Safe, page 1
SAFE
Vanessa Harbour
To
my siblings:
Penny, Sue, Jacky and Nick
For being the best big sisters and brother ever and for putting up with me!
Author note: Kizzy knows which mushrooms are safe because she was taught to forage by her papa and taught herbal medicine by her mama. Do not eat or drink wild mushrooms or any wild or garden plants unless an adult has told you they are safe. There are many poisonous mushrooms and plants. Please be safe.
Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Lost/Displaced Children
Useful Websites
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Copyright
Chapter 1
‘Ouch!’ Kizzy looked at the bubble of red blood oozing from the tip of her thumb.
‘Don’t get any blood on the white material!’ The countess’s hawk eyes spotted her mistake. ‘It’ll be a devil to get out. Stop looking out of the window, Kizzy. Focus. Make the stitches neat and the smaller the better.’
Kizzy sighed but couldn’t help glancing outside again. In the distance, she could see Jakob having a riding lesson on Raluca with the director of the riding school and Heinz, their guardian. Jakob was working hard towards his dream of being a professional rider. All she wanted was to be out there too, but the countess had her trapped inside, in a room full of delicate, breakable things, making her sit still, with her back straight and her legs just so. Everything Kizzy, who’d spent most of her thirteen years living outside, detested.
Looking back down at her embroidery, she focused on not stabbing herself again with the needle. She twisted the hoop, stretching the material taut. It was no good. Even squinting, her mess of lumpy stitches just did not look like the robin in the book. Not even vaguely. Kizzy let out yet another deep sigh.
‘What music is playing, Kizzy?’ the countess asked.
Kizzy jumped. Sweat trickled down her back. She hated these spot tests. It was all part of giving her the skills any other ‘suitable young lady’ would take for granted.
She strained to listen to the notes bouncing around the room. She’d never come across a gramophone until she’d come here. Her Roma parents didn’t have one in their horse-drawn caravan. She stared at the spinning disc for inspiration.
‘Well?’
Her pulse thumped in her neck.
‘Um … is it Chikofsky? The ballet that you told me about: Sleeping Beauty?’
The countess sighed. ‘It is Sleeping Beauty, yes. But it is Tchaikovsky. Do try to pronounce these things properly, my dear.’ Her mouth formed the cat’s bum shape of disapproval she always did when Kizzy got things wrong. ‘You need to concentrate harder if you’re going to find a man to marry you. No girl survives on her own, you know.’ The countess tapped her fingers on the arms of her chair. Everything about her was just so, from her feet to her hair.
Kizzy’s insides bubbled with frustration. She’d survived on her own for over a year, living on the food she’d caught and foraged, hiding, until she’d met Jakob and Heinz. She knew the countess was very generous taking the three of them in when she’d already welcomed the Spanish Riding School and its director to her Schloss in Sankt Martin. They were free to be themselves here, to ride, except… She pulled at her stiff, starched white collar.
‘Don’t get blood on your shirt!’
Kizzy closed her eyes, trying to slow her breathing. Her leg shook up and down.
Unfortunately, the countess moved on to her favourite subject.
‘You need to forget about this ridiculous horse-riding nonsense. You can ride occasionally. As long as it’s sidesaddle, of course. A lady must know how to ride. But you can’t help in the stables. That’s most unladylike.’
Words started to explode in her head.
No!
No!
No!
No!
No!
No!
No more!
Chucking her embroidery on the floor, she ran out of the room, banging into the door as she left.
The countess shouting, ‘Kizzy, come back now!’
No. The room was suffocating her. She had to get out.
She ran and ran − past some of the American soldiers, who looked at her aghast. ‘Kizzy, what’s the matter?’ they shouted after her.
She didn’t answer. There was only one place she wanted to be.
Racing past the Spanish School Riders, she ran through the stables until she found her safe place.
With the Lipizzaner stallion, Pluto.
She threw her arms around his neck, sobbing and shaking with anger. Taking a deep breath, she smelt her favourite smell. Sweet hay and horse dung.
‘Oh Pluto, what am I going to do?’
The horse leaned into her, nickering quietly. He dropped his head down. It felt like the hug she so badly needed. They stood together, not moving, as he let her cry it out.
‘Kizzy?’ a voice whispered.
She couldn’t turn around.
A hand touched her shoulder and gently pulled her back.
‘What’s happened?’ It was her best friend, Jakob. His mop of hair flopped so far over his eyes, she knew Heinz would be telling him to get it cut soon.
She took a gulping breath. ‘I don’t want to be a lady!’
Jakob roared with laughter.
She lightly punched his shoulder. ‘Don’t laugh at me.’
‘Well, you should see your face!’ He handed her a hankie. ‘You’re covered in snot and have a dirty mark just here.’ Jakob wiped her cheek gently with his thumb. ‘We both know you’ll never be a lady. Don’t worry about it.’
After giving her nose a good blow, she turned back to Pluto, reaching up and stroking the soft, warm fur just under his mane. This was her favourite thing to do – so comforting. His rose-grey coat was getting paler every day and it wouldn’t be long until he was pure white like the other stallions.
‘Would you tell that to the countess, please?’ Kizzy looked back at her friend. ‘Seriously, Jakob, I know she means well, but all the music, the walking up and down with a book on my head, the embroidering…’ She showed him her bruised and scabbed thumb. ‘And the clothes … oh, the clothes!’
She stepped back so Jakob could have a good look at her. ‘Who wears these things?’ She pointed to the starched white shirt, neat cardigan and skirt, her long white socks. ‘Who?’
Pluto snuffled at her side, pushing her slightly with his muzzle.
Jakob hesitated, shrugging slightly. ‘Young ladies?’
Kizzy stared at him, every part of her body fuming.
Their guardian, Heinz, came in and interrupted them. ‘What’s going on here?’ He looked at Kizzy and raised his eyebrows. ‘What happened? I thought you were with the countess?’
Kizzy looked at them both: Heinz and Jakob, who had found her in the forest when they’d been coming here to the Schloss with their horses. She’d been alone and they had accepted her, shared everything with her, brought her here with them and helped her find a home.
They were her family. If she ran away from the countess, she’d have to leave them both.
But if she didn’t, if she stayed, could she bear it?
Chapter 2
Kizzy let her head droop; she knew she’d been ungrateful and let Heinz down by running off.
Jakob stepped in, trying to protect his friend as always. ‘She needed a bit of a break…’
Heinz sighed. ‘Hmm, I never can get used to you in that skirt thing. That’s not my Kizzy.’
Kizzy looked up and smiled, her eyes wet. He pulled her into a hug.
‘Yes, but it’s what the countess wants,’ she mumbled into his chest.
His grey beard prickled her forehead, but she didn’t care. She felt safe here in his arms, fitting just under his chin. Heinz wasn’t someone to give hugs often, but he had a knack for knowing exactly when they were needed. He squeezed her tight.
‘I’ve my own thoughts about that, but I’ll keep them to myself as we are guests in her home.’ He pushed Kizzy back slightly. ‘I was going to make young Jakob here do some mucking out. You up for that too?’
She grinned.
Heinz stroked away her tears with his hankie. ‘Good to hear it. I’ll get you a shovel.’ His face turned serious. ‘Kizzy, she’s trying to do the best by you, you know that, don’t you? It’s not a punishment.’
&n bsp; Her heart sunk. ‘I know. It’s just…’
Heinz squeezed her shoulders. She felt he could see into her soul. ‘I do understand…’
‘Did I hear I’ve got company with the poo-shovelling?’ She hadn’t noticed Jakob quietly disappear. Now he reappeared brandishing two shovels and chuckling. He thrust one towards her. ‘Here you go!’
She smiled. ‘Thank you. Shall I start with Pluto’s stall?’
Their guardian got the wheelbarrow and placed it in the middle of the stalls so the two children could fill it. ‘There you go.’
As they started work, Kizzy noticed Heinz watching them both, leaning on the stick he still needed because of his limp, a reminder of when he broke his leg on their journey here. He half-smiled when he caught her looking. ‘Come on, get on with it!’
In the stall, Pluto was up to his normal tricks. He reached over and started to tug at her cardigan with his teeth. She pulled it back.
‘Don’t do that. Can you imagine what the countess would say if she saw you?’
The stallion pushed at her with his head, blowing at her.
‘You’re not helping me. I’ll take you outside in a minute if you’re not careful.’ Kizzy scratched his neck again before getting on with the job.
Taking her next shovel-load out to the wheelbarrow, she heard another familiar voice. ‘Is that who I think it? Is she supposed to be mucking out, and in those clothes? Heinz?’
It was the director of the Spanish Riding School, Alois Podhajsky, striding into the stables in his uniform.
‘Yes, it is and I’m just letting her help.’
Kizzy saw the director raise his eyebrows. He glanced over at Kizzy before walking back out. ‘I’m saying nothing, but I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes when the countess finds out.’
She stopped. ‘Should I go? I don’t want to get you into trouble.’
Heinz shook his head. ‘And leave a job half done? I don’t think so. Come on, get on with it.’ He picked up the wheelbarrow and went to empty it. ‘Don’t worry, I can deal with the countess.’
‘Happy?’ asked Jakob, leaning on his shovel.
‘Yes,’ Kizzy said. Then her good mood faded. ‘But the director is right. The countess is going to be furious.’
Glancing around the stables, she said, ‘This can’t be my life, not anymore, Jakob. I doubt I’ll be allowed near the stables ever again if the countess has her way.’ Her voice cracked slightly. ‘It’s your life and your dream, as it should be.’ She smiled at him. ‘I saw you riding from the window. You looked amazing.’
He blushed. Kizzy always loved his modesty. Jakob had no idea what a natural, intuitive rider he was. He and his horse became one when he was riding. It was magical to watch.
Heinz returned with the wheelbarrow. ‘Stop slacking, you two.’
The two friends spent the next few hours working in companionable silence, as they moved around the stalls.
‘All done, Heinz,’ shouted Jakob.
Kizzy stretched her arms up and made her back click. She felt so content.
Heinz took one look at her and laughed. ‘Oops! I think you better clean yourself up. It’ll be time to eat.’
‘Is it that bad?’ she asked, brushing at her face and hair, finding the odd strand of straw and hay.
‘You’ll see.’ Heinz winked at her. ‘Go on, off you go. Thank you for your help. You too, Jakob.’
Kizzy said, ‘Jakob, can we sneak round the back?’
He nodded. ‘Race you!’ he shouted, but too late. Kizzy had already got a head start. She knew him too well. They were both so competitive. The pair charged around the side of the building, American soldiers waving at them as they went.
‘I win!’ Kizzy shouted, as she touched the back door first. Jakob was only moments behind. They both stopped, huffing and puffing. She bent forward and put her hands on her knees. ‘That was close. You’d have beaten me if it’d been any longer. I was lucky.’
Jakob glanced at her, his face red and sweaty, his eyebrows raised, laughing. ‘Don’t be daft. You’re much faster than me, Kizzy.’
She pulled a face at him.
Opening the door, she whispered, ‘I need to clean up before the countess sees me.’ She glanced at her hands. They were filthy.
Jakob nodded. ‘We’d better use the servants’ stairs. Less chance of being caught.’
Kizzy smiled. Jakob always understood. She would always mourn for her real brother, killed by the Gestapo, but Jakob had become as dear as a brother to her.
The two children crept in, up the stairs and to their rooms.
‘Make sure you do your face.’ Jakob pointed to his cheek.
She shut herself in her room and looked into the mirror, and could see why Jakob had gestured to her face. Streaks of dirt crisscrossed her cheeks. Despite herself, she smiled. Kizzy knew she shouldn’t, but she loved being with the horses and never worried about mucking out. To her, it was a good way to understand your horse. To make friends with them.
Kizzy brushed her hair, picking out any strands of hay and straw. She hated it long.
She hesitated, staring at the girl in the mirror. Who was she?
Shaking her head, she muttered, ‘You can’t think like that.’
Kizzy tied one of the red ribbons that the countess had given her in her hair. Hopefully, that would please her. Sighing, she left her room and headed down the main stairs.
Jakob was sitting on the bottom steps with his head in his hands. She was about to ask why, then she heard raised voices from the dining room. He turned to look at her, his face grim, put a finger to his mouth and beckoned her down. She sat next to him.
Now she could hear better, she realised it was the countess shouting.
‘The child has to learn. You’ve got to stop pandering to her. How will she ever get a husband behaving like that?’
‘You just said it yourself, Countess,’ Heinz replied. ‘She’s a child. She’s been through so much, seen so much. Let her be a child for a while longer.’
The director’s voice broke in. ‘You are both right. Kizzy’s still young, Countess, and has been through so much. I can see Heinz’s point.’
‘For goodness’ sake, Alois, I thought you would be on my side. The child’s feral. We’re her only hope. She’s has no security, no family. What sort of life is she going to make? The war has taken so much from her. We can’t let it ruin her future too.’
Kizzy had had enough. The ache in her head was back. Standing up, she started up the stairs.
Jakob grabbed her hand. ‘What are you doing?’
Anger mingled with sadness inside her. ‘Tell them I don’t feel well.’
She pulled her hand away and ran back up to her room, where she flung herself onto her bed and curled up tightly, weeping.
After a while, she stood up and wandered over to the window, staring out beyond the fields. She thought back to the nights sleeping out under the stars, swimming in rivers, and eating fish they’d caught. She’d spent so much of her life living outside: with her parents first, then on her own, before she’d met Heinz and Jakob. Glancing down she saw a US army jeep sweep into the courtyard. She assumed a message from the US headquarters in the next schloss along where General Patton was apparently based. The soldier ran over to one of the officers left behind after the troop had gone to save the horses in Sudetenland. How she wished she could’ve gone with them.
She sat back on the bed with a thump. ‘Come on, Kizzy. Say it.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Maybe it’s time to get away again. If only I could go back to Heinz’s farm.’ She let out a long sigh.
The realisation of what she had to do hit hard. Kizzy took her bag from underneath the bed. She’d used this bag to travel across the mountains. She could carry it across her shoulders. The countess had wanted to throw it out, but Kizzy had refused. It held too many memories. Kizzy opened it on the bed. She reached to the back of the wardrobe to find the clothes the countess didn’t approve of: breeches and trousers, shirts and jumpers. She also packed the mess kit and water canteen that John, their American soldier friend, had given her. He befriended them when they performed in front of General Patton. She missed him, but he had gone as part of the operation.
There was a knock at the door. Whoever was there didn’t wait for her to answer, so Kizzy had no chance to hide what she was doing.
Jakob and Heinz came in, Jakob carrying a tray. ‘Thought you might be hungr…’ The word hung in the air when he saw what she was doing. ‘Kizzy?’
