might squeak horribly, alerting the servants that there was someone in these rooms. You're all right though?
I'm fine. He gobbled the sandwich quickly. You didn't have to do this. And then he grinned at her But I'm glad you did. He looked younger somehow, as though years of care had been dropped from his face. He looked worn, and different now that he was unshaven, but still, he didn't have the gaunt, pained look he had worn yesterday. How was school today?
Awful. I worried about you.
You shouldn't have. I'm fine here. It was odd, he had only hidden there for a few hours, but already he felt cut off from the world. He missed the buses, the noise, his office, the telephone, even the sound of boots goose-stepping down the street. It all seemed so remote here. As though he had drifted into another world. A faded, forgotten world of pink satin, in the boudoir of a woman long since gone. Together they stared around the small study and their eyes met at the same time. What was she like ' your mother?
Ariana looked around her strangely. I'm not sure. I never really knew her. She died when I was nine.
For an instant she remembered Gerhard at the cemetery and then standing in the rain beside her father, holding tightly to his hand. She was very beautiful. I'm not sure I know much more than that.
I saw her once. She was incredible. I thought she was the most exquisite woman I'd ever seen. Ariana nodded.
She used to come upstairs to see us, in evening clothes and smelling of perfume. Her dresses made wonderful sounds as she crossed the room, the swishing noises of silk and taffeta and satin. She always seemed terribly mysterious to me. I suppose she always will.
Ariana looked at him with her big sad eyes. Have you thought about where you're going? Speaking to him in the whisper they had to use to converse, she seemed like a child asking him a secret, and he smiled.
More or less. I think your father's right. Switzerland first. Then maybe when the war is over, I'll see if I can get to the States. My father had a cousin there, I'm not even sure if he's still alive. But it's a start.
Won't you come back here? She looked shocked for a moment as he shook his head. Never, Max?
Never, And then he sighed softly. I never want to see this place again. It seemed strange to Ariana that he should cut himself off forever from what had been his whole life. But then, perhaps he was right to shut the door so firmly. She wondered if it was like her father's never reentering her mother's bedroom until the night before. There were places one simply never returned to. One couldn't bear the pain. When she looked up at him again, he was smiling gently. Will you and your father come and see me in America after the war?
She laughed softly. That seems a long way off.
I hope not. And then, without thinking, he reached out and took her hand. He held it for a long moment, and then she bent slowly toward him and kissed him softly on the top of his head. There were no more words needed between them; he only held her, and she gently stroked his hair. Soon he made her leave, telling her it was dangerous for her to be there. But the truth was, he was thinking the unthinkable while hiding out in his old friend's house.
Later that evening Walmar came to see him, and he looked far more tired and subdued than Max. He already had the travel papers and a German passport in the name of Ernst Josef Frei. They had used the picture from Max's passport, and the official seal they'd stamped on it looked real.
Quite a job isn't it? Max stared at it with fascination and then glanced back at Walmar sitting uncomfortably in a pink chair. What now?
A map, some money. I also got you a travel permit You can make it close to the border on the train. After that, my friend, you're on your own. But you should be able to make it he paused for a moment with this. He handed him an envelope filled with money, enough to keep him handsomely for several weeks. I didn't dare take out
I'm fine. He gobbled the sandwich quickly. You didn't have to do this. And then he grinned at her But I'm glad you did. He looked younger somehow, as though years of care had been dropped from his face. He looked worn, and different now that he was unshaven, but still, he didn't have the gaunt, pained look he had worn yesterday. How was school today?
Awful. I worried about you.
You shouldn't have. I'm fine here. It was odd, he had only hidden there for a few hours, but already he felt cut off from the world. He missed the buses, the noise, his office, the telephone, even the sound of boots goose-stepping down the street. It all seemed so remote here. As though he had drifted into another world. A faded, forgotten world of pink satin, in the boudoir of a woman long since gone. Together they stared around the small study and their eyes met at the same time. What was she like ' your mother?
Ariana looked around her strangely. I'm not sure. I never really knew her. She died when I was nine.
For an instant she remembered Gerhard at the cemetery and then standing in the rain beside her father, holding tightly to his hand. She was very beautiful. I'm not sure I know much more than that.
I saw her once. She was incredible. I thought she was the most exquisite woman I'd ever seen. Ariana nodded.
She used to come upstairs to see us, in evening clothes and smelling of perfume. Her dresses made wonderful sounds as she crossed the room, the swishing noises of silk and taffeta and satin. She always seemed terribly mysterious to me. I suppose she always will.
Ariana looked at him with her big sad eyes. Have you thought about where you're going? Speaking to him in the whisper they had to use to converse, she seemed like a child asking him a secret, and he smiled.
More or less. I think your father's right. Switzerland first. Then maybe when the war is over, I'll see if I can get to the States. My father had a cousin there, I'm not even sure if he's still alive. But it's a start.
Won't you come back here? She looked shocked for a moment as he shook his head. Never, Max?
Never, And then he sighed softly. I never want to see this place again. It seemed strange to Ariana that he should cut himself off forever from what had been his whole life. But then, perhaps he was right to shut the door so firmly. She wondered if it was like her father's never reentering her mother's bedroom until the night before. There were places one simply never returned to. One couldn't bear the pain. When she looked up at him again, he was smiling gently. Will you and your father come and see me in America after the war?
She laughed softly. That seems a long way off.
I hope not. And then, without thinking, he reached out and took her hand. He held it for a long moment, and then she bent slowly toward him and kissed him softly on the top of his head. There were no more words needed between them; he only held her, and she gently stroked his hair. Soon he made her leave, telling her it was dangerous for her to be there. But the truth was, he was thinking the unthinkable while hiding out in his old friend's house.
Later that evening Walmar came to see him, and he looked far more tired and subdued than Max. He already had the travel papers and a German passport in the name of Ernst Josef Frei. They had used the picture from Max's passport, and the official seal they'd stamped on it looked real.
Quite a job isn't it? Max stared at it with fascination and then glanced back at Walmar sitting uncomfortably in a pink chair. What now?
A map, some money. I also got you a travel permit You can make it close to the border on the train. After that, my friend, you're on your own. But you should be able to make it he paused for a moment with this. He handed him an envelope filled with money, enough to keep him handsomely for several weeks. I didn't dare take out
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