Part 12 (2/2)

'That ice looks thick,' said Bruno, and Ja.n.u.sz watched to see if Franek could be that easily distracted.

'It's solid here, but further out it's thinner,' replied Ambrose. 'This lake never freezes over completely. It has weak spots.'

Franek walked out onto the edge of the lake. 'Look at this,' he laughed. 'Look at the dogs.'

They all laughed. Each dog was trying to run on the ice beside Franek, claws scratching for a grip as they flipped onto their sides and slid along on their bellies.

Ambrose lifted his hand for silence. 'Shhh. Deer. Over there. In the trees.'

He raised his rifle.

Franek hurried off the ice, pulling his rifle off his shoulder. He and Bruno c.o.c.ked their guns and waited. Ja.n.u.sz didn't move. He had never enjoyed hunting. He didn't want to shoot anything.

The men fell silent, their breath steaming in front of them. Ja.n.u.sz looked at them all, guns lifted, red cheeks, the sparkle of frost on their eyelashes. What if they stopped travelling? What if they came to a rest right here in this snow-covered world and waited until the war was over? Surely they could hide up here?

Ambrose sighed loudly. He lowered his gun and put the safety catch on. 'No. I heard them but I can't see them.'

Bruno did the same. He coughed as the tension left the small group and began stamping his feet, as if he had grown stiff standing motionless for too long.

'I haven't eaten venison for a long time,' he said.

'I've venison sausages back at the house,' said Ambrose. 'The trick is to make them with plenty of paprika.'

Ja.n.u.sz rubbed his hands together. 'They sound delicious. And I'm starving.'

'Those deer are around here somewhere,' said Franek. He still held his gun, c.o.c.ked, ready to shoot.

'It's not safe hunting in this fog,' said Ja.n.u.sz, wondering when they could get back and eat the sausages.

Franek balanced his gun on his shoulder, broke a small branch from a tree and threw it onto the ice for the dogs to retrieve. The big orange-coloured hound ran for it. It turned with the stick in its mouth and slipped and slid onto its side.

Everything happened very quickly after that. Ja.n.u.sz saw the dog floundering, trying to get up, and then he heard the ice creak and groan, and watched in horror as the dog fell through a small gap into the lake.

'Burek!' called Ambrose. 'Burek, you stupid dog!'

Ambrose pulled his backpack off his shoulders and stepped out onto the frozen lake, lowering himself quickly onto his belly and sliding out across the ice.

'We need to smash the ice!' he yelled. 'Get the dog out from under it.'

'I'll get him!' yelled Franek. Ja.n.u.sz saw the excitement in Franek's eyes, the determination in the way he ran out onto the lake, past Ambrose.

'No!' Bruno shouted. 'Get off the ice! It's not safe!'

'Burek!' yelled Franek. 'Burek! He's here! I can see him. I can get him out.'

Franek hammered the ice with the b.u.t.t of his rifle. He struck it hard twice, maybe three times. As he did so, a shot rang out and a flock of black crows in the treetops rose into the air. The gun sounded again and Franek fell to the ground, his body twisting. Ambrose slid along the ice beside him, sank his arm into the hole that had appeared and pulled the orange dog out of the water.

Something caught Ja.n.u.sz's eye, a movement behind him, and he turned. Four red deer, their breath smoking in front of them, broke into the open, cantering past into the snowy woodland. Ja.n.u.sz watched them go. When he looked back at the lake, Franek lay motionless, his discharged rifle beside him, a red pool of blood spreading across the ice.

Ipswich

Carrying her laden shopping bags, Silvana crosses the road at the tram station, walking through one busy street and then another until she finds herself outside Tony's pet shop. She hesitates. What is she going to say to him? She doesn't even know why she is there except that he asked her and she said yes. She pushes opens the door, stepping into a cacophony of birdsong. The place smells of wood shavings and disinfectant, and Silvana tries not to cough as she breathes in the warm air.

It really is an emporium. There are puppies asleep on straw in cages, kittens, rabbits, even ducks and chickens. White mice scurry in large wire-meshed cages, and a whole wall is given over to an aviary filled with noisy parrots, canaries, budgerigars and thumb-sized zebra finches. Further into the shop she sees dark tanks of fish, flashes of rainbows and oranges and golds flitting in and out of shadowy waters.

'I can get you any pet you want,' says Tony. She looks up and sees him standing behind a wooden counter smiling at her, and feels glad she came. His face is full of pleasure and she can't help but feel flattered. He looks genuinely delighted to see her.

'What would you like?' asks Tony, coming out from behind the counter. 'A chinchilla? A tortoise? I supply zoos and circuses. An elephant for your son to ride to school on? A Suffolk ewe, a Norfolk ram?'

'I was pa.s.sing,' Silvana says, putting down her bags and taking off her gloves, 'and I thought I would like to see the animals.'

Tony gives her a kitten to hold, then a white mouse that tries to run up her sleeve. After that he puts a small black rabbit in the palm of her hand.

'You can have him as a gift. He likes you.'

'He's lovely,' Silvana says. 'But I would have to pay you for it.'

'Ah, well, this one is not for sale. It's only available as a gift.'

She frowns at him, unsure of what to say. Is he laughing at her?

He leads her further into the shop, past aisles of dog biscuits and birdseed and bins of leathery treats for dogs to chew.

Silvana looks down at a large wooden crate beside her. It is full of yellowed bones. She tries to look away but she can't; the bones have her attention. They call to her, all the polished ball and socket joints, the roughened shanks and nubbed ends. Piles of them, all around her. Her legs wobble underneath her.

'They're gruesome-looking, aren't they?' says Tony cheerfully. 'Horses' bones mainly.' He lifts one out of the bin and then drops it back with the others, catching hold of her as she staggers sideways. 'Oh my G.o.d, I'm sorry. Are you all right?'

'I need some air. I think it's too hot in here.'

Tony takes her arm and leads her through the back of the shop to a door. He pushes it open and hurries her out into a small yard.

'But you look terrible. I'm so sorry.'

Silvana gulps clean air and steadies herself.

'I have to keep the place warm for the animals,' says Tony. 'Was it the bones? I'm sorry. I'm such a fool. I should have thought.'

'Thought of what?' says Silvana, mopping her forehead with a handkerchief.

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