Chapter Four Aletta
Chapter Four
Aletta
It had been almost dark when Aletta tiptoed through her apartment and slipped out of the door, putting her shoes on outside so she didn’t make any noise.
Cecilia had left a note for her that morning before she left, telling Aletta where the Resistance met, and she’d known from the moment she read it that she had to go.
Every time she doubted herself, she thought of little Else, wondering where her family had fled to, and she couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.
She was looking for an industrial building about a twenty-minute walk from her house, and although she’d initially imagined there might be a guard outside or a codeword needed to enter, she was simply greeted at the door by a young man of a similar age to her with nothing more than a smile and a nod.
‘You’re here for the meeting?’ he asked.
Aletta nodded, her pulse racing as she wondered for the hundredth time that night whether she should have come in the first place. But instead of letting on how nervous she was, she just replied: ‘I am.’
She was taking a huge risk in coming – they all were – but she imagined that every single person inside had a good reason for being there, just as she did.
Aletta walked nervously past him and into a space full of people, many of them as young as she was, some a little older, and all she could think was that the energy in the room was contagious.
But then someone let out a loud whistle, which made everyone fall quiet.
The noise in the room went from loud to a low hum.
‘We’ll get started soon,’ a man of about thirty said at the front, and she imagined that he was standing on an apple box to be able to see out over the crowd so well. ‘Talk to the people next to you, make friends. We’re all in this together.’
Aletta’s stomach fluttered as she glanced around her.
Standing in the crowd listening was one thing, but striking up conversations with strangers was something else.
For some reason, she’d imagined none of them talking to each other, trying to keep their identities hidden, perhaps.
She folded her arms around her middle, nervous all over again, but she’d barely crossed them when a girl of a similar age stuck out her hand.
‘I’m Sara,’ she said with a grin. ‘Is this your first meeting?’
‘Is it that obvious?’ Aletta asked, shaking her hand, her cheeks flushing hot. ‘I’m Aletta.’
‘Your eyes are like saucers, so I’m going to say that it was kind of obvious, but I’m almost certain I looked the same last week. This is only my second time.’
‘It’s . . .’ Aletta looked around. ‘I don’t know how to describe it. There’re so many people here, more than I could have imagined.’
‘Just wait until you hear what they have to say,’ Sara said. ‘Because if you’re anything like me, you won’t be able to stop thinking about it. It’s like it sets something on fire inside you, and you can’t wait to find out how you can be part of it all.’
The person on the other side of her tapped her shoulder then, and Aletta turned, meeting another young woman and the man with her. When she finally spun back around, Sara was gone, but it didn’t matter. Aletta was certain she’d see her again, and by the sounds of it, it was time to listen anyway.
She glanced over her shoulder, nervously expecting that they could be found at any moment, that someone might come and arrest them all for attending such a gathering. But despite the risk, she had the most overwhelming feeling that it was worth the risk.
Aletta slipped in the door, expecting her parents to be asleep.
It was dark, but there was a light on in the kitchen and her father was sitting in his armchair, facing the door.
She saw him immediately because of the burning tip of his cigarette in the almost-black of the living room.
She knew then that something was wrong; her father was often up this late in his office, but he was never waiting for her when she got home. Worry curled in her stomach.
‘You frightened me,’ she said. ‘What are you still doing up?’
‘I’ve been sitting here waiting for my daughter to arrive home. My daughter who has seemingly forgotten the curfew we set for her.’
His voice sounded different, and she could tell that he was cross with her in a way she wasn’t used to. Because you never usually break his rules, that’s why.
‘I know it’s late, but—’
‘Aletta, where have you been?’ he asked.
She dug her nails into her palms as she stood before him.
Her father never usually asked her where she’d been or was upset with her for staying out a little late, certainly not now that she was twenty.
But things were changing, she understood that, and perhaps it wasn’t so unexpected.
Besides, this time she was more than just a little late.
Aletta took a deep breath, understanding she was going to have to answer his questions very carefully.
It wasn’t that she intended on keeping her whereabouts a secret, it was simply that she’d expected to have more time to figure out how to break the news to them.
She also wasn’t certain how she felt – her thoughts were a jumble and her heart had raced since she had listened to the beginnings of this resistance movement.
‘Aletta, I want you to tell me where you’ve been,’ her father asked, his voice rising. ‘Because in case you missed the news, our country has been invaded by the enemy, and you’re choosing now to disappear at night and not return until well after dark! Anything could have happened to you!’
Aletta lifted her chin. She wasn’t going to lie to her father, but she was also a grown woman who’d made a decision to attend a gathering, not a child in need of berating. It was he who’d said as much to her mother only a week or so earlier.
‘You’re speaking to me as if I’m a little girl again,’ she began.
‘This is my house, which means you will obey my rules!’
Aletta took a slow, shaky breath. This was not a version of her father she was used to, but she could tell he was worried, so she wasn’t going to hold his outburst against him. She spoke as calmly as she could. ‘I’ve been at a meeting.’
‘What kind of meeting?’ he asked, extinguishing his cigarette in a glass dish and standing up to face her.
Aletta cleared her throat. ‘I’ve been at a meeting of like-minded people who want to help our country,’ she said, repeating something she’d heard a woman at the meeting say.
‘I don’t want to just sit idly and not do anything, so I’ve taken it upon myself to investigate what other young people are doing.
How they plan to stand up to what might, what will, happen here. ’
‘You attended a meeting for the underground movement?’ he whispered, his voice barely audible. She wasn’t sure what was worse – his raised tone of earlier or the quiet, disbelieving way he was speaking now.
‘Yes.’
His face fell. ‘Aletta, are you mad? You can’t go to those meetings! You can’t risk your life by being caught working with the Resistance! Do you know what could happen to you?’
Anger simmered deep inside her as she faced him.
It was one thing to be worried about her, but another entirely to act as if he wasn’t taking risks, too.
Risks that he would most definitely be punished for if he were caught.
‘So, it’s all right for you to risk your life by helping your Jewish clients, but I can’t even—’
‘This is different, you’re my daughter, Aletta! I need to know you’re safe!’ he demanded.
‘Safe isn’t going to save lives! Safe isn’t going to bring back the Jewish children who’ve disappeared from my class,’ she cried, turning slightly when she realised that her mother was standing in the dark near them, stepping out of the shadows with one hand pressed to her mouth in disbelief as she listened to them argue.
‘I won’t stand by and do nothing, Papa. I can’t. ’
They had never been a family who quarrelled, never usually raised their voices to one another, and she could see the shock on her mother’s face to find her husband and daughter at odds in the living room so late at night.
Aletta stood, silent now, the only sound the rasp of her breath as her mother looked between them.
‘What’s going on here?’ her mother asked. ‘Aletta, where have you been? Have you only just arrived home?’
‘Tell her,’ her father said. ‘Tell her where you’ve been!’
She faced her mother, finding it even harder to say the words.
‘Where have you been, Aletta?’ she asked. ‘Why are you both yelling loud enough for our neighbours to hear?’
Before she could answer, her father spoke.
‘She’s been at a meeting of the underground movement,’ he said, turning to face her mother, who was as ashen-faced as she’d been when they’d listened to the news on the radio. ‘The Resistance, Emma. She thinks she’s going to join the Resistance!’
Aletta closed her eyes after seeing the look of disbelief pass over her mother’s face.
‘You’ve joined the Resistance?’ her mother asked. ‘That’s where you were tonight?’
‘I was,’ Aletta said. ‘I know it’s a lot to take in, and I should have said something at dinner, but I didn’t want you to talk me out of it. I wanted to see for myself what it was about, to understand how we could work together, to know whether I even wanted to be a part of it.’
‘And you were impressed by these people? By this movement?’ her mother asked. ‘They made you want to join them?’
‘I was, and they did,’ Aletta said, feeling a warmth spread through her as she remembered the energy in the room, that feeling that there was nothing they couldn’t achieve if they all worked together.
She met her mother’s stare. ‘It was like nothing I could have imagined, and I’m sorry but nothing either of you has to say will stop me. ’