“Why do you think it hasn’t come?” she asked Max.
“Postal delay,” said Max indistinctly through a mouthful of bread. “Bye!” and he rushed to catch his train.
“I daresay it’ll come this afternoon,” said Herr Zwirn.
But she worried about it all day at school and sat chewing her pencil instead of writing a description of the sunrise in the mountains.
“What’s the matter with you?” said Herr Graupe. (She usually wrote the best compositions in the class.) “It was beautiful. You should have been inspired by the experience!” And he walked away, personally offended by her lack of response to his sunrise.
There was still no postcard when she came home from school, nor was there anything in the last post at seven o’clock. It was the first time that Mama and Papa had not written. Anna managed to get through supper thinking cool thoughts about postal delays, but once she was in bed with the light out all the terror of the previous night came flooding back with such force that she felt almost choked by it. She tried to remember that she was a Jew and must not be frightened, otherwise the Nazis would say that all Jews were cowards – but it was no use. She kept seeing the room with the strange ceiling and the terrible rain of coins coming down on Papa’s head. Even though she shut her eyes and buried her face in the pillow she could still see it.
She must have been making some noise in bed for Max suddenly said, “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” said Anna, but even as she said it she could feel something like a small explosion making its way up from her stomach towards her throat, and suddenly she was sobbing, “Papa …Papa …” and Max was sitting on her bed and patting her arm.
“Oh, you idiot!” he said when she had explained her fears. “Don’t you know what is meant by a price on someone’s head?”
“Not …not what I thought?” said Anna.
“No,” said Max. “Not at all what you thought. Putting a price on a person’s head means offering a reward to anyone who captures that person.”
“There you are!” wailed Anna. “The Nazis are trying to get Papa!”
“Well, in a way,” said Max. “But Herr Zwirn doesn’t think it’s very serious – after all there’s not much they can do about it as Papa isn’t in Germany.”
“You think he’s all right?”
“Of course he’s all right. We’ll have a postcard in the morning.”
“But supposing they sent someone after him in France – a kidnapper or someone like that?”
“Then Papa would have the whole of the French police force to protect him.” Max assumed what he imagined to be a French accent. “Go away, pleeze. Ees not allowed to keednap in France. We chop off your head with the guillotine, no?”
He was such an awful mimic that Anna had to laugh and Max looked surprised at his success.
“Better go to sleep now,” he said, and she was so tired that very soon she did.
In the morning instead of a postcard they had a long letter. Mama and Papa had decided that they should all live in Paris together and Papa was coming to collect them.
“Papa,” said Anna after the first excitement of seeing him safe and sound had worn off. “Papa, I was a bit upset when I heard about the price on your head.”
“So was I!” said Papa. “Very upset.”
“Were you?” asked Anna, surprised. Papa had always seemed so brave.
“Well, it’s such a very small price,” explained Papa. “A thousand marks goes nowhere these days. I think I’m worth a lot more, don’t you?”
“Yes,” said Anna, feeling better.
“No self-respecting kidnapper would touch it,” said Papa. He shook his head sadly. “I’ve a good mind to write to Hitler and complain!”
Frau Zwirn packed the children’s clothes. They said goodbye to their friends and their teachers at school and then they were ready to leave Switzerland for their new life in France. But it wasn’t a bit like leaving Berlin, said Anna, because they would be able to come back and see everyone at the Gasthof Zwirn any time they liked, and Herr Zwirn had already invited them for next summer. They were to live in a furnished flat in Paris which Mama was busy now getting ready. What was it like? Max wanted to know. Papa thought for a moment. If you stood on the balcony, he said at last, you could see the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe both at the same time – these were famous Paris landmarks. But beyond this he seemed unable to remember much about it. It was a pity, thought the children, that Papa was sometimes so vague about practical matters. But the fact that the flat had a balcony made it sound rather grand.
The journey to Paris took the whole day and they almost did not get there at all. They had no trouble until Basle, but there they had to change trains because Basle is the frontier between Switzerland, France and Germany. Owing to some delay on the line they arrived very late and only had a few minutes to catch their Paris connection.
“We’ll have to be very quick,” said Papa as the train drew into the station.
Luckily there was a porter immediately at hand. He grabbed their luggage and flung it on to his wheelbarrow.
“The Paris train! Hurry!” cried Papa and the porter set off at a gallop with them all running behind him. Anna had trouble keeping the porter in sight as he turned and twisted through the crowds of people, and Max and Papa were already helping him to heave the luggage aboard the other train when she caught up with them. She stood for a moment, getting her breath back. The train must be just about to leave, for all along it people were leaning out of the windows saying goodbye to their friends on the platform. Immediately beside her a young man seemed in danger of falling right out as he gave his girlfriend a passionate farewell embrace.
“Go on with you!” said the girl and gave him a little push back into the train. As he straightened up, the bottom of the window came into view. There was a printed notice stuck on it. It read STUTTGART.
“Papa!” screamed Anna. “This is the wrong train! It’s going to Germany!”
“Good God!” said Papa. “Get the luggage off, quick!”
He and Max dragged the suitcases off again as fast as they could. Then they heard the whistle.
“Never mind!” shouted Papa and pulled Max back, even though there was a suitcase still left on the train.
“That’s our case!” shouted Max. “Please give us our case!” and just as the carriage began to move the young man with the girlfriend kindly pushed it on to the platform for them. It landed at Anna’s feet and they stood there, with luggage littered all round them, and watched the train steam out of the station.
“I clearly told you the Paris train!” said Papa, angrily looking round for the porter. But there was no sign of him. He had disappeared.
“If we’d got on that train,” asked Anna, “would we have been able to get off before it got to Germany?”
“Possibly,” said Papa. “If we’d realized it was the wrong train.” He put an arm round her shoulders. “I’m certainly very glad you noticed before we ever got on it.”
It took some time to find another porter and Papa was sure they had missed the Paris connection, but in fact they caught it with time to spare. Its departure time had been put back to fit in with the delay on the Swiss line. It was odd that the