Eva strapped to her chest and sleeping soundly, at least for the time being. All present and correct. The teacher in her relaxes. The train is moving and they are on their way.

  *

  The apartment is so quiet with everyone gone. It almost broke András’s heart to say goodbye, but Márton assured him they would meet up again once they had escaped. Suddenly he feels a deep sense of foreboding. He knows only too well how escapes can go horribly wrong. Does Márton really believe they will see each other again, or was he just being his usual optimistic self? Without his friend and mentor by his side, András feels vulnerable, like the young student he was at the time of his arrest. But you’re not that same young student, he tells himself. Anna is waiting for you, so get a move on.

  He packs the book that Márton gave him as a parting gift into a canvas shoulder bag and puts some clothes in on top. He plans to travel light in case of trouble. He takes one last look around the apartment that has been his home for the last few years and then steps outside, closing the door behind him.

  Once he’s outside and striding down the street, his mood lifts. This is the start of the rest of his life and he intends to make the most of it. When they get to Austria, he’ll ask Anna to marry him. And then they’ll have to think about where they want to live. Could they go to America or Canada? He hopes to finish his studies and find work as an engineer.

  He’s busy pondering the possibilities when a sleek, black car drives past and comes to a stop twenty yards ahead. He doesn’t react until two men in black overcoats jump out and start walking towards him. Suddenly, he realises the danger he’s in. His stomach muscles clench and his heart thuds against his ribcage. He knows what those men are. The Secret Police. He looks left and right for an alleyway to run down, anywhere to hide, but the tall apartment blocks on either side offer no means of escape. He turns to run back the way he has just come, but the men have caught up with him by now. They take an arm each and march him towards the waiting car. They are both bigger and stronger than he is and resistance is useless. They bundle him into the back of the car where he falls into the footwell behind the front passenger seat. Before he has time to get his bearings, the car pulls away from the curb and speeds down the street.

  ‘Good day, András,’ says a deep voice. A thin, hollow-cheeked man in a black coat is sitting in the corner of the back seat. ‘My name is Colonel Szabó and you are under arrest for your part in the uprising.’

  *

  An eerie silence has fallen on the packed carriage. No one dares say too much in case there are AVO men on board. Old habits die hard. When she can see past the shoulders of those standing around her, Katalin peers out of the window at the mud-brown fields and the dull afternoon light which will soon fade to dusk.

  At each stop a few people alight but even more clamber on board, cramming themselves into the tiniest of spaces. There are rumours that the stations up ahead are swarming with Secret Police. Katalin feels sick with worry. If they’re caught trying to escape they’ll go to prison. She’s putting her children’s lives at risk.

  The train rumbles through the countryside, but is it taking them to safety or leading them into danger?

  After almost three hours they are close to the last stop before the border. An urgent whispered message is passed down the carriage that the driver will slow down before the station so that people can jump off the train. That way they can avoid the AVO who are lying in wait on the platform.

  Jump off! Katalin looks in alarm at Zoltán. How are they going to jump off with a baby, a small child and her father in tow? It’s madness. Petra looks as if she might cry. Only Tibor is grinning at the thought of jumping off a moving train. And even if they do manage to jump off without injuring themselves, can they still avoid arrest?

  As promised, the train slows to a crawl and everyone starts to stir. This is the moment of truth. Katalin feels a rush of cold air on her face as someone opens the door and it bangs against the side of the carriage. Then those closest to the door start to jump.

  ‘It’s all right,’ says Zoltán. ‘We’re moving at a walking pace. I’ll go first with Lajos. Then you can help your father down and pass Eva to me.’

  There’s a press of people behind them, keen to get off the train whilst they still have a chance.

  Before Katalin can protest, Zoltán scoops Lajos into his arms and leaps from the train. And then he is striding alongside to help Márton climb down. With her father safely on terra firma, Katalin unstraps Eva from the sling and hands her to Zoltán. Then she takes a deep breath and jumps, rolling onto the muddy grass. When she stands up she’s amazed to see that she’s still in one piece. Tamás has jumped too and is still holding her violin case under his arm.

  Petra and Tibor have exited from the other side of the train. When the train disappears, they cross over the tracks to join the others.

  �
��That was brilliant,’ says Tibor.

  Petra shakes her head but Katalin sees that she is smiling.

  There must be a few hundred people milling around along the length of the railway track. Some of them have already started to head across the fields, fanning out in a wide arc.

  ‘Wait until the crowds have dispersed,’ says Zoltán. ‘It will be better if we don’t travel with a large group. We’ll be less conspicuous.’ He takes a map and compass out of his rucksack and waits for the needle to settle. ‘That way is west. The road to freedom.’

  It’s already dusk when they set out across the fields, avoiding the roads. So far, so good, thinks Katalin. But there’s still a long way to go.

  *

  They have locked him in a prison cell. It’s cold and dark, the only light from a tiny barred window high in the wall. András sits on the hard wooden bed, his head in his hands. All he can think about is Anna and how he’s failed her. He’s terrified that she’ll wait for him and put herself in danger. He hopes that her brothers will persuade her to leave anyway.

  He listens to the footsteps and shouts in the corridor. It sounds as if they are rounding up as many freedom fighters as they can find and throwing them into the cells. Brave, young men and women who fought for their country’s freedom right across the city. Thousands more on the run. He hopes with all his heart that Márton and his family made it onto the train and that they manage to cross the border safely. His own situation looks dire, so all he can do is hope and pray for his friends.

  The cell door slams open and Colonel Szabó enters. His tall, cadaver-like frame fills the tiny cell. He looks down at András from beneath his hooded eyelids.

  ‘Your fate depends on how useful you can be,’ says the colonel. ‘Give me the names of your fellow insurgents and you could walk out of here a free man.’

  András doesn’t believe him. And even if he did, he would never supply this man with the names of those he fought with in the Corvin Circle.

  ‘Where has Márton Bakos gone? Where is his son-in-law, Zoltán Dobos?’

  András’s head jerks up at the mention of Márton and Zoltán.

  ‘Their apartment is empty,’ says the colonel. ‘The traitors have fled.’

  ‘I don’t know where they are,’ says András, which is true in a way. He has no idea if they are still on the train or walking across fields or what.

  ‘What about your girlfriend? Anna is her name, isn’t it?’

  At the mention of Anna, András jumps to his feet, ready to punch this evil man. Colonel Szabó puts out a hand to stall him. ‘Think about it. You could be out of here if you give me the information I require.’

  ‘I have nothing to tell you,’ says András. If his silence ensures the safety of those he loves, then he will never breathe a word about their whereabouts.

  Colonel Szabó turns on his heel and leaves the cell. The door is slammed shut and bolted behind him.

  *

  It’s hard going, tramping across the muddy, ploughed fields in the freezing cold, a biting wind searing the skin off their faces. For long stretches Márton imagines he’s still at Recsk, trudging back to the camp after a gruelling day at the quarry, every muscle in his body aching from carrying such heavy loads. He hears Béla’s voice in his head saying the quarry is too steep, and the barked orders of the guards, and he sees himself lying down on his bunk bed, too exhausted to even take off his boots. But then he hears a whimper from little Eva tucked snuggly against Katalin’s chest, and sees his tiny grandson asleep on Zoltán’s shoulders, and he’s jolted back to the present moment. He’s fleeing his homeland – he’ll probably never see it again in his lifetime – and he feels an overwhelming sorrow.

  Darkness has fallen now and they are travelling by the light of the moon. Every now and again they pause so that Zoltán can check the compass with a small flashlight. But he doesn’t keep the light on for long in case a border guard spots it. They keep an eye out for watchtowers and try to stay as quiet as possible.

  ‘It shouldn’t be much further now,’ says Zoltán. ‘Maybe a couple of miles.’ But it’s impossible to be sure, thinks Márton. They can’t see anything and it feels as if they are walking in a wilderness.

  They sit on the freezing ground and share their provisions of food. No one says much because they are all too exhausted. It’s too cold to sit there for long so as soon as they’ve finished eating they continue on their way.

  They’ve gone about another mile when the ground underfoot starts to become swampy. Mud sucks at Márton’s shoes and with his next step his foot sinks into the ground up to his ankle. He almost loses his balance as he pulls his foot free with a squelching sound. The others are having the same problem trying to stay upright in the boggy ground. He is on the point of suggesting they turn back and try a detour when Zoltán points at something in the distance.

  ‘Look, what’s that light over there?’

  Márton strains his eyes into the distance. He can just make out a tiny gleam on the horizon. Maybe it’s a village, maybe it’s a watchtower. From this distance they have no way of knowing.

  They trudge on through the mire, walking in pairs for support in the marshy ground. Márton is touched to see Tamás offer him his arm to lean on.

  After half an hour of sinking sometimes knee deep into the swamp, they come to the edge of a fast-flowing river, swollen with the recent heavy rain.

  ‘Look,’ says Zoltán triumphantly. The light which was no more than a speck earlier is now clearly visible. They are looking at the lights of a small village. An Austrian village.

  But it’s on the other side of the river which is churning at their feet, a barrier as effective as any barbed wire fence.

  Márton sinks to his knees in the mud, exhausted from hours of walking through the night. He doesn’t think he has the strength to go on. He should lie down here and let the others go. They’re all younger and fitter than he is, he is only holding them up. He’s about to tell them to go on without him when a bright flare lights up the sky and the silence is split by the sound of machine-gun fire.

  *

  Anna stands at the window of her parents’ apartment, anxiously scanning the street for any sign of András. It’s already hours after he promised he would be here and darkness has fallen. Maybe she should go and look for him.

  Kristóf enters the room and comes to stand beside her. ‘The truck is ready to leave. We need to go.’

  ‘But he said he would be here,’ she wails.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ says Kristóf. He puts his hands on her shoulders and turns her to look at him. ‘We can’t wait any longer. If they are rounding up freedom fighters then every moment we delay puts us in more danger.’

  Anna bites her lower lip, her eyes brimming with tears. ‘But I love him. And he loves me. He wouldn’t just let me down. Something must have happened to him.’

  ‘If that is the case, then all the more reason for you to leave now, whilst you still can. If András truly loves you then he will want you to be safe. He won’t want you to stay in Budapest waiting for him. If he was going to come he would have been here by now.’

  Her heart is breaking, but Anna nods her head, absorbing the truth of her brother’s words.

  ‘Come and say goodbye to Mama and Papa. Then we really must leave.’

  With her eyes full of tears, she lets Kristóf lead her away from the window.

  *

  ‘Everyone down!’ hisses Zoltán.

  Katalin crouches down in the mud, trying to make herself invisible. The children have been blessedly quiet so far, but at the sound of the machine-gun fire, Lajos starts to cry. Eva wakes from her slumbering position against Katalin’s breast and lets out a piercing wail.

  In desperation Katalin sticks her little finger into her daughter’s mouth in an effort to pacify her whilst Zoltán tries to calm Lajos but the little boy is deaf to all entreaties to be quiet.

  As soon as Katalin takes her finger from Eva’s mouth so that she can hug
her son, the baby starts wailing again. It’s hopeless.

  Zoltán is rummaging in the rucksack and eventually pulls out a squashed bar of chocolate.

  ‘Look what I found,’ he says, breaking off a piece and holding it out to his son.

  At first Lajos is too distraught to notice the chocolate and continues to cry, loud hacking sobs that fill the night air. Zoltán puts the piece of chocolate into Lajos’s mouth and slowly the boy’s cries lessen.

  ‘Pass me Eva’s bottle,’ says Katalin. It’s the only way to calm her down. She stuffs the teat into Eva’s open mouth and silence descends. This is the last of the milk. There will be no more food now until they are in Austria. If they get that far.

  ‘Did you see what was on the horizon?’ she says in a low voice. When the flare lit up the sky, she saw the vertical outline of a watchtower, less than two hundred yards away. Proof that they are right on the border and are in grave danger of being caught.

  ‘Yes,’ says Zoltán. ‘We can’t go any further. We have to cross here.’

  Katalin contemplates the water. It’s maybe ten or twelve yards across, but how deep is it?

  As if he’s read her thoughts, Tibor says, ‘I’m going to test it out.’

  ‘No!’ says Petra. ‘It’s too dangerous.’

  ‘Sitting here is dangerous,’ says Tibor. ‘Besides, I’m fifteen now. You can’t stop me.’

  Before Petra can say anything else, Tibor wades into the water.

  Katalin puts a hand on Petra’s shoulder. ‘Don’t worry. He’s a good boy. He won’t do anything stupid.’

  ‘I can’t see him,’ says Petra. ‘Where is he?’

  Katalin peers into the darkness, but she can barely make out Tibor’s upper body above the level of the water. If Tibor drowns she’ll never forgive herself for persuading Petra to come with them. But then there’s a splashing sound and he is climbing back out of the water.

  ‘I got over halfway,’ he says, ‘and it only came up as far as my chest. Look.’ He points to his sodden clothes. He’s shaking with cold, but he’s proved that they can cross the river if they try. Petra hugs him to her.