‘You’ve seen how many people I have hiding here,’ Uncle Hannes said to me.

I nodded. ‘I’ve seen it,’ I said.

‘I can’t shelter you here,’ he said. ‘You’ll have to go somewhere else.’

‘All right,’ I said.

‘The boy will take you,’ continued Uncle Hannes. He went over and stood by the window. A girl with red cheeks came and cleared the table.

‘Do you see that tree over there?’ asked Uncle Hannes. He pointed outside. I got up from the empty table and stood next to him. ‘When you reach that tree, you’ll see a railway crossing. Wait there for the boy.’

The girl with the red cheeks started sweeping up the straw and breadcrumbs. There were a few crusts under the chair where the boy with the dark brown eyes had been sitting. I walked hesitantly to the door, not knowing if I was supposed to leave right away. Uncle Hannes continued to stare out the window. The girl swept the crumbs into a dustpan.

‘Good luck,’ said Uncle Hannes. He turned around and nodded at me.

I left the room. My suitcase was in the hall. Outside was the blazing sun and the strong odour of manure. I crossed the yard and walked up the road without looking back.

The bed

The boy came riding up with two bikes. I was waiting for him at the unguarded railway crossing and saw the wind blow a shock of his light blond hair away from his sunburned face. He leaned the bikes against a post, took my suitcase and tied it to his luggage rack.

‘We have to go that way,’ he said, pointing to a path that ran through a pasture. I nodded and got on my bike. He rode ahead of me over the sandy road. Meanwhile it had got even hotter. A horse was standing near a gate, flicking flies with its tail. Every now and then a grazing cow turned languidly to stare at us. The boy kept biking without looking around. The dry, loose sand of the path made it more and more difficult to keep my balance. I had to pedal hard to avoid skidding, though things went better after we turned onto another road. At last we came to a canal lined with small houses on both sides.

The boy dropped back to bike next to me. ‘We’re almost there,’ he said. He had tied his handkerchief around his neck. Everywhere women were busy cleaning windows and scrubbing the pavements in front of their houses. Children were playing on the strip of grass along the water. A fisherman sat gazing motionlessly at his float. The boy and I got off our bikes in front of one of the houses. My clothes felt as if they were glued to my body.

‘This is it,’ said the boy. We walked over a gravel path to the back, where an open door led to a kitchen.