The Star of Kazan

And she told Annika about Zed’s journey and that they were sure he hadn’t taken her trunk, but she said nothing about Frau von Tannenberg.

‘Well, if he didn’t, I don’t care who did,’ said Annika. ‘Who cares about a trunk of old clothes?’

Ten minutes later she was dressed and out in the stable yard .

‘He remembers you,’ said Zed, as Rocco rubbed his head against Annika’s arm.

‘I certainly remember him,’ said Annika. ‘Oh, I can’t believe you’re here and Rocco’s here; it’s like magic, finding you in Vienna.’

She had forgotten her fears, and her fatigue. Seeing Zed when she thought he was gone forever made everything right. Now she said, ‘You’re staying here, aren’t you, Zed? You’re staying in Vienna? Ellie says you can find plenty of odd jobs to do and the professors don’t mind stabling Rocco.’

‘Annika, I can’t.’ Zed had turned his face away so that she did not see how much he minded the thought of leaving. ‘I have to go and find the gypsies. We could be in trouble here, Rocco and I, if I stay.’

‘But why? What sort of trouble?’

‘There were two men – special police I think, or informers. They saw me when I was riding Rocco in the Prater and they kept staring at me and they wrote things down in their notebooks. And I saw one of them again; when I was teaching Rocco to do a collected trot on that piece of waste ground behind the museum, and I was sure he was going to come up to me, but someone came and talked to him and I got away.’ He paused, rubbing Rocco’s neck. ‘You’ve got to remember, Annika, I stole Rocco. The Master bought him for Hermann, not for me. The police must have been told to look out for me – and if Rocco is taken back to Spittal he’ll be sold to anyone who wants him, and I’ve got to see that doesn’t happen. I chose Rocco when he was a foal – and I suppose I chose him again when I took him away. Maybe stealing is a kind of choosing.’ He shrugged. ‘Anyway, I don’t want to go to prison.’

‘Yes, I see. But couldn’t you just stay a little longer? I want to know about your journey. And I want to show you Vienna. You have to go on the Giant Wheel in the Prater, and down the Danube in a paddle boat – Oh, a lot of things.’ And as Zed remained silent. ‘Please, Zed?’

‘I wanted to see that you were all right and you are, but now I must go.’

‘Just for a few more days?’ she pleaded. ‘No one will find Rocco in our backyard.’

‘It isn’t that I want to go, Annika. Everyone has been so kind – everyone. I haven’t had a home since the Master died . . . Well, never mind all that. I’ll stay till the end of the week but no longer than that. And all right, we’ll all go on the Giant Wheel. I suppose no one is allowed to leave Vienna without going on that!’

C

HAPTER

T

HIRTY

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FIVE

T

HE

E

MPTYING

S

CHOOL

The headmistress’s bedroom on the first floor of Grossenfluss had been turned into a hospital. The lower legs of the four-poster bed rested on two upended iron cauldrons so that the blood, when it reached the principal’s feet, would be sure to return to her head. Large bronze cylinders of oxygen were propped up against the walls, rubber tubes and kidney bowls and syringes were piled on the bedside table. Fräulein von Donner’s leg was in plaster and hung from a pulley on the ceiling; there was a splint on her broken nose, one arm was bandaged.

She had pinned the Order of the Closed Fist to the collar of her flannel nightdress, and she was eating a pork chop.

The pork chop was slightly burnt and this was because it had been cooked by the principal’s faithful secretary, the eel-like Mademoiselle Vincent, and the reason for this was simple. There had been twenty maids in the kitchens and sculleries of Grossenfluss and now there were only two.

Nor was it necessary to tell the girls to be quiet outside the door of the sickroom because the corridor was almost empty of pupils, and every hour or so a carriage drew up and yet another nobly born lady or gentleman came to fetch their daughter home.

For Stefan, when he let the harp fall on to the headmistress, had started something which was not yet finished. Single-handedly, he had brought about the downfall of the school. It had begun slowly, like the fall of the harp itself, but now, a week later, it was almost complete.

Annika was not the only girl who had escaped that night. In the uproar and pandemonium three other girls had run away. The mushroom-hating Minna and the silent Flosshilde reached their homes safely and were not returned. A big, good-natured girl called Marta was hidden by a farmer, fell in love with his son and decided to stay.