Then they turned left towards the Doelen, the town shooting range, and passed the gunpowder store. It was a peaceful part of town, overhung by massive trees. Orchards and allotments stretched out to the curve of the town walls and the Schiekanaal. It was here that Louise’s father had bought one of the new houses, attracted by the peace and quiet away from the busy town centre. There was grass beside the road so their approach to the gate of the powder magazine was quiet. A sudden movement caused Louise to grip Pieter’s arm. It was Claes, watchman at the powder store, hastily putting something in his pocket. He smiled, but it was a shifty smile. Louise felt uneasy. She shivered and drew Pieter closer. ‘That smelled like tobacco,’ Pieter said, sniffing. ‘I hope he doesn’t smoke inside.’ ‘Oh, it would be forbidden. They even have to wear cloth shoes in case of sparks.’ Louise reassured him. ‘He’ll be careful enough, he’d be the first to be blown up.’ She looked ahead.
