by MaeEadie
"Whoa! Hello Greta!" despite Florence's need for seclusion, she was overjoyed to finally see her friend again, the isolation had been getting to her.
"Flory! Where on earth have you been? We've all been missing you!"
"I've been pretty sick. Yeh know, that virus that's going around at the moment?" regretfully, Florence noticed she was improving her lying skills. She wished she could be good at being honest, not lying.
"Oh, you poor thing! That's absolutely dreadful. Are you better now?" Florence tried hard not to laugh, Greta had always been gullible. Her improved lying skills weren't even needed.
"Ja, I'm fine, danke Greta."
"Gut, so you can come out now, can't you?" Greta asked expectantly.
"Ummm... Well, not really..."
"Why not?" Greta questioned. Florence's heart sunk. Her time was up. No more hiding. She was going to have to face the world again. She knew she couldn't tell Greta why she was afraid to leave the house and she didn't want to lie to her friend yet again.
"Oh, nothing. Don't worry about it." Florence said in dismay. "I'll be out in a little bit."
Florence trudged up to her room, dragging her feet as much as she could. She dawdled in getting her cardigan on and purposely put her shoes on wrong, having to re-tie them. After much time wasting, Florence stepped out her front door, stepping out of her safety bubble too. She had to force herself away, tearing her eyes off the front door.
'Concentrate Florence, no give aways.' she told herself, running up to Greta.
"Finally! I thought you'd changed your mind! Come on Flory, let's go."
Florence spent the day with all the girls from her little school. While they giggled and gossiped, she stood off to the side, biting her tongue. But eventually, she gave in to her curiosity.
"Hey, do any of you know where Ben is?" she blurted out. They all stopped and stared at her, having forgotten she was there. Finally Céline answered.
"He's been with his brothers for the past few days. No one's seen him without you before and to be honest, he's looking utterly miserable." the others nodded vigorously in agreement.
"Ja, I recon you should go and look for him Flory."
"Me too."
"Mhmm." yet again they all agreed.
'Do any of you have your own ideas?' Florence wondered, amused. "Alright." Gladly, Florence turned on her heels and left. She felt their judging eyes stare into her, ideas for rumours brewing in their little heads. "See you all at school. Looking forward to all the new gossip about me." she called back, smirking.
Florence ran back out of the cobbled streets of the town centre and back up the road, towards Ben's house. Her heart pounded in her mouth. Will he be angry? Will he be suspicious? Will he actually want to see her? Will he even be home? She turned into their street, breathing hard. As she walked up the Seelenfreund's garden path and knocked on their old, wooden door, she half expected Ben to open then slam the door in her face. She had been a terrible friend, and she knew it. But, despite everything, the door opened and stayed open. In the doorway stood Ben, miserable. His shoulders sagged, his lips turned down and his eyes were heavily hooded. He looked up and his face lit up like a match. He threw his arms around her.
*
On the front doorstep,
they stood there,
embracing.
I let them have it.
I caved in.
I do that sometimes.
I can be generous.
*
Even though Florence had shut him out for weeks, ignoring all his attempts of consolation, he held nothing against her. On that warm summer’s day, not a bad thought for Florence crossed Ben's mind. All he could think about was how much he loved this girl, his only true friend, and how overjoyed he was that she had finally acknowledged him again. Even Flory's secret could never break their friendship.
And that means more than you realise.
Secrets are destruction.
Refuge in Switzerland
20th July 1938
For six or so years, Florence had been hearing tales and stories about refugees. But never had it occurred to her, that these refugees could reach her home. Until that July, she hadn't really thought about the people on the run and had dismissed any news of them. This childish approach had set Florence up for a sure surprise.
*
The rain poured down, running off the windows of the speeding train. Lisette stared up into the sky, unmoved for several hours. Her hand was numb, pressed against the cold glass of the window.
"Maman? Maman?"
"Ouah?"
"How much further is it?" Lisette's mother shrugged and closed her eyes again.
"Je ne sais pas, Lisette. Ça suffit, d'accord?" Not long after, Lisette's mother was asleep again, mouth open and head tilted back. Lisette suppressed a sigh and went back to gazing out the darkened window.
The black train steamed on through the night, through the rain and over the French border. The torrential rain blanketed them, hiding them from onlookers.
But still, Lisette and her family trembled in their shoes.
Running from danger was no fun.
Lisette hadn't slept in more than twenty four hours and she was utterly delirious, yet sleep wouldn't come. Ever since leaving her home in Orléans, her heart hadn't stopped racing. The past two months had seen them driven out of their house. That was when things had started to go wrong, to say the least.
Their home had become more and more dangerous every day, so they had left, in the dead of night, tiptoeing and making not a sound.
Right from the beginning, Lisette's family, the Meles, had been against the Nazi party. They didn't agree with their decisions or choices. As soon as Oliver had been born Gabriel Mele had fled France for Switzerland with the infant Oliver, a very young Florence and Grace, leaving his wife buried in France. Yet Lisette's mother and father refused to leave. Her father, Salomon, had a good social position, amongst the highest of ranks. Lisette grew up with the good name her father had made for her.
She had always been popular at school, all the girls had wanted to be best friends with her, all the boys had competed for her attention. Life had been going well for Lisette. Until 1933. When she was only seven years old, Hitler had begun taking power, sparking controversy in her father’s social group. Their passionate whispers had shot through Lisette's house, strange and frightening. The group of men began to speak louder, voicing their opinions and publicly creating havoc. Nazi enthusiasts noticed the small, insignificant group and warned them.
"Keep your wretched mouths shut or don't bother turning up to work." Most of the men used their common sense and stopped, immediately leaving the group. But for the rest, Salomon included, the threat only fuelled their anger further. Lisette had watched his tongue become quicker and his eyes gain hatred every day. His men began writing anti-Nazi articles for the newspaper and magazines. They held public meetings, shouting for support, shouting exhortation. But yet again the Nazi supporters threatened them and yet again, Salomon's protestors ignored them. Each side's spiteful glares matched, strengthening equally. Instead of backing away, their protests only intensified. They wrote more fiercely, they shouted more often and the fire that fuelled their anger raged on.
Lisette couldn't stand it.
No one at her school wanted to talk to her, let alone be seen with her. They were afraid of her, afraid that if they associated themselves with her, they would be taken away and punished as a traitor. Lisette spent her school days hiding in the shadows, avoiding the older students who were threats to her. Each day she would return with one more bruise or another cut, from a stick or a fist. Despite her obvious suffering, she went unnoticed at home. Her father was out protesting, her grandmother spent her days complaining. She never noticed anything but her inward world anyway. She had no close friends to console her, but worst of all, her mother hardly even looked her way. She was always agitated, living in fear of what her husband’s actions would lead to.
And there was the baby coming. Lisette was an insignificant little girl who just got in everyone's way.
Five years trickled away, as though through a gradually blocking drain. Life was pretty darned. But what clogged the last opening in their time-drain was bigger than everything else that had happened to them. The Nazis had had enough of their rebellion and took action fast. They began to isolate the Meles, cutting off their supplies and resources. They began with the unimportant things. They took away their rights to the cinemas, the libraries and swimming pools. This was disappointing for Lisette, but she got over it quickly. Still, Salomon pressed on with his protests. So the Nazis climbed to the next rung. The Meles couldn't go out at the same time as everyone else. An armed Nazi made sure of this. But when Salomon kept going, the problems really began. They were forbidden from working and Lisette couldn't go to school. This wasn't so bad for her, she had been wagging school for several weeks. Lisette was coping. That was until several weeks later, when the Nazis confined them to their home. They couldn't leave to buy food or pay taxes and unless Salomon surrendered, it would stay that way.
Lisette was caught up in the middle of a nasty game. The Meles were frantic. Their bank accounts were nearly empty, having had no jobs for many weeks and their pantries were emptying dangerously fast too. It was only a matter of time before they would have to beg for forgiveness.
Beg for food. Beg for water. Beg for freedom.
Salomon knew that he couldn't do that to himself. But he also knew that he had to save his family. Nothing would put his family in danger, not if he could help it. Fortunately, he could help it.
So in the dead of night, they each climbed out of the window, quivering with fear, clambering up onto the rooftop. Édith, Lisette's mother, and her baby son were last onto the roof, hauled up by Salomon. As quietly as they could, they tiptoed along the rooftops, avoiding loose tiles. Claire, Lisette's Grandmère, was struggling, unaccustomed to swift and silent movements. Breaths were raspy in their throats. Silent screams echoing around their heads made them cringe, certain someone would hear. Once they had reached the end of the rooftops, one by one they climbed down the footholds on the chimney's side, their hearts skipping a beat when passing a window. They all were dripping with perspiration when they reunited on the ground.
Don't stop. No time for breathing.
Sticking to the shadows, they hurried through the city, toward the station. The night had never felt so inhospitable. The dark seemed thinner. The air seemed heavier. The oxygen seemed non-existent. With only their passports and a change of clothes, they moved swiftly and made good progress. They had reached the station long before the sun had reached them. They boarded the first train to Switzerland and were out of the city before even the babies had awoken with their early morning cries.
Lisette clutched her empty, rumbling stomach. In the past few months her life had changed dramatically and she hadn’t yet caught up. A burning hatred was kindling inside her. Sure, she hated the Nazis and what they did to her. But at that moment, every last inch of anger was shot into the dirty forehead of her father. She couldn't even look at him. How could he have been so selfish as to put their family in such danger? Their lives had done a 180 degree turn and had undergone major change, unwelcome change, and it was all because of him. How Lisette wished her father could have just kept his mouth shut, like the rest of them. She could have been sleeping in her own warm bed with her own walls around her. But unfortunately, that was not reality. Lisette was completely miserable, her spirits lower than ever before. Her heart sagged in her chest. A small tear spilled down her pale cheeks before she wiped it away vigorously.
'I won't cry!' She told herself. 'I'm not a stupid baby. No one needs another baby.'
Outside, the summer storm raged. The obsolete train rattled on beneath the daunting sky, filled with angry clouds. Steadily, it rode toward Zürich, riding to safety.
A Mele surprise
27th July 1938
As Florence walked down the road she couldn't help but sing to herself. The past few days had been like living in heaven to her. She had forced herself back out into the outside world and she had no regrets about it. Even a day working with Frau Walburga couldn't dampen her spirits. The front gate of the Seelenfreund's house clicked shut as Florence bounded up to the front door and let herself in. She knew that house like the back of her hand and could navigate her way around with her eyes closed. She had been in that household too many times to count since she moved there, eleven years prior. Three years before Grace went missing. She often helped out Frau Seelenfreund, baking biscuits or running errands for her. In the Seelenfreund house, she was practically family.
"Ben?" Florence called up the stairs.
"Ja, up here." he called back, not surprised in the least that Florence was in his home. She leaped up two stairs at a time, holding her skirt above her knees. She walked straight into the room that Ben shared with his brother Vinzent.
"Hey Flory."
"Hey Ben, Vinzent." Vinzent nodded in response, not looking up from his faded comic book.
Ben and Florence left Vinzent for the garden. The sun was shining and the grass was a luscious green. They kicked Ben's well-worn football to one another, chatting light heartedly. Their words joined the soft thud of the faded leather hitting their feet. Since Florence's 'reappearance', they had spent all their time together, feeling they could make up for all those hours alone. The words tumbled out of their mouths on strings, the other reeling the other end of the line in. No one else's opinions mattered to them as much as each other's did. The sun was dulling and time was running away. When Florence realised, the sky was already dusty blue.
"Oh God! See you later, I had to be home hours ago." Florence left regretfully, flying out of the garden. She hurried home, her panic grew as the sun set further. Florence gritted her teeth and walked up her garden path, anticipating the inevitable lecture from her father. The grass was soft under Florence's bare feet. She gently pushed the front door open, hoping to slip upstairs unnoticed.
She stepped over the front door rug. Her shoes fell from her hand. They landed by her feet, along with her jaw.
"Was auf der Erde?!" Sitting in her cramped kitchen was a family, staring at her, amused.
"Bonsoir, Florence. Do you remember us?"
*
"So, how long will you be here for?" Florence asked her cousin Lisette in her faulty French, rusty after so many years of just German. Florence had spent the past hour listening to her family's story, the past eleven years relived in words. Florence hadn't seen these people since she was four years old, it was certainly a shock for her to find them all in her house. Their horror was sitting on her front door step and she didn't like it. The stories of refugees had been a distant worry, a thought in the back of her mind, until then.
*
It's hard to ignore distress when it comes to sit on your lap.
*
Things were changing. Florence now realised. Florence now cared.
They told her about their seemingly never ending train ride, their treacherous trip on foot and the odd lorry ride to her house. They had already eaten the contents of the pantry and had run two whole tubs of water for bathing in. Florence was to share her room with her twelve year old cousin, Lisette. The last time Florence had seen her, she was only a baby. This girl was a complete stranger to her.
She was friendly enough, hiding behind her sheet of blonde hair at first. Florence was reminded of herself by Lisette, shy and timid, at first, but observant and curious. Lisette and Florence both took an instant liking to one another.
"I don't really know, possibly several weeks, more maybe." When Lisette met Florence that day, she saw a possibility of fitting in. Florence didn't speak to her like a child, as other older girls did. She didn't look upon her pityingly, she looked upon her with respect. She was also very pretty. Her soft, strawberry blond hair framed her beaming face. Her eyes twinkled with her carefree smile. Lisette instantly
looked up to Florence, she could sense her strength of character, something she sometimes wished she had more of.
Over the following month or so, while Lisette's family found a house, Florence and Lisette grew to love one another like sisters. They quickly got to know the story of one another's life as it had been so far and got on like they had been together for years. They had silly squabbles, ending in outbursts of laughter. They confided things in one other that they daren't tell anyone else. They talked late into the night together, giggling and jumping around the room. This was the first time either of them had had someone who would listen to them. Really listen. Florence loved Ben and his friendship compared to no one else's, but his tendency to rebel and his lack of 'girly' knowledge set a tiny but significant barrier between their understandings of each other.
This new sisterhood that Florence and Lisette formed was sacred to them. They were together all the time whilst in the Mele household, but once outside, they went their separate ways.
Their nights were for sharing.
Their days were for adventure.
Factis non verbis
12th August 1938
*
Today Germany moved.
Today the world stopped.
Today life went on.
*
There were three, free and blissful days left before Florence returned to school. She couldn't imagine what it would be like without Ben. Hell, most likely. But for that time being, she decided, it was best to just live in the moment and not think about it.
A few days before, Florence had introduced Ben to her 'new' family. Complicated explanations were made and many hands had been shaken.
After a lengthy lecture from Salomon about suffering and Nazis and every other political thought he possessed, Florence left with Ben and Lisette for the forest. They ate apples from Herr Pawlitzki’s garden and strolled around the woods, shaded by the leafy canopy above. Ben took an instant liking to Lisette. She sometimes even reminded him of a younger Florence. She had accepted him straight away and that was something Ben had only experienced once or twice before. He trusted her already and latched onto her like a sister.