Читать книгу Out of the Hitler Time trilogy: When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit, Bombs on Aunt Dainty, A Small Person Far Away - Judith Kerr - Страница 26

The dressmaking session at the Fernands was a great success. Madame Fernand was just as nice as Anna remembered her, and she cut out Great-Aunt Sarah’s cloth so cleverly that there was enough for a pair of grey shorts for Max as well as a coat, a dress and a skirt for Anna. When Mama offered to help with the sewing Madame Fernand looked at her and laughed.

“You go and play the piano,” she said, “I’ll get on with this.”

“But I’ve even brought some sewing things,” said Mama. She dug in her handbag and produced an elderly reel of white cotton and a needle.

“My dear,” said Madame Fernand quite kindly, “I wouldn’t trust you to hem a handkerchief.”

So Mama played the piano at one end of the Fernands’ pleasant sitting room while Madame Fernand sewed at the other, and Anna and Max went off to play with the Fernand’s daughter Francine.

Max had had grave doubts about Francine before they came.

“I don’t want to play with a girl!” he had said, and even claimed that he could not come because of his homework.

“You’ve never been so keen on your homework before!” said Mama crossly, but it was not really fair because lately, in his efforts to learn French as fast as possible, Max had become much more conscientious about school. He was deeply offended and scowled at everyone until they arrived at the Fernands’ flat and Francine opened the door for them. Then his scowl quickly disappeared. She was a remarkably pretty girl with long honey-coloured hair and large grey eyes.

“You must be Francine,” said Max and added untruthfully but in surprisingly good French, “I have so much looked forward to meeting you!”

Francine had quite a lot of toys and a big white cat. The cat immediately took possession of Anna and sat on her lap while Francine searched for something in her toy cupboard. At last she found it.

“This is what I got for my birthday,” she said and produced a games compendium very like the one Anna and Max had owned in Germany.

Max’s eyes met Anna’s over the cat’s white fur.

“Can I see?” he asked and had it open almost before Francine agreed. He took a long time looking at the contents fingering the dice, the chessmen, the different kinds of playing cards.

“We used to have a box of games like this,” he said at last. “Only ours had dominoes as well.”

Francine looked a little put out at having her birthday present belittled.

“What happened to yours?” she asked.

“We had to leave it behind,” said Max and added gloomily, “I expect Hitler plays with it now.”

Francine laughed. “Well, you’ll have to use this one instead,” she said. “As I have no brothers or sisters I don’t often have anyone to play with.”

After this they played Ludo and Snakes and Ladders all afternoon. It was nice because the white cat sat on Anna’s lap and there was no need for her to speak much French during the games. The white cat seemed quite happy to have dice thrown over its head and did not want to get down even when Madame Fernand called Anna to try on the new clothes. For tea it ate a bit of iced bun which Anna gave it, and afterwards it climbed straight back on to her lap and smiled at her through its long white fur. When it was time to leave it followed her to the front door.

“What a pretty cat,” said Mama when she saw it.

Anna was longing to tell her how it had sat on her lap while she had played Ludo but thought it would be rude to speak German when Madame Fernand could not understand it. So, very haltingly, she explained in French.

“I thought you told me Anna spoke hardly any French,” said Madame Fernand.

Mama looked very pleased. “She is beginning to,” she said.

“Beginning to!” exclaimed Madame Fernand. “I’ve never seen two children learn a language so fast. Max sounds almost like a French boy at times and as for Anna – only a month or two ago she could hardly say a word, and now she understands everything!”

It was not quite true. There were still a lot of things Anna could not understand – but she was delighted just the same. She had been so impressed with Max’s rapid progress that she had not noticed how much she herself had improved.

Madame Fernand wanted them all to come again the following Sunday so that Anna could have a final fitting, but Mama said, no, next time all the Fernands must come to them – and thus began a series of visits which both families found so pleasant that it soon became a regular arrangement.

Papa especially enjoyed Monsieur Fernand’s company. He was a large clever-looking man and often, while the children played in the dining room at home, Anna could hear his deep voice and Papa’s in the bedroom-turned-sitting-room next door. They seemed to have endless things to talk about and sometimes Anna could hear them laughing loudly together. This always pleased her because she had hated the tired look on Papa’s face when he had heard about Great-Aunt Sarah’s cloth. She had noticed since that this look occasionally returned – usually when Mama was talking about money. Monsieur Fernand was always able to keep the look at bay.

The new clothes were soon finished and turned out to be the nicest Anna had ever had. She went to show them to Great-Aunt Sarah the very first time she wore them and took with her a poem she had composed specially as a thanks offering. It described all the clothes in detail and ended with the lines.

“And so I am the happy wearer

Of all these nice clothes from Aunt Sarah.”

“Goodness, child,” said Great-Aunt Sarah when she read it. “You’ll be such a writer yet, like your father!”

She seemed terribly pleased with it.

Anna was pleased too because somehow the poem seemed to make it quite definite that the gift of cloth had not been charity – and also it was the first time she had ever managed to write a poem about anything other than a disaster.