Page 94 of Atlas: The Story of Pa Salt

‘Please, sir,’ said the girl, ‘do not tell anyone you have seen us. I don’t want them to come for us again.’

‘Claudia!’ the boy chastised her.

‘It’s all right,’ I soothed. ‘Claudia? Is that your name?’ The girl nodded meekly. ‘It’s a very nice name.’ I turned to the boy. ‘And can I ask what your name is, young man?’ He shook his head, and I shrugged. ‘Very well. My name is Atlas. Can I ask what you meant when you said that you don’t want “them to come for us again”? Who are “they”?’

‘The bad men,’ Claudia replied.

‘The bad men?’ I repeated. ‘Do you mean the soldiers?’ Claudia nodded. I was beginning to understand. ‘Have you come from Germany?’

‘Yes,’ said the boy.

I looked at him with enormous sympathy. ‘Did you escape from one of their camps?’ The boy nodded. I knelt down to meet the children’s eye level. ‘I assure you, I am not one of them, I promise. I am a friend.’ The boy sighed, and gave me a nod. ‘How old are you?’

‘I am eleven,’ he replied. ‘My sister is seven.’

‘That’s very young to be out here on your own – take it from one who knows. How long have you been alone?’

He shrugged. ‘I am not sure. I think nearly fifty nights. Andwe are not alone.’ He put his arm around his sister and looked defiant. ‘We have each other.’

‘Of course,’ I said. ‘And that is wonderful.’ I knew these two innocent souls had probably experienced horrors beyond my comprehension, and I tried to pick my words carefully. ‘Might I ask how you came to be here?’

The boy cast his eyes to the ground. Very sweetly, his sister held his hand. ‘Our mother distracted one of the guards, and we climbed under a piece of fence. We...’ The boy tried to continue, but was too choked. Claudia spoke instead.

‘We didn’t want to leave, but Mother said we had to,’ she mumbled softly. ‘After what they did to Daddy.’

My heart broke for the children. In their short time on earth, they had experienced the worst of humanity. If anyone could understand their pain, it was me. ‘You won’t know this, as you’ve been here for so long, but I have some news for you. The war is over. The camps, like the one you escaped from, are being liberated. I can help you find your mother,’ I told them gently.

The boy shook his head. ‘No, sir, you cannot. She gave her life for us. We heard the gunshots as we climbed under the fence. Then we ran. Mother told us to get to Switzerland because it was safe. So I took Claudia and did my best,’ he sobbed.

Very slowly, I put a hand on his shoulder. ‘I cannot tell you how sorry I am. I lost my parents when I was a child too. But remember’ – I tapped my chest – ‘they are alive in here, always.’ The boy looked into my eyes. ‘You have kept your sister safe. Your mother, wherever she is, is enormously proud.’ I had a thought. ‘You must be very hungry.’ I reached into my trouser pocket and produced a packet of peanuts I had left over from the train journey. ‘Here.’ The boy took the bag gratefully, and began to share the contents with his sister. ‘How did you end up on this peninsula?’ I asked.

‘We stole a boat from the other side of the lake and driftedhere,’ he explained between mouthfuls. ‘We climbed out with our belongings, and in the morning the boat had drifted away.’

My eyes widened. ‘So you’ve been stranded? How terrible.’

The boy shrugged. ‘Boats have passed often, but we dare not signal them in case they returned us to the camp.’

I rubbed my eyes at the storm of misfortune which had befallen the children. ‘Of course. What have you done for food?’

The boy poured out the last of the peanuts and gave the lion’s share to his sister. ‘I can fish, but I don’t catch too much. We’ve tried a lot of berries. One plant made us very sick.’

I knew I had to get the pair to civilisation as quickly as I could. They needed the care of doctors and warm beds to sleep in. ‘I know that we’ve only just met,’ I began tentatively, ‘but would you come with me in my boat? I’m going back to the city. I know people that can help.’

The boy froze. ‘How do we know we can trust you?’

I contemplated his question. ‘You are quite right to ask... but I am unable to give you a satisfactory answer.’ I furrowed my brow in frustration. ‘I do not have a newspaper with me, so I am unable to prove that the war in Europe is over. I can show you these, though.’ I produced my British passport and identity card, and handed them to the boy.

‘British?’ He took a step back. ‘I thought you said you were Swiss.’

‘Ah.’ I cursed myself internally. ‘Yes. Well observed. You are clearly very clever.’ I gave him a nervous grin. ‘My father was Swiss. I’m actually here to inherit my grandmother’s estate.’ A lightbulb went on in my head. ‘I have a letter from her. Can you read any French?’

‘A little,’ replied the boy, his eyes narrowed.

I handed him Agatha’s letter. ‘Please, read it.’ I sat cross-legged on the ground. If you need help with any of the words, just ask.’ I smiled. The boy retreated ten yards or so and sat downopposite me, alongside his sister. He slowly made his way through the letter, and after five minutes or so, he stood up.

‘All right,’ said the boy. ‘We will come with you.’

Claudia’s little face lit up. ‘Really?’ she asked her brother. He nodded at her.