Chapter Three 10 May 1940 Aletta
Chapter Three
Aletta
Aletta stood and surveyed her class, a pit forming in her stomach. The announcement about the Germans arriving had been devastating, but nothing quite compared to the realisation that three of her Jewish children weren’t in class. Everyone else was accounted for, which made it even stranger.
‘Else,’ she said, beckoning one of the girls over, once she’d settled her class with their books.
The little girl rose from her chair and came to stand in front of her. She’d been her favourite from her very first day, although Aletta would never admit it to anyone and tried hard not to show her favouritism.
‘Do you know if Luuk, Maria and Julia are unwell?’ She felt bad singling her out, but as one of the Jewish children, she thought Else might know.
Else shook her head, her eyes wide like saucers. ‘They’re not coming to school anymore.’
Aletta felt her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. ‘They’re not? Do you know why?’
The little girl’s cheeks stained bright pink, and Aletta quickly got up from her seat and came to crouch in front of her, taking her hands.
‘It’s all right, I’m so sorry for asking. I should have known better,’ Aletta said, giving her a hug. ‘I’m only worried about them, that’s all. Thank you for telling me.’
After reassuring Else and ushering her back to her seat, telling the rest of her class to get on with their writing, she went back to her desk, turning to stare out of the window. She’d naively hoped that the war wouldn’t touch her classroom. How wrong I was.
When Else’s seat was vacant a day later, Aletta didn’t ask any of the children questions. But as soon as class was dismissed for the day, she tidied up the classroom and packed her bag, hurrying down the street and heading in the opposite direction to her apartment.
If Else and the other Jewish children no longer felt safe coming to school, she wanted to find out what she could do for them, whether it would be helpful for her to drop off schoolwork, or even call around some afternoons to give private lessons.
But after knocking once, then twice at Else’s family’s door, she started to think that something was very wrong.
‘Mrs Zilversmit?’ she called out, knocking again. ‘It’s Else’s teacher here. It’s Aletta.’
There was still no reply, and just as she was about to turn away, another door opened and an old, grey-haired lady looked out.
‘You won’t find them here,’ she said.
‘This isn’t the house of the Zilversmits?’ Aletta asked. ‘I—’
‘They left in the middle of the night.’
Aletta swallowed. ‘Did they say when they’d be coming back?’
The lady just shook her head, her expression sad, and Aletta stood for a long moment after she’d shut the door. There was only one Jewish student left in her class. One. A week ago, there had been five.
She clenched her fists, tightly balling them as she left the apartment block, anger rising inside her while she tried to make sense of what was happening.
And after she walked into her apartment on autopilot, she found herself standing in the middle of her living room.
Write to Cecilia. Ask her where the resistance group meets and whether they’re still looking for new members.
A terrified shudder made its way through Aletta, but she knew that feeling heartbroken wasn’t going to help anyone.
But writing that letter will.