Out of the Hitler Time trilogy: When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit, Bombs on Aunt Dainty, A Small Person Far Away. Judith Kerr
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pleased. Then Monsieur Fernand danced with Francine, and Anna danced with Papa, and Madame Fernand said she did not feel like dancing just yet because she could see that Max would absolutely hate it, and after a while Monsieur Fernand said, “Let’s move on.”
It was cooler now and Anna did not feel at all tired as they wandered through the crowded streets. There were accordions and people dancing everywhere, and every so often they stopped and joined in. Some cafés were serving free wine to celebrate the occasion and when they felt like a rest the grown-ups stopped for a drink and the children had cassis, which was blackcurrant juice. They saw the river shining in the moonlight and the cathedral of Notre Dame squatting like a great dark creature in the middle. At one time they walked along the bank and under the bridges, and there were accordion players and people dancing here too. They went on and on until Anna lost all sense of time and just followed Monsieur Fernand in a happy daze.
Suddenly Max said, “What is that funny light in the sky?”
It was the dawn.
By this time they had reached the main Paris market, and carts loaded with fruit and vegetables were rumbling over the cobblestones all about them.
“Hungry?” asked Monsieur Fernand.
It was ridiculous since they had already eaten two suppers, but everyone was starving. There was no accordion music here, only people getting ready for the day’s work, and a woman in a small café was serving bowls of steaming onion soup. They ate great bowlfuls, sitting on wooden benches with the market people, and mopped up the remains with hunks of bread. When they came out of the café it was daylight.
“Now you can put the children to bed,” said Monsieur Fernand. “They have seen the fourteenth of July.”
After a sleepy farewell they rode home on the Metro among late revellers like themselves and people going to work, and collapsed into their beds.
“We never had a fourteenth of July in Germany,” said Anna just before she fell asleep.
“Well, of course not,” said Max. “We didn’t have the French Revolution!”
“I know that,” said Anna crossly and added, just as sleep was about to overtake her, “but wasn’t it lovely!”
Then the summer holidays were upon them. Just as they were wondering how to spend them, a letter arrived from Herr Zwirn inviting the whole family to the Gasthof Zwirn as his guests – and just as they were wondering where to get the money for the fares, Papa was asked to write three articles for a French newspaper. This paper paid him so much more than his normal fees from the Daily Parisian that it solved the problem.
Everyone was delighted at the prospect, and to top it all on the last day of term Max brought home a good report. Mama and Papa could hardly believe their eyes when they saw it. There was not a single “Does not try” or “Shows no interest”. Instead there were words like “intelligent” and “hard-working” and the headmaster’s comment at the bottom of the sheet said that Max had made remarkable progress. This made Mama feel so cheerful that she absent-mindedly bade quite a fond farewell to Grete, who was going to Austria at last. They were all so pleased to get rid of her that they felt they must be extra nice to her, and Mama even gave her a small scarf.
“I don’t know if this sort of thing is worn in Austria,” said Grete glumly when she saw it, but she took it anyway. And then they themselves set off for Switzerland.
The Gasthof Zwirn was quite unchanged. Herr and Frau Zwirn were as kind and warm-hearted as ever, and after the heat in Paris the air by the lake was wonderfully fresh. It was nice to hear the familiar German-Swiss dialect and to be able to understand everything people said instead of only half, and Franz and Vreneli were ready to pick up their friendships with Anna and Max exactly where they had left off. In no time at all Vreneli was bringing Anna up to date about the red-haired boy who had apparently taken to looking at Vreneli in a certain way – a warm sort of way, said Vreneli – which she could not describe but which appeared to please her. Franz carried Max off to fish with the same old fishing rod, and they all played the same games and walked along the same paths in the woods which they had enjoyed so much the previous year. It was all exactly as it had been, and yet there was something about this very sameness that made Anna and Max feel a little like strangers. How could the Zwirns’ lives have stayed so much the same when their own had become so different?
“You’d think just something would have changed,” said Max, and Franz asked, “What sort of thing?” but Max did not know himself.
One day Anna was walking through the village with Vreneli and Roesli when they met Herr Graupe.
“Welcome back to our beautiful Switzerland!” he cried, shaking her hand enthusiastically, and soon he was asking her all sorts of questions about school in France. He was convinced that nothing could compare with his own village school and Anna found herself sounding almost apologetic when she explained that she liked it all very much.
“Really?” said Herr Graupe incredulously, while she described the work, and her lunches with Clothilde in the school kitchen, and Madame Socrate.
And then an odd thing happened to her. Herr Graupe was asking her something about the French school-leaving age which she did not know – but instead of telling him so in German she found herself suddenly shrugging her shoulders and saying, “Je ne sais pas” in her best Parisian accent. She was horrified as soon as she had said it. She knew he would think that she was showing off. But she hadn’t been. She could not even understand where the words had come from. It was as though somewhere inside her something were secretly thinking in French – and that was ridiculous. Since she had never been able to think in French in Paris, why should she suddenly start now?
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