The Runaway Family by Diney Costeloe

unaccustomed schnapps, she went over and over what Herbert had said.
    “You can stay here in the flat. You’ll be fine.”
    “And what do you suggest we live on?” she had demanded angrily. “Fresh air?”
    “Of course not,” Herbert soothed. “I will give you some money. It’s the least I can do. I have some money saved. Most of it I must take with me, to start again in Argentina… but of course I will leave you enough to keep you going until Kurt gets here.”
    “And supposing he doesn’t?” demanded Ruth, staring at him icily. “Supposing he doesn’t get here?”
    Herbert had returned her stare. “Then you’ll be on your own, Ruth. I’ll have done everything I can for you, and it’ll be up to you.”
    “Will they let you take your money with you?” she’d asked a little later. “I thought you weren’t allowed to take anything valuable with you.”
    “Don’t worry, I’ve thought of that,” Herbert replied. “I’m not taking it in actual cash. I’ve converted it into something more portable; something easier to hide. I’ll get it out all right.”
    Ruth didn’t ask what, or where he would conceal it. She didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to know how much he was taking, or how. She simply asked, “When do you go?” She knew that whatever she said or did, Herbert would leave and she and the four children would be on their own.
    “I collect my ticket tomorrow,” he replied, “and then take the train to Hamburg. The boat leaves next week.”
    So this time tomorrow, Ruth thought, it’ll just be me and the children.
    She fought to keep the rising panic at bay. She fought the tears of frustration and desperation that threatened to overwhelm her. This was no time to give way to tears. It was only her strength that was going to keep them alive.
    Herbert had spent much of the night packing. Ruth could hear him moving round his bedroom, opening and closing drawers and the wardrobe. There was the occasional creak of bedsprings, and then as the grey of a false dawn lightened the sky, one final groan of the bed as Herbert lay down.
    Ruth wondered if he had actually managed to go to sleep, or whether he, too, was lying in the dark, afraid of what the future might hold.
    Next morning he ate his breakfast in silence, paying no attention to the chatter of the children, and they, picking up the strange atmosphere, gradually slipped into silence. As soon as they had finished eating, Ruth sent them to their bedroom, telling them to play in there until she called them to do their lessons.
    Herbert looked at his sister-in-law across the table. “I’ll be off soon,” he said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bundle of notes and handed them across to her. “This should keep you going for a while,” he said. “As I told you, the rent is paid until the end of the year. You’ll have a roof over your heads until then at least.”
    Ruth nodded, and reaching for the money put it into her pocket. “Thank you for that,” she said, getting to her feet. “I wish you the best of luck in your new life, Herbert.”
    “As soon as I get settled there, I’ll be in touch. Kurt can bring you all over to join me… and,” Herbert paused as if not knowing quite how to phrase what he wanted to say next, before continuing awkwardly, “and, if he hasn’t come back by then, perhaps you should consider joining me anyway… to keep the children safe.”
    “Yes, well…”
    “Yes, well…” Herbert turned away and went into his bedroom. Ruth was still standing beside the breakfast table when he reappeared a few moments later, wearing his overcoat and a felt hat and carrying a large suitcase.
    “Obviously I haven’t been able to take all my clothes with me,” he said. “Kurt can have them when he gets here.” For a moment he gave his sister-in-law a long look, then he put the case on the floor and reached out to take her hand. For a moment Ruth thought he was going to put his arms round her, but he