Chapter Fifteen Aletta
Chapter Fifteen
Aletta
Harry had been with them for two weeks now, and although not a day passed when Aletta wasn’t terrified of him being discovered, she had started to believe that they could keep him hidden indefinitely without being caught.
There was no reason that she knew of for anyone to come looking for him, but it didn’t stop her parents from being on tenterhooks.
She knew that every morning her father left with fear in his bones, although that may have been as much to do with what he had to face each day. Her mother was more pragmatic, but Aletta noticed the weight she’d lost from worrying, and the way she jumped whenever there was an unexpected noise.
Aletta wished she could write to Cecilia about their unexpected house guest. Harry was . . . she didn’t even know how to describe him, but he’d brought with him a lightness that Aletta hadn’t realised how much she’d missed since Cecilia had left.
‘Morning,’ Aletta said, sounding out a little knock on the wardrobe door.
‘Morning.’
Harry’s hair was dishevelled from sleep, and she found herself glancing at his bare chest as he reached for his shirt.
‘I, ah, I can—’
‘It’s fine,’ he said, grinning as he pulled the shirt on. ‘It’s like a furnace in here at night, that’s all.’
‘A furnace?’ she asked, trying to identify the English word.
He fanned at his face, and she realised he was trying to tell her how warm it was.
‘Ahh, like verwarming?’ she asked, trying not to laugh at his attempt to act out the word to her.
She nodded to indicate she understood, because if she were honest, she too was finding it rather hot right now.
Her throat was dry and she cleared it as her eyes dipped to glance at the buttons he was doing up.
Stop staring at him! she scolded herself, but still found it almost impossible to tear her gaze away.
‘I just wanted to bring you some breakfast and check your wound.’
Harry gave her an easy smile and held up his shirt at the side, and Aletta dropped to her knees and carefully took off the bandage, checking beneath it.
‘It’s looking good,’ she said. The skin was pink, the stitches had held well, and she was nervously optimistic that he was going to be fine. ‘It’s healed very nicely.’
‘I’d say it has something to do with the nurse I’ve had doting on me,’ he said with a grin.
Aletta pushed back, putting a little distance between them, but Harry reached for her anyway. His fingers closed softly around her wrist before releasing and coming to rest on her hand. She wasn’t sure what the word doting meant, but she could infer that it was meant to flatter her.
‘I mean it, Aletta,’ he said, his eyes searching hers. ‘I would never have survived without you. I won’t ever forget what you did for me.’
She glanced at his hand over hers before looking up at him and seeing the earnest expression in his eyes.
‘I just did what anyone would have done.’
‘You and I both know that’s not true,’ he said, his voice husky. ‘Let’s not pretend that just anyone would have dragged me home and convinced their parents to take me in.’
His mouth kicked up at one side and it made her smile straight back at him. She tentatively moved her fingers just the slightest lift upwards.
‘Well, I did what any good person would have done,’ she clarified. ‘But honestly, Harry, I keep thinking about the way I found you, what would have happened if—’
His fingers tightened over hers. ‘But they didn’t, because you saved me,’ he said. ‘It’s not worth thinking about what might have been. I’m here and I’m safe.’ Harry’s voice dropped. ‘Because of you.’
Aletta’s heart started to beat too fast then, and her breath caught in her throat, as she glanced down at her hand which was still covered by Harry’s.
‘Aletta? Are you in there?’
She withdrew and clasped her hands together at her mother’s call, her cheeks burning as Harry buttoned the rest of his shirt.
‘I’m just checking Harry,’ she called back, as her mother’s head appeared in the doorway.
‘Why don’t you come out for breakfast, Harry?’ her mother asked. ‘I’m sure you could do with a little air, it’s very stuffy in here.’
He smiled and thanked her mother, and Aletta excused herself and went to her bedroom, needing a moment on her own. She leaned against the wall, head back, eyes shut, remembering the feel of Harry’s fingers. And she wondered what might have happened if her mother hadn’t interrupted.
Or maybe he’s just being nice to you. She sighed, wishing for the hundredth time that week that Cecilia was there to confide in, and decided that she was going to have to write her friend and tell her about Harry after all.
She wouldn’t give anything away, but she had to tell someone about him, otherwise she was going to burst.
A short time later, she found Harry sitting at their kitchen table, being fussed over by her mother, and Aletta poured herself a coffee and sat across from him.
They were laughing about something he’d said, and Aletta was happy to just listen to him, liking how at ease he was with her mother.
For someone deeply worried about the war, there were moments like this that made her believe the world wasn’t imploding around them.
She was only grateful that they all spoke English, which wasn’t common in many households.
Her father had learnt it at university and her mother had always had an excellent ear for languages.
‘Do you both have work to do today?’ Harry asked.
Aletta realised he was looking at her, and she nodded. ‘After school, I have some typing to do,’ she said. ‘Sorry, you must hate it when we have to squeeze in there with you.’
‘I wish I could come to see you teaching,’ he said. ‘I bet the children love you.’
Her cheeks heated again. ‘Well, I try to make it as fun as possible for them. Although I don’t have many children left now. More than half the class has left for the countryside, or their parents are keeping them home.’
‘Teach me something in Dutch,’ he said. ‘Give me something to practise.’
She laughed. ‘Like what?’
‘How about something helpful, in case I’m asked what happened to me,’ he said, before grinning. ‘Teach me, I was saved by a beautiful Dutch girl.’
She shook her head, her cheeks positively igniting now. But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her embarrassment.
‘Ik werd gered door een mooi Nederlands meisje,’ she said, with a grin.
Her mother came into the kitchen then, her eyebrows raised, and she just shook her head at Harry’s terrible attempt at repeating the phrase, which made both Aletta and Harry laugh.
‘Your mother is brave, helping with the Resistance,’ Harry said, once her mother had said goodbye and left the apartment. ‘Has she always been like that?’
Aletta shook her head, keeping her voice low when she replied. ‘If you’d asked me before the occupation, I’d have said there’s no way she’d be involved in something like that. But something changed in her when the Nazis arrived here. She just, I don’t know, she just decided she wanted to step up.’
‘It’s amazing,’ he said, and Aletta felt him watching her as she lifted her coffee cup. ‘I can’t imagine my mother doing anything like that.’
‘What’s she like?’ Aletta asked. ‘Your mother, I mean.’
Harry didn’t reply straight away, and she wondered whether she shouldn’t have asked him. But when he did answer, she was pleased that she had.
‘My mother would love you,’ he said, his eyes softening the moment he spoke. ‘I’m the oldest of four boys, and she’s spent my whole life feeding us, tending to our skinned knees and showering us with kisses.’
Aletta felt she could almost see his mother in her mind. ‘And your father? You mentioned once before that he’s very different from your mother.’
Harry’s face hardened then. ‘He’s everything my mother is not.’
‘I’m sorry, I—’
‘You have nothing to apologise for,’ he said, finishing his toast. ‘Thankfully my brothers all take after my mother, and he’s hardly ever home anyway. I suppose you can’t miss what you don’t have.’
They sat for a moment longer before Aletta rose to clear the dishes. But when she glanced back, she saw that Harry was looking at their bookshelf.
‘Do you want me to find you some books?’
He laughed. ‘Well, that would be great if I could read Dutch.’
Aletta felt so foolish. Why hadn’t she thought of that!
‘But maybe you could translate and read to me tonight?’ he said. ‘If it’s not too much trouble.’
Aletta imagined lying there at night beside Harry, their heads propped up on pillows as she read aloud, and it sent a very unexpected thrill through her body. She quickly cleared her throat and pushed the thoughts away.
‘Of course. Any requests?’ she asked.
‘An adventure novel,’ he said with a grin.
Aletta laughed and turned back to her dishes. ‘All right, an adventure novel it is.’
And just like that, she suddenly couldn’t wait until nightfall.
Aletta had found herself looking forward to dinner each night, now that her father had relaxed the rules around Harry being allowed to join them.
In the beginning, he’d barely been allowed out of the little room, except to stretch his legs in the morning and use the bathroom, but now her father had asked if he’d like to join them for dinner.
She wasn’t sure if his relaxing of the rules was to do with the length of time Harry had been with them, and perhaps that he no longer expected anyone to be looking for him, but regardless, she was just happy to spend more time with him.
There was something about Harry too, a cheerfulness despite what had happened to him that seemed to lift everyone’s spirits, and Aletta had noticed how often her mother was smiling now, as if Harry had somehow eased some of her worries.
Or maybe he was simply providing a welcome distraction for them with his presence.