Petr began to talk about the children. In the last few weeks, Maria had taken to goading her brother who displayed remarkable patience with the provocation. Laure offered her own insights, gained from having been with them these last weeks. Petr listened, questioned and seemed appreciative of Laure’s point of view.

‘You know them better than we do,’ he joked.

That’s right, she thought. ‘I don’t think so, Petr.’

‘Jan is a good boy,’ he said. ‘Before you came, he was a little difficult. You have settled him.’

The compliment was unexpected and pleased Laure. ‘I love them both.’

‘You’re part of the family.’

That made her uneasy. Yet, it also intrigued her. The trying-onthe-future-for-size kind of intrigue.

He turned towards her. She was tempted to edge away but he made no further move. ‘I’ve confided in you that Eva is ill. We think you’re perfect for the children and we are fond of you. But I wanted to tell you that we admire you for the way you have handled your own family situation. I mean, the death of your father.’

Jan chose that moment to abandon his new-found chivalry and to push over his sister. Laure leapt to her feet to deal with the carnage. Maria howled and Laure sat down on the grass. Gathering up the little body in her arms, she whispered comforting words and rocked her gently. ‘Don’t let him make you cry.’

Maria quietened. Laure stroked her curly head and dropped kisses on the top of her head. Glancing up, she intercepted a dazed, bewildered look on Petr’s face as he gazed on the tableau. It was as if he had been punched in the stomach and was struggling to work out what had happened.

When she returned the dirt-streaked, subdued Maria to her father, the conversation turned to other things.

From then on, Petr made a point of accompanying Laure and the children every so often on afternoon outings which pleased the children and their behaviour improved.

He was careful not to interfere, to listen to her opinions on the children and procured treats. A cake. A packet of biscuits… which they shared companionably between them in the hot afternoons.

Not infrequently, too, he requested Laure to join him after the evening meal when Eva was in bed and he talked about Paris and his childhood in Prague. He was curious about Laure’s childhood and upbringing and pressed her for details. But the conversation of Kampa Park was never repeated. If they did touch on politics, Petr would say something such as: ‘Let’s just keep to the big narrative’, and Laure was hyper-careful to appear ignorant about all matters Czechoslovakian.

CHAPTER 20

Berlin, 1996