They left the hospital without issue, and the bright, mid-morning sunshine caused Johann’s cheeks to flush further. Ava was on his arm to help support him as they made their way towards the nearby Prater—a large area of public parkland where Johann thought they could walk and sit and talk until he felt his presence at the hospital might be missed, which he didn’t think would be until at least lunchtime.
‘So, first tell me how you knew where I was,’ Johann said. ‘I couldn’t have mentioned it in my letter because at the time I had no idea I was coming here myself.’
‘It wasn’t so difficult,’ Ava said. ‘When I received your letter I was very worried about you. I knew I had to come and see you if I could, so I asked Volker to find you for me.’ She smiled to herself. ‘He’s been very helpful to me and my family lately. He sends his wishes and told me not to worry about you because you’re a survivor. He said it would take more than a Russian shell to stop you.’
‘Someone was certainly looking out for me that day, I’m sure of it.’
‘Were you very badly wounded? You didn’t say much about it in your letter.’
‘It was nothing, really,’ Johann said, not wishing to worry Ava with the details. He had survived the ordeal, and he saw no purpose in telling her how lucky he was to be standing there beside her. ‘I’m sure everyone has made more fuss over me than was necessary. They tell me that with a little rest I should make a full recovery in a month or so.’
‘It must have been terrible for you,’ Ava said, gazing into the sky as though trying to imagine the horrors of war.
Johann began to recall some of those horrors, and he began to see the faces of his fallen Kameraden again, many of whom had also become good friends.
‘Let’s talk about you, can we? How have you been? Are your parents well?’
‘Well enough, considering. Papa had to stop teaching his music because no one comes to him any more. He’s looking for work. Mama and I took laundry jobs, but the pay is very low.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘Mind you,’ Ava continued, ‘it’s not easy to spend what little we do earn. There doesn’t seem to be enough food to go around, even for those who can afford it. People are beginning to wonder whether this war was such a good idea.’
‘Shh, Ava. Don’t let anyone hear you talking like that. It will be different when the war is won.’
They reached the Prater and followed a path beside a lake, heading towards the Wiener Riesenrad—a giant Ferris wheel with thirty gondolas that seemed to dominate the skyline. Johann pointed to it.
‘I should like to ride the wheel with you before you return to Munich, but perhaps not today. Were you planning to stay in Vienna long?’
‘I hadn’t really made any plans other than to see you. Now that I have, I’d like to visit you again tomorrow, if that’s okay. I’m sure I can find lodgings somewhere close by.’
‘I’d see you every day if I could, Ava,’ Johann said, turning to her. Their eyes met and neither seemed in any hurry to look away again. ‘We’ll just go and look at the wheel today then, but tomorrow we’ll go for a ride. How about that?’
‘Can you make it that far today? Are you sure you wouldn’t rather turn back?’
‘I can manage,’ Johann said, forcing a smile. He supposed his morning medication was wearing off, because in truth every step now seemed to hurt more than the last.
As they followed the course of the pathway through the lush green parkland, neither spoke of the war again, perhaps just to help take their minds off it for a short time as they took in the beauty around them. When they arrived at the Wiener Riesenrad, they stopped outside the cinema that was adjacent to it, where the word ‘KINO’ was raised high above the building as though competing with the giant wheel for the passing tourists’ attention.
‘It’s quite magnificent,’ Johann said as they gazed up at the wheel and the wide gondolas that were slowly turning over the city.
His eyes fell to meet Ava’s again. His near fatal wounds had made him all too aware that his life could be over in an instant, and what then was it all for? He reached into his pocket and felt the ring box he’d kept beneath his hospital bed pillow whenever he was out of his uniform. He had come to feel that it somehow kept Ava close to him. At least, it carried the hope of being with her again.
And now he was.