The Diplomat's Wife(71)
Renata stares at me. “You know that you might get stuck here?” I nod. “And that if the embassy closes, there will be no one to help you?”
“I understand.”
Renata exhales sharply. “You are nervy, I’ll give you that. What about after your meeting with Marcelitis? I mean, will you leave then?”
“Yes. Right away.”
“There is one other possible option, but I didn’t want to mention it because I was hoping you would be smart and get on the plane with the others. If we leave right after your meeting, I can try to drive you to the Austrian border, and help you to talk your way across on your diplomatic passport. You can pick up a train to Vienna from there. I can’t promise anything. It would be very dangerous, and I’m not certain it would work.”
“We’ll have to try. It’s our only hope.”
“I really wish you would reconsider and come to the embassy now.”
I shake my head. “I still have to meet Marcelitis.”
“Alone again, I take it?”
“Yes.”
“You know I could insist that you get on that plane,” Renata says.
“Get the embassy guards, or even the police.”
“I know. But I also know that you won’t, because you understand why I am doing this.”
“So,” she says slowly. “I’ll say I came here looking for you, but the room was empty. I’ll go to the embassy and tell them that I couldn’t find you in time for the flight. But immediately after your meeting with Marcelitis tonight, you are to meet me. Come off the bridge, turn left on Krizovnicka Street and walk to Platnerska, the first major intersection. You will see an archway beside an antique store. I will be waiting with the car parked there, out of sight. Be there by twelve-thirty,” she adds. “No later. We need to make sure we can reach the border by dawn, even if we are detoured. Do you understand?”
“So I should pack my things and take them with me?”
“Only your passport and essential papers. You need to leave everything else behind. That way it looks like you are still here if the police come looking for you.”
A chill shoots up my spine. “I don’t understand. Why would they do that?”
Renata walks toward me and takes me by both shoulders. “The whole world changed tonight, Marta. Now that the communists have secured power here, people are going to start talking. There could be leaks from the embassy, from the anticommunist movement, anywhere. That’s why I wanted you to leave with the embassy flight. Things have become extraordinarily dangerous for all of us. There is no guarantee to safe passage if you stay. Do you understand?”
I swallow hard. “Y-yes.”
“But you haven’t changed your mind, have you?” I stare at her unblinkingly. “I didn’t think so. Then get dressed and prepare for your meeting. I’ll be waiting for you afterward.” She walks to the door and then turns back again. “Be careful leaving the hotel. The police are everywhere.”
“I know.” I gesture toward the window with my head.
“And they’ve imposed a ten o’clock curfew, which you’ll be breaking. You need to take the back stairs to avoid attracting attention.” She opens the door and looks both ways out into the hallway. “Be careful,” she mouths as she backs out of the room. “And good luck.” Then she turns and races down the hallway.
CHAPTER 19
At eleven-fifteen, I stand in the doorway surveying the hotel room as I have left it. My suitcase is open and my nightgown lies strewn across the bed. The lamp on the dresser burns bright yellow. To anyone who might come in while I am gone, it looks as though I will be back shortly. I clutch my purse, containing the papers for Marcelitis and my passport, as I open the door. Checking to ensure the hallway is deserted, I slip from the room.
I make my way down the back steps into the alley. The hotel door closes behind me with a click. Remembering the rats last night, I move swiftly to the end of the alley and peer out into the street, which appears deserted. Taking a deep breath, I begin walking toward the river, hugging the shadows of the buildings, trying to quiet the soles of my shoes as they scrape against the pavement.
Earlier, as I closed the door behind Renata and leaned against it, my heart pounded. What had I done? The notion of being trapped here, unable to leave, terrified me worse than anything. I fought the urge to run after Renata, to tell her I would fly out immediately with the convoy of other foreigners. Then I steeled myself: this might be the only chance for us to reach Marcelitis. I could not quit so close to succeeding. Resolved, I finished dressing, paced the room until it was time to leave. But now, as I creep through the dark streets of the Old Town, I cannot help but wonder once more if staying had been a mistake.
I make my way down one cobblestone street, then another, until at last I reach the river. High on the far bank sits Prague Castle, its turrets bathed in golden light. The Charles Bridge arches gently across the river, connecting the Old Town with the Mala Strana, or Lesser Quarter. Statues of saints, illuminated by the moonlight, rise from the low walls that flank both sides of the bridge.
I approach the base of the bridge, then pause, shivering as I remember lying on the Kraków railway bridge, the Kommandant’s lifeless body beside me. There was another bridge, too, I remind myself, pushing the image from my mind. Paris. I see the Pont Neuf, remember Paul’s warmth against my back, his arms around me as we gazed at the Eiffel Tower. From the far bank of the river, cathedral bells begin to chime midnight. Forcing the memories from my mind, I scan the length of the deserted bridge. Emma had not said where the rendezvous was to take place, and if I cross, someone might see me. But I cannot risk missing Marcelitis. I step from the safety of the shadows, begin walking low across the bridge. The saints look down solemnly on me, their silhouettes cool white against the night sky.