Suddenly, one of the tanks erupted in flames of blue and grey and yellow. The world disappeared below her feet. She fell into the crater and debris rained on top of her, softly it seemed, till she caught her breath, and realised that it hurt.
Her fingers still held her suitcase. She began to crawl out of the crater, away from the flaming ruin of the tank.
‘Here! Over here!’
She looked up. A woman was kneeling at the edge of the crater. The woman held out her hand to Heidi.
Heidi took it. It was cold and smooth.
The hand began to help her up, and suddenly she could move again.
The hand hauled her the final few feet, and then shoved her, safe from the flames and debris, behind a wall.
She looked at her rescuer. She was older than Fraulein Gelber. Or maybe she was younger, and the lines on her face were only signs of strain. A boy stood beside her, a bundle in his arms. He was small—about two or three years younger than she was. His eyes were wide but steady.
‘Are you alright?’ asked the woman anxiously.
Heidi nodded.
‘But there’s blood on your face.’
‘It’s not blood. It’s a birthmark.’ Heidi felt her face. Her fingers came away red and damp. There
The woman examined her in the fierce yellow pulses of light. ‘Just scratches, I think,’ she said. ‘Where is your mother?’
‘I have no mother,’ said Heidi clearly. ‘No father either. I’m alone.’
The woman was silent for a moment. ‘Then you must stay with us for now,’ she said. Her voice was definite, but sort of flat, as though she’d used up all emotion. ‘We have to get through to the Americans. Away from the Russian soldiers. You understand?’
‘The Russians killed Helga,’ said the boy. They were the first words he’d spoken. His voice was high and fierce.
‘Who is Helga?’ whispered Heidi.
‘My elder sister. They hurt Mutti as well.’
The woman beside her began to tremble. She slid down the wall that sheltered them. ‘We’ll rest a minute,’ she whispered. ‘Then we’ll go on. There is food in the bag if you need it, child.’
She closed her eyes.
‘Is she alright?’ whispered Heidi to the boy.
The boy nodded. ‘She just needs to rest,’ he said. ‘She carried Helga till she died.’
His voice was almost matter of fact. He could have been talking about carrying the shopping, unless you looked at his eyes and the white fists of his hands.
‘What’s your name?’ he asked at last.
‘Heidi,’ said Heidi.
‘My name is Johannes Wilhem Schmidt,’ said the boy. ‘And my mother is Frau Erna Schmidt and my father is—’
‘Is Herr Schmidt,’ said Heidi.
‘His name is Johannes too, like me,’ said the boy.
‘Where is he?’
The boy hesitated. ‘I don’t know. But he’ll find us again. Mutti says he will.’
‘I’m sure he will find you,’ whispered Heidi.
‘You can rest if you like,’ said Johannes carefully, as another tank squealed by. ‘I’ll look after you.’
She almost smiled. He was so small. And so earnest.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘I’ll look after both of you,’ said Johannes.
Heidi nodded. ‘I know you will,’ she said. ‘And I’ll look after you.’
chapter eighteen
The End of the Story
The rain spluttered on the roof, and oozed through the yellow mud along the road. The black and white cow opposite took a mournful mouthful of wet grass and munched it sadly. The world was wet and grey and just the same.
‘What happened then?’ asked Mark finally.
Anna shoved her hands back into her pockets. ‘Nothing. That’s the end of the story.’
‘But it can’t be the end! Please Anna!’ Tracey’s small, cold fingers touched her hand.
Anna hesitated.
‘Where did she go then? What happened to the Schmidts? Did they escape the Russians? Did they find somewhere safe?’ urged Mark.
‘Frau Schmidt and Johannes were sent to a refugee camp.’ Anna’s voice was still hesitant. ‘They got through to the part of Berlin the Americans controlled.’
‘And Heidi?’ urged Mark.
‘She went too. Frau Schmidt told the people at the camp that Heidi was her daughter—the one who died. They had to get new papers in the camp, and that’s what Heidi’s said: Helga Schmidt. She was Helga now.’
‘And then?’
‘And then they came out to Australia.’ Anna’s voice was stronger again.
Mark blinked. ‘Australia? You mean here!’
Anna nodded.
‘But…but that’s impossible!’
‘No, it wasn’t! Lots of refugees came here after World War Two. Herr Schmidt found his family in the refugee camp, so they all came out here together. And Herr Schmidt accepted Heidi as his daughter. People had so little then. Just their family. Herr Schmidt said Heidi was “
‘I didn’t know you spoke German,’ said Mark.
Anna rubbed her cold, red nose. ‘A few words,’ she said ‘Grandma taught me. She spoke a…a little German.’
Ben frowned. ‘But she can’t have come to Australia. We’d have heard if Hitler’s daughter came here.’
‘Dope. She’s not real. Remember?’ said Mark. But his voice was uncertain.
‘And anyway, no one knew she was Hitler’s daughter, did they, Anna?’ put in Tracey eagerly.
Anna shook her head.
‘Go on,’ said Mark slowly.
‘She went to school in Australia. It took her longer to get through school than for others, because she’d missed so much, and she had to learn English too. Then she went to university. She became a doctor, a pediatrician. That’s a doctor for kids,’ she added for Little Tracey.
‘Did she get married?’ asked Tracey.
Anna nodded. ‘She married another doctor, and she had children.’
‘Hitler’s grandchildren!’ exclaimed Mark.
‘No. Heidi’s children,’ said Anna stubbornly.
‘What did her kids do?’ asked Ben. ‘Hey, imagine if one of Hitler’s grandkids became Prime Minister. We’d all have to fight him—pow, pow, pow!’
‘One became a furniture maker and the other one…’ Anna hesitated. ‘I don’t know.’
‘But it’s your story!’ insisted Mark. ‘You have to know!’
