Renata looked at Walter, her mouth twisting. “Germany’s invaded the Russian territories.”
3
August 1941
The sun shimmered on the surface of Žernosecké Lake, and beyond the beach, sailboats sailed lazily by and around the two small islands. The hills wavered on the horizon in the heat. At the sound of a familiar voice among the seemingly hundreds, Magda propped herself up on her elbows and shaded her eyes.
“Is that Walter?” she asked.
Next to her, Renata lowered the paperback novel she was reading and flipped her sunglasses down from her forehead. “From the look of that triangular torso, it must be.”
Walter was sitting on the shoulders of a boy, wrestling another pair of boys. When Walter lost his balance and fell backward into the water, Magda laughed into her hand.
Renata snorted and poked the sleeping Aleš next to her. He was lying on his stomach, his head resting on crossed arms.
“Look,” she said. “Walter’s here.”
Aleš twisted around, but lay back down. “You’re better off looking the other way.”
“What on earth for?” Renata said. She looked at Magda over the rim of her glasses. “It’s summer. It’s hot. And I happen to know he was hanging around extra long his last day at the villa, hoping to see you, Magda. Go on. Go over and say hello.”
Magda shook her head. “I’ll just stay here…”
She watched as the four boys splashed out of the lake, laughing and jostling one another. She sat up and folded her legs beneath her. Renata smirked and lifted the book to her nose again. The boys fell onto four towels, lying in the sand just a dozen or so feet away.
Still laughing, Walter leapt up, grabbed his towel, and started drying himself off. He suddenly turned in Magda's direction and paused for a moment. She lifted her hand, but one of his companions sprang up and swiped Walter’s towel away.
Walter tugged on the towel, and the companion looked her way as well. Magda dropped her hand and pretended not to notice. The companion nudged Walter, and Walter shook his head. The other boy looked more intently at Magda. She knew these episodes. She’d had enough of them in Voštiny.
Renata waved a Reichsmark in her face. “Why don’t you go get us some ice cream? Aleš wants strawberry, and I’ll have chocolate.”
“I want no such thing,” Aleš grunted.
“Fine. Get him a chocolate one too.”
Magda sprang at the chance. She took the Reichsmark and started for the ice cream seller. Aleš rolled over onto his side, and she heard him arguing with Renata.
“Magda!”
She turned. Walter and his companion were racing each other up the sandy slope.
“That is you,” Walter said.
He was lying. He’d recognized her from the start. It was not as if it was difficult to identify her.
“How are you?” he asked. “This is Gustav. We’re swimmates.”
Gustav had bleached-blond eyelashes, and he was looking at Magda with an intent amusement. “I think,” he said, “your left cheek is…sunburned?”
Magda walked away. Walter called after her. The boys caught up, one on either side.
“Where are you going?” Walter asked.
She pointed to the ice cream seller.
“Gustav doesn’t come from the best of families.” He punched Gustav’s arm. They whispered behind her as she took her place in line for the ice cream.
“Let me buy you the ice cream,” Gustav said.
Walter stepped up close to her. “I’m glad to see you.”
“I heard,” she said, “that you’re doing a lot of swim training…in Ploskovice.” She could not bring herself to say, “at the Napola.” She still could not believe he was attending the Nazi elite school.
“You heard?” Walter asked. “Really?”
“Aleš said so.”
“Aleš. Yeah.” He glanced over his shoulder. She knew it. Walter had seen them. “My trainer is talking about the Olympics.”
“Hey.” Gustav shoved in. “Why don’t you invite your girlfriend to the dance tonight?” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. Workers were transporting wood planks across the bridge to the small island where the summerhouse was.
Before Walter could say anything, Magda shook her head. “I’ve got to get back to Eliška this afternoon.”
“But Eliška goes to bed early,” Walter said. “Come afterward.”
Magda looked down. He’d left shortly after that day in the stable, right after he’d told her the Napola had recruited him. The swim coach had found that Germany needed a swimmer like Walter. And this way, Walter had explained in response to her aversion, he might avoid conscription—at least for a while.
It was her turn. She stepped up to the counter and ordered three ice creams, two chocolates and one strawberry. She held the Reichsmark out to the seller.
Watler said, “Let me pay.” His bathing suit was damp, and he emanated a coolness from the lake water. He had no money on him.
The seller held out the first two ice creams.
“Sure, okay. Go ahead.” Magda folded Renata’s Reichsmark back into her fist.
Walter patted his hips and his sides. “Damn. Gustav, go get my money. Better yet, you’re the one who offered to pay, so go get your money.”
Gustav smirked, rolled his eyes, and jogged back toward the beach.
Strawberry ice cream dripped onto Magda’s thumb. She shoved the money over the counter and took the last ice cream cone. “By the time he comes back, they’ll all have melted.”
“I’ll take the other cones,” Walter said. “Bring them to Renata and Aleš.”
“So you did recognize me right away.” She thrust the cones at him and stalked across the grass.
“Come tonight,” he called. “You never came to say goodbye on my last day.”
She stopped. He looked genuinely contrite. She really had wanted to say goodbye. Nobody had had to tell her that he’d waited. She had watched him wait. But what would a future Olympian want with her anyway, except for cruel entertainment, like now?
Gustav was already returning, and Magda indicated the other two cones.
“Give those to me before they melt. Keep that boy away from Aleš.” She forced a laugh. “The mood he’s in, he’ll call Renata a Viking or something, and then there’ll be a fight.”
“Ha! You’re probably right.”
She took the
