Chapter Six Aletta #2
There was another distant shudder and then another, and it took all Aletta’s will power to go about making their coffees as her mother took up the place beside her to make them each a sandwich.
This might be one of the last normal days they knew, and no amount of worrying was going to help them.
But when she glanced over at her mother, she saw the unmistakable shake of her hands as she sliced the bread.
Her own hands were trembling, no matter how many times she clenched and unclenched them.
Aletta’s mother turned on the wireless again.
But this time, they listened to the slightly staticky sound of music instead of the BBC, neither of them saying a word as they sat at the table and chewed, the food like sawdust in Aletta’s mouth as she forced it down.
Their pledge to join the resistance had suddenly become a whole lot more dangerous, and she imagined her mother would be thinking the very same thing.
But just as quickly her thoughts turned to her friend Cecilia, wondering if she’d be able to hear the faraway sound of bombs falling from the countryside.
It had seemed like a knee-jerk reaction when her father had chosen to send her away with her brothers, but now it seemed like the height of good judgement, and it wouldn’t surprise her to see families lining the streets by morning, suitcases in hand as they rushed their children as far away from the invading forces as they could.
The next day, Aletta was trying to keep her class settled when another teacher came rushing in, her face pale.
‘Miss, would you please come into the hall with me?’
Aletta smiled to her children and excused herself, closing the door behind her as the other teacher thrust a single page of newsprint into her hands.
The Netherlands has Surrendered.
Aletta felt as if the world had stopped around her as she read the words over and over again.
‘What do we tell them?’ she finally whispered. ‘The children, what do we say?’
‘We stay calm and say nothing,’ the teacher said, grabbing hold of Aletta’s hand and holding it tight. ‘Their mothers will start arriving for them soon, and it will be sheer panic when they do, so we just stay calm.’
Aletta nodded, feeling numb all over, and when the other teacher left, she took a moment to breathe and steady herself. Then she walked into her classroom with a bright smile.
‘I think it’s story time everyone!’
Later that morning Aletta walked home, the news finally sinking in now that she’d seen all her children safely collected, her class empty. Her mother had come, as worried for her as the other mothers had been for their children, and she was grateful for the company.
Newsprints drifted down the streets, as if people had read the four printed words and then just let them go, like balloon strings slipping from the hands of children.
As she looked around, people were either silent, clearly in shock, hurrying for home, or dropping to their knees.
One old man she could see had crumpled, his face streaked with tears, his body unable to hold him upright in the face of such devastating news.
It was like the day martial law had been declared, only worse. Then, it had been a stark surprise, but this . . . this was the very worst news.
‘Let’s go home,’ she said to her mother, tucking her arm tightly through hers and pointing them in the direction of their apartment.
She glanced around, expecting soldiers, but so far there were none in their neighbourhood.
The sounds of fighting only hours earlier had been clearly audible, but for now, there was silence.
Aletta’s stomach churned. In truth, she didn’t know what they were supposed to do or what to expect, but going to the relative safety of home felt like the only sensible thing to do in the face of such news, especially as schools had closed early.
They hurried home, walking as fast as they could, and Aletta stayed alert, eyes darting around the streets.
She felt as if she couldn’t properly catch her breath until they reached their apartment block, and her hands were shaking so much that her mother had to take the keys from her to unlock the door.
They immediately locked the front door behind them and her mother made them coffee as Aletta went to the window and stared out, pressing her cheek to the cold glass. She’d known this was coming, they all had, but it didn’t make it any easier to accept.
It felt like she’d been standing there forever, but only minutes had passed before her mother pressed a steaming hot cup of coffee into her hands.
‘Maybe we’ll have something stronger when your father gets home,’ her mother murmured.
Aletta nodded, blowing on the drink as she kept looking out of the window.
And then she saw what she’d feared the most. A soldier in an unfamiliar uniform. He is wearing a Nazi uniform.
Aletta swallowed, her fingers tightening around the cup as her mother shifted closer to her, their shoulders touching.
‘They’re here,’ she said, her voice barely a whisper. Where are you, Father? Please come home. Come home.
She didn’t say anything about her fears to her mother though – she’d be worried enough as it was.
When she finally glanced at her mother, she saw a single tear slipping from the corner of her eye and sliding down her cheek. She bit down on her bottom lip as her own tears formed, the emotion feeling as if it were lodged in her chest, fighting to come out.
Nothing is ever going to be the same again.
Soldiers would be patrolling their streets, taking over the city they loved, speaking another language. But worse than that, what would happen to the Jewish families in their neighbourhood? Where would they go to be safe? Where had little Else and the other children and their families gone?
She watched two Nazi soldiers laughing and cheering, with another two following close behind. They had conquered the Netherlands, and she imagined today would be a celebration for them before they began to hunt down those they sought to destroy.
‘The underground work,’ Aletta began, blinking away a fresh wave of tears. ‘This changes everything; this makes it even more important.’
‘If we’re caught, now that they’re here, what we’re doing . . .’ her mother said with a gasp.
‘Don’t,’ Aletta said, squeezing her hand. ‘Don’t say it. Don’t let fear stop you from doing what we need to do. That’s what they want.’
Her mother dropped her head to Aletta’s shoulder as they continued to stare out of the window, as more soldiers came, as if there were a never-ending trail of them. ‘Heaven help us,’ her mother whispered.
Aletta sipped her coffee, swallowing it down and trying to steady her mind. What they were planning to do did come with more risk now. They’d known this was coming. Her only mistake was naively not realising how soon Nazi boots would echo down the cobbled streets of her home city.