Karolin was in Helmut and Alice’s tent, and they were talking in low voices, still arguing about whether the border crossing might be a trap. Lili interrupted the discussion. ‘Berthold is a Stasi agent,’ she said. ‘I searched his tent.’ She drew the gun from her pocket.
‘That’s a Makarov,’ said Helmut, who had served in the army. ‘A Soviet-made semi-automatic pistol, standard issue for the Stasi.’
Lili said: ‘If the border really were a trap, the Stasi would be keeping the fact secret. The way Berthold is telling everyone pretty much proves it’s not true.’
Helmut nodded. ‘That’s good enough for me. We’re going.’
They all stood up. Helmut said to Lili: ‘Would you like me to get rid of the gun?’
‘Yes, please.’ She handed it over, relieved to be rid of it.
‘I’ll find a secluded spot on the beach and throw it in the lake.’
While Helmut was doing that, the women put towels and swimsuits and bottles of sun lotion into the trunk of the Trabi as if they were going off for a day’s outing, maintaining the fiction of a family holiday. When Helmut came back, they drove to the grocery and bought cheese, bread and wine for a picnic.
Then they headed west.
Lili kept looking behind, but as far as she could tell no one was following them.
They drove fifty miles and turned off the main road when they were close to the border. Alice had a map and a magnetic compass. As they wound around country roads, pretending to look for a picnic spot in the forest, they saw several cars with East German plates abandoned at the roadside, and knew they were in the right area.
There was no sign of officialdom, but Lili worried all the same. Clearly the East German secret police had an interest in escapers, but there was probably nothing they could do.
They were passing a small lake when Alice said: ‘I calculate we’re less than a mile from the fence here.’
A few seconds later Helmut, who was at the wheel, turned off the road on to an unpaved track through the trees. He stopped the car in a clearing a few steps from the water.
He turned off the engine. ‘Well,’ he said into the silence. ‘Are we going to pretend to have lunch?’
‘No,’ said Alice, her voice high-pitched with tension. ‘I want to go, now.’
They all got out of the car.
Alice led the way, checking the compass. The going was easy, with little undergrowth to slow their steps. Tall pines filtered the sunshine, throwing patches of gold on to the carpet of needles underfoot. The forest was quiet. Lili heard the cry of some kind of waterfowl, and occasionally the distant roar of a tractor.
They passed a yellow Wartburg Knight, half-hidden by low-hanging branches, its windows broken and its fenders already rusting. A bird flew out of its open trunk, and Lili wondered whether it had nested there.
She scanned the surroundings constantly, looking for the patch of green or grey wool that would betray a uniform, but she saw no one. Helmut was equally alert, she noticed.
They climbed a rise, then the forest ran out abruptly. They emerged on to a strip of cleared land and saw, a hundred yards away, the fence.
It was not impressive. The posts were of rough-hewn wood. There were several rows of wire, which presumably had once been electrified. The top row, at a height of six feet, was plain barbed wire. On the far side was a field of yellow grain ripening in the August sun.
They crossed the cleared strip and came to the fence.
Alice said: ‘We can climb over the fence right here.’
Helmut said: ‘They have definitely switched off the electricity . . . ?’
‘Yes,’ said Alice.
Impatiently, Karolin reached out and touched the wire. She touched all the wires, grasping each firmly in her hand. ‘Off,’ she said.
Alice kissed and hugged her mother and Lili. Helmut shook hands.
A hundred yards away, from over a rise, two soldiers appeared in the grey tunics and tall peaked caps of the Hungarian Border Guard Service.
Lili said: ‘Oh, no!’
Both men levelled their rifles.
‘Stand still, everyone,’ said Helmut.
Alice said: ‘I can’t believe we got this close!’ She began to cry.
‘Don’t despair,’ said Helmut. ‘It’s not over yet.’
Coming closer, the guards lowered their rifles and spoke in German. No doubt they knew exactly what was going on. ‘What are you doing here?’ one said.
‘We came to picnic in the woods,’ Lili said.
‘A picnic? Really?’
‘We meant no harm!’
‘You are not allowed here.’
Lili was desperately afraid the soldiers would arrest them. ‘All right, all right,’ she said. ‘We’ll go back!’
She feared that Helmut might put up a fight. They might be killed, all four of them. She felt shaky and her legs were weak.
The second guard spoke. ‘Be careful,’ he said. He pointed along the fence in the direction from which he had come. ‘A quarter of a mile from here is a gap in the fence. You might accidentally cross the border.’
The two guards looked at one another and laughed heartily. Then they went on their way.
Lili stared in astonishment at their retreating backs. They kept on walking, not looking back. Lili and the others watched them out of sight in silence.
Then Lili said: ‘They seemed to be telling us . . .’
‘To find the gap in the fence!’ Helmut said. ‘Let’s do it, quick!’
They hurried in the direction in which the guard had pointed. They kept close to the edge of the forest, in case they needed to hide. Sure enough, after a quarter of a mile, they came to a place where the fence was broken. The wooden posts had been uprooted and the wires, snapped in places, lay flat on the ground. It looked as if a heavy lorry had driven through it. The earth all around was heavily trodden, the grass brown and sparse. Beyond the gap, a path between two fields led to a distant clump of trees with a few roofs showing: a village, or perhaps just a hamlet.
Freedom.
A small pine tree nearby was hung with key rings, thirty, forty, maybe fifty of them. People had left behind the keys to their apartments and cars, a defiant gesture to show that they were never coming back. As the branches were moved by a light breeze, the metal glittered in the sunlight. It looked like a Christmas tree.
‘Don’t hesitate,’ Lili said. ‘We said goodbye ten minutes ago. Just go.’
Alice said: ‘I love you, Mother, and Lili.’
‘Go,’ said Karolin.
Alice took Helmut’s hand.
Lili looked up and down the cleared strip alongside the fence. There was no one in sight.
The two young people walked through the gap, stepping carefully over the fallen fence.
On the other side, they stopped and waved, even though they were only ten feet away. ‘We’re free!’ Alice said.
Lili said: ‘Give my love to Walli.’
‘And mine,’ said Karolin.
Alice and Helmut walked on, hand in hand, up the path between the fields of grain.
At the far end they waved again.
Then they entered the little village and disappeared from sight.
Karolin’s face was wet with tears. ‘I wonder if we’ll ever see them again,’ she said.