Ruth Boswell - A Faraway Country

Czechoslovakia, September 1938

The doll stared at him through the plate glass window. She had blue eyes that opened and closed, long eyelashes, platinum hair wound round her head in long plaits and a pouting mouth. Dressed in a red dirndl skirt, a yellow embroidered blouse and white socks she was the embodiment of Heinzs desires.

How much would she cost? This was the most expensive toy shop in Schcker Strasse, Reichenbergs main shopping street. He had passed it frequently but had never before ventured inside. He pushed the glass door and went in. The shop girl welcomed him with a smile.

Can I help you?

The doll in the window. Can I look at her?

The girl fetched her and sat her on the counter.

She only came in yesterday.

He asked the price. 100 koruny. Too much, he knew it was too much but as he hadnt been home for over a week he wanted to give Anna a special present.

Is this for your daughter? The shop girl asked.

He looked round to see if anyone was within earshot, hesitated, then said,

No, my niece. Its her birthday.

How old is she?

Nine.

What a good uncle you are. This is a lovely present.

It was an outrageous present with no special occasion to justify it. Nevertheless, Heinz counted out the money, watched the girl wrap the doll in tissue paper, place her in a lined cardboard box it even had a pillow for her head - and wrap it in pink paper with a bow on top.

There.

Thank you.

She watched him go.

How many marks for that one? her colleague asked.

Ten out of ten! Juicy. I wonder where he lives.

Reichenbergs Aldstdter Square where Heinz had parked his red Tatra coup, was dominated by an ornate town hall, an exercise in gothic extravagance built to subdue and impress its inhabitants. Nearby were the opera house, a synagogue, cafs and pubs at which citizens congregated to indulge in local gossip and discuss political events. Of these, there was no shortage. The country was in turmoil over Hitlers demand to annex the Sudetenland and separate it from Czechoslovakia.

Heinzs office was within walking distance of the Square, a short way downhill to Reitergasse. Here he picked up some papers - he was hoping to drum up more business in Prague nodded at a couple of acquaintances, returned to the square, placed the doll in the boot of the car and drove through the town.

He was pleased with his purchase though Sara, he knew, would disapprove, accusing him of buying Annas love to make up for being away for much of the week. He reckoned she was complaining on her own behalf, but reality had to be faced. His insurance company relied on rich clients. There were plenty in Reichenberg if one had the right contacts.

The Tatra cruised through the town towards the river and through the industrial quarter. Textile, glass and light industry had provided wealth and work though, since the depression in the early thirties, unemployment had been rife and the area had grown shabby. Now, Heinz realised with an uplift of spirits, the prospect of a German takeover had restored confidence. Better times were ahead and this, in turn, would boost business.

The drive to Prague normally took ninety minutes but today the road was blocked with army lorries, tanks and marching infantry. The Czechs were in fighting mode. How ridiculous this was, Heinz thought, as he stopped to let convoys pass. Why didnt President Bene capitulate instead of letting the crisis drag on? That the Germans would get international agreement to take over was only a matter of time. The alternative was war.

It took him almost three hours to reach Pragues suburbs and here too he was delayed, imprisoned between crumbling grey tenements, stark reminders of his early childhood when the city was still part of the Austro-Hungarian empire. To people he didnt know intimately he liked to pretend that his upbringing was of the respectable variety in good bourgeois tradition but the reality was that the family had been working class Jewish with a constant struggle to make ends meet. But at least life had been simple. With only one master, Emperor Franz Joseph, to serve, their loyalties had been undivided, their only language German. He remembered vividly the changeover after the war when the victorious allies decided at Versailles to dissect bits of Austria, Hungary, Poland, Ruthenia and glue them together with the Czechs and Slovaks into a new country called Czechoslovakia and what a muddle that had created. The present crisis was the result.

The threat of war was everywhere evident. Lorries were dumping sandbags on pavements and groups of Czech refugees, driven out of the Sudetenland by its German inhabitants, crowded the streets, looking lost. Blowing his horn to make them move out of the way, he wove his way past Wilsonovo Station and uphill to the Vinohrady district, a respectable residential quarter with wide streets and solidly built blocks of flats built in the last century for a prosperous middle class. Heinz turned into vihanka and parked the car outside No 1. Only a few kids were roaming the street and playing in Riegrovy Park which lay like a green pasture at its end. He looked round with a satisfied air. Sara could complain about his absence, but he had set her up comfortably.

Holding his parcel under his arm, he raced upstairs to the fourth floor, let himself into his flat and listened for a moment to voices coming from the sitting room. Nodding with satisfaction he threw his hat with a practised hand onto the hat stand and shouted at Julie, the Czech maid, for coffee. Then he went in.

Sara was entertaining a friend, Rachel, coffee and biscuits on a low table between them. Sara looked up in surprise. She was an attractive woman in her prime thirties, dark eyed, with thick brown hair. She had chosen a plain blue frock with a white collar for the afternoon, it set off her slim figure; but it was Rachel who caught Heinzs eye, her blonde hair accentuated by a bright yellow outfit.