Partisan

by Christopher Nicole

  Sandrine had kicked her on the ankle.

  ‘And this woman,’ Ivkov said, ‘she is so lovely. And did I not save her life? Did I not carry her, mile after mile? Did I not bring you here, to shelter? Did I—’

  ‘You’ve made your point, old fellow,’ Tony said, and looked at Sandrine.

  ‘If you let this man have me,’ she said, speaking quietly but with great intensity, ‘I will kill you all before I kill myself.’

  Elena snorted. ‘Pavelic had you, and you did not kill him.’

  ‘I will kill him!’ Sandrine said again.

  Tony sighed. But he had always known it would come to this. Perhaps they were fortunate that it had not happened sooner, when they had been more vulnerable.

  ‘Well, there it is,’ he said. ‘I’m sure you will agree with me, Ivkov, that it would be a waste of time to ask for your word that this will not happen again.’

  ‘Well . . .’ Ivkov lifted his head. ‘Are you going to shoot me?’

  ‘Yes,’ Sandrine said.

  ‘No,’ Tony said. ‘You have been a good comrade. But you cannot stay with us. You will leave now. I would say it is about a week’s walk to Belgrade. Take as much of the food as you think you will need and can carry, and go.’

  ‘I do not know where to go.’

  ‘I showed you the North Star, remember? Keep it on your left hand, and when the sun rises, keep that on your right hand, and you will be travelling north-east. That will bring you to the Sava in only a couple of days, and then you can follow the river into the city. Who knows, you may even find a bus working, or get a ride on a riverboat.’

  ‘You are sending me out, without money?’

  ‘We have no money.’

  ‘Then at least give me a gun.’

  ‘We need our guns. We are sending you out with your life, Ivkov. Be grateful.’

  ‘The Germans will shoot me.’

  ‘There is no reason for them to do that, although they might if they found any weapons on you. You are a civilian, and your home is in Belgrade. Tell them that we kidnapped you to guide us out of the city, but that you escaped from us. Now it is time for you to go.’

  Ivkov hesitated, then went to the town hall to collect his food.

  ‘You are too soft-hearted,’ Sandrine said. ‘All you men are alike. It is because you have never had anyone crawling all over you, trying to put their fingers into you . . . ugh!’

  ‘Listen,’ Elena said. ‘Go inside and put some clothes on. Men are men and there is an end to it.’ She pushed Sandrine into the house, and closed the door. ‘But I agree with her,’ she told Tony.

  ‘About having men crawling all over you?’

  She grinned. ‘I should be so lucky. No, that Ivkov should have been shot. He is very resentful. Don’t you think he will tell the Germans we are here?’

  ‘I have an idea they already know . . . that someone is here, in any event.’

  ‘Then what are we going to do?’

  ‘We are going to have to leave. Tomorrow morning. Can you kill a goat?’

  ‘I can shoot one. And then skin it, I suppose. You will have to help me.’

  ‘You can teach Sandrine. It might help her to work off some of her angst.’

  Ivkov reappeared, a sack slung over his shoulder. ‘I am sorry it has come to this, Captain, sir,’ he said. ‘I have enjoyed serving you. How can we let a woman come between us?’

  ‘You go on like that and I will shoot you myself,’ Elena said.

  ‘It’s a fact,’ Tony said. ‘Women are just as human as men, Ivkov. If you could get that through your head, you’d probably be a happier man.’

  Ivkov gazed at him for several seconds, then turned and set off down the street.

  *

  They ate their supper in silence. Then Sandrine said, ‘I suppose you think I am to blame for this.’

  ‘Yes,’ Elena said.

  ‘No,’ Tony said.

  Elena glared at him.

  ‘It had to happen,’ Tony said. ‘I knew it had to happen. I should have done something about it earlier.’

  ‘You should have left him behind in the Serb camp,’ Sandrine said.

  ‘Then we would not have found this place,’ Elena pointed out.

  ‘Would we have been any worse off?’

  ‘How can you say that? We have lived in comfort for two months.’

  ‘Comfort? The Ustase—’

  ‘Were a hiccup, I agree. But for the rest, we have had food to eat and clothes to wear and a roof over our heads. We are well armed—’

  ‘And a hundred people are dead.’

  ‘They would have died whether we were here or not.’

  Sandrine looked at Tony.

  ‘She is right about that,’ Tony said. ‘Listen, both of you, as I said, it was bound to happen. It was a situation about which I had not been taught, and I just did not know how to handle it. The fault is mine. Now we must put it out of our minds and think about what we are going to do next.’

  ‘But you are angry with me,’ Sandrine said.

  ‘Yes,’ Elena said.

  ‘No,’ Tony said.

  Another glare.

  Sandrine got up. ‘I will sleep in another house tonight.’

  She left the room.

  ‘What do you reckon?’ Tony asked Elena.

  ‘About her? Do not worry about her. She is not the type to do anything stupid. But you do worry about her, eh?’

  ‘I worry about all of us.’

  ‘Ha! You know what I think? I think it would have made more sense to expel Sandrine rather than Ivkov. She’d be perfectly safe, with her Vichy-French neutrality. The Germans would probably set her up with her own newspaper.’

  ‘Do you have any idea how many times she would be raped before she reached Belgrade?’

  ‘That is important? Think how many times she has been raped already, in the past couple of months. And she’s still smiling.’

  ‘Not very often. And she was raped precisely once.’

  ‘Ha! You are not including yourself, then?’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake. Go to bed.’ He stood up.

  ‘You are not coming with me?’

  ‘Not just now. I must see Sandrine first.’

  ‘Ha! You are going to make it three, eh? Or have I lost count?’

  ‘You are going to make me very angry in a moment. I am going to see Sandrine to tell her to lock her door and keep her weapon handy; Ivkov might come back.’

  ‘And what about me?’

  ‘You will be sleeping beside me,’ he told her.

  *

  It was completely dark outside, and Tony had no idea where Sandrine had gone. So he followed his instincts, and tried the cottage next to theirs. He knocked, and then opened the door, trying to peer into the darkness. ‘Are you there?’ he asked.

  There was no reply. Mentally cursing, he stepped outside again, and then had another idea. He walked away from the houses, and saw her sitting on the edge of the stream, her legs drawn up; at least she was fully clothed.

  She did not turn her head, but she knew who it was. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘Truly sorry.’

  ‘And I have told you that you must not be.’

  ‘It was just that after Pavelic,’ she said as if he had not spoken. ‘Pavelic . . . do you know what he did to me?’

  ‘Do you really want to tell me?’

  ‘I am telling you. He made me lie on my face, with my ass in the air. I thought he was going to come in the back way, you know . . . Some men like that.’

  ‘Some women too,’ Tony said, thinking of Elena.

  ‘Oh, I like it too, with the right man. But Pavelic, he buggered me.’

  ‘Shit!’

  ‘He hurt me. Oh, he hurt me. I bled. I bled for a couple of days. And I felt so ashamed. And then, Ivkov—’

  ‘Don’t tell me . . .’

  ‘No. I don’t think so. I don’t know what he wanted to do.’ She gave a little giggle. ‘I kicked him first.’ The giggle was fo
llowed by a sigh. ‘I could have kicked Pavelic too. But I knew that if I did, he would have killed me, and then perhaps killed you all as well. Besides, I had already seen all the weapons he had in his tent, and I knew that if I could just wait until he went to sleep, I could perhaps get us all free.’

  ‘As you did, by gritting your teeth and submitting. I think you are all kinds of a heroine, Sandrine.’

  ‘Do you? Do you really, Tony? Then you mean you don’t hate me?’

  ‘Hate you?’ He held her face between his hands and kissed her on the mouth. ‘I love you, you adorable little girl.’

  ‘Oh. Tony!’ She clung to him. ‘But—’

  ‘I know. I am going to see what I can sort out. But for the time being, I must go along with Elena.’ He didn’t doubt that she would kill to defend what she regarded as her property. ‘You will have to be patient for a while longer.’

  ‘But . . . you will come to me, when you can?’

  ‘When I can.’

  ‘You are here now.’

  ‘She is waiting for me. Now you must go to bed. But listen. Lock the door of your hut, and sleep with your tommy-gun beside you. Ivkov may come back.’

  ‘I will do that. But . . . tomorrow . . .’

  ‘As I said, I’ll see what I can work out.’ He kissed her again, then walked with her back to the houses. ‘Remember, lock your door.’

  Elena was already beneath the blanket. ‘Don’t tell me she was bathing again.’

  ‘She was thinking.’

  ‘What has she got to think about?’

  ‘Everything we have to think about.’

  ‘We could still leave her here when we go tomorrow.’

  ‘We are not going to do that, Elena. Now go to sleep.’

  *

  He locked their door as well, and slept with his pistol by his head. But he half expected Ivkov to come back, and only dozed from time to time. He could only hope the big man had more sense. Because if he did come back, both women would undoubtedly vote for his execution; their experiences of the past few weeks had entirely robbed them of what might have been called feminine charity.

  He wondered if Sandrine would ever again be able to sit at a table on the Champs Élysées, elegantly dressed, knees crossed, sipping a cup of coffee. More to the point, he supposed, he wondered if she would ever be able to get there.

  Suddenly he was awake. There had been a noise, rising above the whine of the wind. It had not disturbed Elena, who was snoring gently; he stretched out his hands to wrap his fingers around the Luger.

  Yet it had been a distant sound, certainly not anyone trying to get into the house. Then Sandrine . . . He sat up. But Ivkov could not possibly know which house she was using. Still, if he was out there . . . Tony eased himself out from beneath the blanket.

  Elena woke up. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To have a look outside.’

  ‘Someone is there?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ He pulled on his pants.

  ‘I will come with you.’

  ‘You stay here. But have your gun ready, and if anyone comes through that door, except Sandrine or me, shoot to kill.’

  She snorted, and he guessed she might have excluded Sandrine from the safe conduct.

  Cautiously he opened the door, right hand holding the gun against his shoulder. There was a lot of cloud, but there was also a full moon. A hunter’s moon, he thought, and reminded himself that he was the hunter.

  He went outside, back against the wall of the house, and looked up and down the street. It appeared deserted, and the door of Sandrine’s house was closed. It must have been a dream, he supposed, and turned to go back inside, then checked as he saw Ivkov.

  Even in the gloom the bath-keeper was instantly recognisable, at once from his size and his movements; he was making no effort at concealment, but was running straight up the centre of the street, panting and staggering.

  Tony stepped away from the shelter of the wall, even as he realised that it could not possibly have been Ivkov’s movements that had awakened him, since the bath-keeper was only just entering the village. He levelled the pistol. ‘Stop right there.’

  Ivkov kept on coming. ‘Germans!’ he panted. ‘Coming up the hill! They will be here in seconds.’

  Chapter Nine – Partisans

  The door behind Tony opened and Elena stepped out. She had dressed herself, and was carrying her pistol, which she now also levelled. ‘Bastard!’ she said. ‘Betrayer!’

  ‘No,’ Ivkov gasped, reaching them and falling to his knees. ‘No. I was resting, down the road, and I heard the noise of their engines.’

  That must be the noise that woke me up, Tony thought. But . . .

  ‘They stopped, half a mile away,’ Ivkov said. ‘And came on foot. When I saw them I returned here as fast as I could. They are right behind me.’

  Tony listened, but there was no sound above the wail of the wind. ‘How many?’

  Ivkov panted. ‘A truckload. A command car. Two motorcycles.’

  Tony made a hasty calculation. Possibly thirty men.

  ‘He betrayed us,’ Elena insisted. ‘Let me shoot him.’

  ‘He would hardly have come to warn us after betraying us,’ Tony pointed out. ‘It was that plane.’

  Sandrine’s door opened, and she stepped out. Predictably she was naked, although she was carrying her tommy-gun. ‘What is happening?’

  ‘Germans. Get some clothes on.’

  ‘What can we do,’ Elena asked.

  ‘Get up the hill.’

  He ran back into the house, gathered up the string of grenades, the spare magazines for the pistols and the spare box for the tommy-gun. He stepped outside again. Elena and Ivkov were still there.

  ‘I told you to get out.’

  ‘I have no gun,’ Ivkov protested.

  ‘So keep your head down. Go, go, go.’

  He could hear voices snapping commands from the other end of the street; the Germans were realising their approach had been discovered.

  Elena ran towards the stream. Ivkov hesitated for a moment, then followed her.

  Tony opened the door of Sandrine’s house; she was just coming out, dressed and still carrying her tommy-gun.

  ‘Quick,’ he said.

  But as he spoke there was a burst of firing . . . from the stream.

  ‘Shit!’ he muttered. The village was surrounded.

  Now he heard the bark of Elena’s Luger, and then a scream. It was high-pitched and terminal, but Tony was sure it had not been Elena.

  ‘Oh, God,’ Sandrine whispered. ‘Oh, God.’

  Boots clattered on the cobbles as men ran up the street towards the sound of the firing. But they were not firing yet; miraculously, they had not yet seen the two people still in the village.

  Tony grabbed Sandrine’s arm and pushed her round the building into the alley at the back of the house. His every instinct was to go towards the sound of the firing, but that would be to die instantly. In any event, the firing had now stopped. Whatever had happened, had happened.

  Sandrine was panting, and tugging against him. ‘Let me go,’ she whispered. ‘I want to shoot them.’

  ‘Don’t you think they’d shoot you back?’ he asked.

  ‘But . . . Elena . . .’

  ‘I know. But getting ourselves killed won’t help her.’

  He held her close. The village was now filled with Germans, but they were only interested in what had happened at the stream. Now an officer spoke, ‘Report!’

  Both Sandrine and Tony spoke fluent German, but it wouldn’t have mattered if they had not: they both recognised the voice. Sandrine made a convulsive effort to get free; Tony had to hug her so hard she gasped with pain.

  ‘We have lost a man, Herr Hauptmann,’ someone said. ‘Shot by this woman.’

  They listened to scrabbling feet and some gasping. Tony gave a sigh of relief. At least Elena appeared to be alive.

  ‘There was also a man, Herr Hauptmann,’ the sergeant said. ‘But
he is dead.’

  Poor Ivkov, Tony thought. After all, he had died a hero, trying to warn them. But Elena . . . Yet surely, Bernhard was a friend . . . or had been a friend.

  He sounded like one now. ‘Elena!’

  ‘You?’

  ‘Well, certainly it is I.’ He had switched to speaking French. ‘Where is Sandrine?’

  Tony felt Sandrine move in his arms.

  ‘She is not here,’ Elena said.

  ‘Well, I can see that. So where is she?’

  ‘She left, yesterday. With Tony. They went to get help.’

  ‘I see. Where did they go?’

  ‘There is a guerilla group, not far from here. Tony and Sandrine went to see if they would take us in.’

  ‘Why should they not take you in? You are all on the run.’

  ‘Because I am a Croat,’ Elena said. ‘The Serbs will not help us.’

  ‘That is true. Did you not know those were Croats you attacked last month?’

  ‘We did not attack Pavelic. He took us prisoner, after killing all the people in this village. We escaped.’

  ‘Killing several of his men in return. You realise that makes you guilty of subversive activities.’

  ‘They were murderers.’

  ‘They were executioners, Elena. And now you have shot one of my men. You understand that that is a capital crime?’

  ‘Your people were shooting at me, so I shot back.’

  ‘That also is a capital crime. Even if you had not hit anyone, it would still have been a capital crime.’

  ‘Then shoot me,’ Elena said.

  ‘I would hate to have to do that. We are old friends, are we not? I would like to be able to help you. I will be able to help you. If you are prepared to help yourself.’

  ‘How am I supposed to do that?’

  ‘By cooperating with us in every way. You will still be guilty of a capital crime, but I can have the death sentence commuted to imprisonment.’

  Elena snorted. ‘How can I cooperate with you?’

  ‘There are many ways,’ Bernhard said. ‘But you can begin by answering a few very simple questions.’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘Firstly, who is the dead man?’

  ‘Ivkov, the bath-keeper from Belgrade.’

  ‘Ah, yes. He escaped with you, and brought you here, to his Communist brother.’

  ‘Yes. He said we would be sheltered here. And we were, until Pavelic and his people came along.’