The Boy in the Striped Pajamas

  ‘What is the foreseeable future exactly?’ asked Bruno, sitting down on the side of her bed.

  ‘It means weeks from now,’ said Gretel with an intelligent nod of her head. ‘Perhaps as long as three.’

  ‘That’s all right then,’ said Bruno. ‘As long as it’s just for the foreseeable future and not for a month. I hate it here.’

  Gretel looked at her little brother and found herself agreeing with him for once. ‘I know what you mean,’ she said. ‘It’s not very nice, is it?’

  ‘It’s horrible,’ said Bruno.

  ‘Well, yes,’ said Gretel, acknowledging that. ‘It’s horrible right now. But once the house is smartened up a bit it probably won’t seem so bad. I heard Father say that whoever lived here at Out-With before us lost their job very quickly and didn’t have time to make the place nice for us.’

  ‘Out-With?’ asked Bruno. ‘What’s an Out-With?’

  ‘It’s not an Out-With, Bruno,’ said Gretel with a sigh. ‘It’s just Out-With.’

  ‘Well, what’s Out-With then?’ he repeated. ‘Out with what?’

  ‘That’s the name of the house,’ explained Gretel. ‘Out-With.’

  Bruno considered this. He hadn’t seen any sign on the outside to say that was what it was called, nor had he seen any writing on the front door. His own house back in Berlin didn’t even have a name; it was just called number four.

  ‘But what does it mean?’ he asked in exasperation. ‘Out with what?’

  ‘Out with the people who lived here before us, I expect,’ said Gretel. ‘It must have to do with the fact that he didn’t do a very good job and someone said out with him and let’s get a man in who can do it right.’

  ‘You mean Father.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Gretel, who always spoke of Father as if he could never do any wrong and never got angry and always came in to kiss her goodnight before she went to sleep which, if Bruno was to be really fair and not just sad about moving houses, he would have admitted Father did for him too.

  ‘So we’re here at Out-With because someone said out with the people before us?’

  ‘Exactly, Bruno,’ said Gretel. ‘Now get off my bedspread. You’re messing it up.’

  Bruno jumped off the bed and landed with a thud on the carpet. He didn’t like the sound it made. It was very hollow and he immediately decided he’d better not go jumping around this house too often or it might collapse around their ears.

  ‘I don’t like it here,’ he said for the hundredth time.

  ‘I know you don’t,’ said Gretel. ‘But there’s nothing we can do about it, is there?’

  ‘I miss Karl and Daniel and Martin,’ said Bruno.

  ‘And I miss Hilda and Isobel and Louise,’ said Gretel, and Bruno tried to remember which of those three girls was the monster.

  ‘I don’t think the other children look at all friendly,’ said Bruno, and Gretel immediately stopped putting one of her more terrifying dolls on a shelf and turned round to stare at him.

  ‘What did you just say?’ she asked.

  ‘I said I don’t think the other children look at all friendly,’ he repeated.

  ‘The other children?’ said Gretel, sounding confused. ‘What other children? I haven’t seen any other children.’

  Bruno looked around the room. There was a window here but Gretel’s room was on the opposite side of the hall, facing his, and so looked in a totally different direction. Trying not to appear too obvious, he strolled casually towards it. He placed his hands in the pockets of his short trousers and attempted to whistle a song he knew while not looking at his sister at all.

  ‘Bruno?’ asked Gretel. ‘What on earth are you doing? Have you gone mad?’

  He continued to stroll and whistle and he continued not to look until he reached the window, which, by a stroke of luck, was also low enough for him to be able to see out of. He looked outside and saw the car they had arrived in, as well as three or four others belonging to the soldiers who worked for Father, some of whom were standing around smoking cigarettes and laughing about something while looking nervously up at the house. Beyond that was the driveway and further along a