by Lorna Lee
When all was quiet, Meri took Jeannine’s hand and they ran to Annabelle. She was still lying crumpled where she fell, trembling and sobbing.
“Tante Anna.” Jeannine spoke first. “We’re here. It’s all right. Oncle Simon will be back. He will.” The girl didn’t dare touch the woman, who looked like a bird with a broken wing, but Meri rubbed her back, then her head and face.
“Get up, dear. Come inside. Curfew is almost here and I must leave. I’ll help get you inside before I go.” Meri wanted to be more comforting, but she also had to protect herself…for Jeannine’s sake. Meri scooped Annabelle up. The woman winced when she had to move her shoulder. Her legs were weak from shock, Meri surmised. She got Annabelle to her sofa and asked Jeannine to go to the kitchen to get a glass of water for Annabelle.
Meri looked at Annabelle’s shoulder. “I’m no doctor, but it doesn’t look broken to me—only seriously bruised. Maybe sprained. You should put ice on your shoulder. Do you have ice?”
Annabelle nodded.
“Listen to me, Annabelle. Simon will be fine. You must believe he will come back. You have to take care of yourself now. Simon would want you to take care of yourself and Jeannine.”
Annabelle nodded. She seemed capable of nothing more.
“I have to go; otherwise I might get carted away for breaking the curfew.” Meri regretted her bluntness. She had to hurry, the time for tact had long since passed. “I have to leave Jeannine with you. Can you care for her?”
Annabelle snapped out of her stupor. “Mon Dieu! Jeannine isn’t safe here!”
“What? Why not?
“We’re Jewish. So is she. Simon said he saw something in her…something…Jewish. They’ll see it, too. They’re looking for us. First the men, then women and children…” Tears started pouring from Annabelle’s already swollen eyes.
“Mon Dieu.” Meri’s flushed face turned pasty white. She exited swiftly, not saying another word to either Annabelle or Jeannine. She barely made it to the sidewalk before she vomited.
Chapter 15: Sisters of Charity
“Truly to tell lies is not honorable
but when the truth entails tremendous ruin
to speak dishonorably is pardonable.”
Sophocles
“Meri, may I please see you in my study?” Monsieur rarely spoke to anyone in his household anymore. His presence in the kitchen doorway surprised Meri. His eyes had lost their boyish sparkle and he stood with shoulders slightly stooped—burdened shoulders.
“Oui, Monsieur.” Meri wiped her hands on her apron before she untied it and lifted it over her head. She carefully placed the well-worn apron on a hook in the pantry—her hook—then she finger-combed a few stray curls from her forehead back in place. “Sorry, Monsieur. I’m ready.”
He turned.
She followed.
He waited at his study door until Meri was inside and closed it, making sure no one saw either of them enter. Gesturing for Meri to sit on the sofa, he let out a large sigh and sat beside her.
Meri sat stiffly, hands tightly folded in her lap lest she start twisting her hem. She could not stop feeling anxious since the incident she had witnessed with Simon. Knowing that at least the Barouches knew Jeannine had Jewish blood in her made Meri worry constantly about whether or not the Germans or the French Nazi sympathizers had gone back to empty the rest of the Barouche household. She would have to wait another two weeks to find out if Jeannine was still safe.
“Relax, Meri. In here with me, you are in friendly territory.” He laughed half-heartedly as he shook his head. “If I didn’t have this room, there wouldn’t be a place in this big house I could relax in!”
Meri raised one eyebrow. Why is the head of the household bringing me here and revealing these private feelings to me?
“I’m sorry, Meri. You’re confused. I have something to tell you involving Jeannine—
“Jeannine? I don’t understand!” Meri twisted her uniform’s hem into a knot so tight her fingers hurt. He’s going to tell me she’s been taken by the Germans…. Meri felt a lump form both in the pit of her stomach and at the base of her throat. Panic splashed across her face, making it flushed and blotchy.
“Calm down, Meri.” He put his large hand on her knee, stopping her from worrying the material on her uniform. “Jeannine is safe…for now.” Both of them let out breathes they were holding. Meri noticed his smooth skin, especially in comparison to her cracked, red, rough hands. Monsieur continued. “Annabelle, however, is frightened for Jeannine’s safety and her own security, as well.”
He paused to take in a breath.
Meri’s questions poured out, filling the momentary silence. “How do you know these things? Why is she frightened? Jeannine is Catholic. Why are good Catholics in danger?”
“Slow down, Meri.” Monsieur put an arm around her shoulder. Rather than feeling awkward or frightened by his show of intimacy, his closeness comforted her. How long has it been since a man has held me—a good man? “After Simon’s arrest, Annabelle wrote to me. I went to see her right away. I often stopped in to see both her and Jeannine. Your little girl is beautiful.” He smiled a genuine, if not slightly sad, smile. “Of course, Annabelle was distraught—her shoulder, the trauma of seeing Simon dragged away by those evil Nazis and our own French police.”
“I witnessed the whole thing. Jeannine, too.”
“Annabelle told me. All she does is cry. She’s convinced they will be back for her…for her and for…well, anyone in a Jewish house.”
Words refused to come out of Meri’s opened mouth. She put her hands over her face instead.
“I was speechless as well. Annabelle wants to move. She believes Simon is never coming back. She told me she heard one of the French police say Simon and the others will die one way or another. When she leaves, Meri, she’s not taking Jeannine. She told me Jeannine is a Jew too.”
“Annabelle said what? She must be crazy with pain or fear or grief! Jeannine is Catholic like me.” Meri’s voice pitched louder and higher than she intended.
“Meri, keep your voice down. Others must not know we are speaking.”
Meri nodded. Her knees began shaking.
“It does not matter what Annabelle thinks, Jeannine must find a new home. This is why I need to speak with you.”
“Oui, Monsieur.” Meri’s eyes darted around Monsieur’s office, trying to comprehend the magnitude of the situation.
He paused. He’s choosing his words carefully. This can’t be good.
“With Paris occupied, options for childcare are extremely limited. Everyone is being scrutinized. I can’t help you this time.” He removed his hands from her to rub his face.
Meri’s face brightened momentarily with an idea. “Could she stay here? She’s seven now. She will work to earn her keep. Perhaps she would even make a good playmate for Karla.”
Shaking his head, he said, “Greta and Ilsa will never allow it.”
Meri hung her head. “Oui.” Tears welled in Meri’s eyes. They will see the Jew in her. What will I do with her now? Even if travel restrictions allowed, I won’t go back to Finland. There must be a solution. Siri will… Meri’s thought’s ended abruptly when she heard, no felt, something strange. Everything around her was…shuddering. She turned to the man who had one arm wrapped around her shoulder and realized his chin had dropped to his chest as he openly wept. Why is Monsieur crying…in front of me?
Meri reached over across his broad chest and put her hand on his shoulder. In his sorrow, he fully embraced her. He tucked his face in her neck and cried for several minutes, or so it seemed to Meri. She forgot about her child care troubles and began worrying about her potential employment troubles. Mostly, her concern focused on her employer’s state of mind. Is he going crazy? This is so out of character for my normally composed, even-tempered Monsieur who always has a solution to every problem, except when his wife is involved. Meri rubbed his back. For now, he was no different from Kurt, Karla, or Jeannine. He needs com
forting and he needs it from me.
After his sobbing subsided, Meri whispered into his ear. “What worries you so much? Perhaps talking about it will help?”
He straightened himself to his former seated position beside her, dropped his embrace, and held both of her hands in his, and then he emptied his heavy heart to her.
§
German soldiers patrolled the streets and the occupiers severely restricted travel between countries, throughout France, and even within Paris. Religious affiliation did not matter. Most people were frightened to go out in public. Every person had to have their papers showing proof of their identity and citizenship when they had to be on the streets to run necessary errands. Meri’s papers showed Finnish citizenship. Meri did not know if the Germans would arrest her or not.
Since Monsieur can’t help me, I’ll go to see Siri instead Jeannine on my next day off. She’s helped me before. Jeannine is safe for now with Annabelle…I think. The Germans are only looking for Jewish men and boys. Monsieur assured me.
Meri contacted Siri via letter and set up a time to meet at Siri’s apartment on her next precious day off. Even though Meri knew Annabelle was terrified the Nazis would come back any day to take both her and Jeannine, Meri had to take the chance to visit Siri rather than her daughter. I have to find a safe place for Jeannine and Siri may know of one. Walking over an hour to Siri’s apartment on Parisian streets now claimed by Germans, Meri faced intense scrutiny by both the occupiers and their French police cronies. Siri is my only hope for keeping Jeannine away from the Germans. I have to risk seeing her. I want to see her, too. I miss my friend so much.
Since Meri’s intimate encounter with Monsieur, she felt freer to ask him for favors. “Please tell Annabelle and Jeannine I won’t be visiting until next month. It’s easier for you to travel freely on the streets. Being Herr Freels’ brother-in-law has its advantages, after all. I’m going to see Siri. We’ll figure out a way to get Jeannine away from Annabelle and somewhere safe. Making other arrangements, whatever they will be, should make Annabelle happy…and Jeannine very sad.”
“Oui. Our girl has grown quite found of her Tante. What do you have in mind?” Monsieur’s eyes are Papa’s eyes, worried about his little Kulta.
“I wish I knew. I hope Siri knows.” Meri’s voice was as flat as her worn shoes.
Monsieur stood and started to pace.
“Monsieur, Siri has always helped me in the past. I trust her. You said you can’t help me. All I have in the world are you and Siri. Jeannine, too.” The one who complicated my life from the start, she added silently.
He pulled her up and gave her a hug. Is this the embrace of a father or a suitor? Meri could not tell. “Be sure to avoid the busiest streets. The soldiers and police enjoy strutting in their uniforms where they can be most visible.” He pulled away, although still holding her by the arms. “I think we have reached a point in our relationship when you can call me Michel…when we are alone!”
Suitor, I think…
“I wouldn’t feel right about—”
“I insist. ‘Monsieur’ is too formal for the closeness I feel for you, Meri. Plus, think of all we have been through.” He rubbed his eyes in a mock crying motion.
Meri smiled. “Michel.”
“If you are stopped, emphasize your work for me and for Herr Freels’ children.” He reached into a desk drawer. “Ah, here it is. Carry this with you at all times. The Germans will not bother you when you show this to them.”
Meri nodded and smiled.
“Also, I will bring home a ladies garment tomorrow. Take it with you. Say that you work for me and you are delivering it to a German customer. I have many so I can give you a name they will be unlikely to check. Being on an errand, even on a weekend, will make your passage less suspicious.”
“That’s a wonderful suggestion, Michel. Merci. I have always wanted to work in your design house. Now I am…even if only to pretend!”
Meri did not know how her innocent comment planted an idea in Monsieur Dorval’s mind that would soon surprise and delight her.
§
Meri spent about three hours with Siri: two friends both happy—and relieved—to see each other. They reminisced for almost an hour about happier times, trying to remember how to be two women enjoying an afternoon in Paris together. When talk turned to their jobs, reality rained down upon them like a cold, early April storm.
Siri began. “Things aren’t good at the Embassy, Meri.” The women were seated face to face in Siri’s small living room—Meri perched on the edge of a lumpy sofa and Siri sitting on the edge of an equally uncomfortable arm chair. They held hands. The coffee Siri made was getting cool on the end table beside the sofa.
Meri nodded, more in encouragement to continue rather than in agreement.
“They told us about the German invasion two or three days before it happened. They said we could go back to Finland but only if we left immediately. How could I leave without even a moment’s notice? Where would I go? What jobs are in Finland for me? Finland has its own war with the Soviets! None of my employers went to Finland, so I here I am.” She shrugged. “I heard some talk about embassies not being attacked in a war…any war. No Germans have come to our doors yet. Perhaps I’ll move into the embassy!” Siri feigned a silly smile.
“You’re lucky, Siri. I’ve seen what they can do when they come.” Meri’s eyes darkened.
“Is this about Madame Fussy Bossy, her sister and her children? Who else?” Before the war, Meri discreetly posted letters to Siri to keep her abreast of Jeannine and as many details as she dared reveal about her life as a servant and nanny in the Dorval residence during the German occupation.
“Where to begin?” Meri removed her hands from Siri’s and reached for her coffee. Siri did the same and wrinkled her nose at the tepid liquid. She got up, collected the cups, and whisked the tray into the kitchen.
“I’ll just be a few moments. I’m making more coffee and some sandwiches. I’m getting hungry. Are you?”
“Oui. Food sounds good.” Meri took the time to study Siri’s apartment. Her friend always appeared in public so elegant and prosperous. I thought the Finnish Embassy paid its clerical staff handsomely. Siri apartment told a different story. The sparse furnishings were old and in poor repair. The walls needed a fresh coat of paint, which wouldn’t be much work because the apartment was quite tiny. Meri smiled briefly. I never noticed how shabby her apartment looks. Was it always this way? Siri looks like a successful independent woman and lives like a poor one. I live in a grand home and look like a pauper.
“Here we are. Let’s eat and drink while the coffee is hot and the sandwiches are fresh. We can talk and eat at the same time. We used to do it all the time at our weekly breakfasts, remember?”
Meri reached for bread with cheese and said, as she took a hearty bite, “Indeed, we can!”
The women laughed, almost choking on their food. “Meri, I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I laughed.” Siri wiped tears from her eyes and crumbs of cheese and bread from her lap.
“Oui, Siri. My life is very bleak, as well. Jeannine and I used to laugh a little. She’s now my biggest worry.”
“Tell me about Jeannine.”
Meri nodded as she took a sip of hot coffee. “The Germans occupy my life in many ways and not in good ways, Siri. Annabelle—the woman who has been caring for Jeannine—can no longer take her. They arrested her Jewish husband and now she fears she and Jeannine will be next. I don’t think Annabelle is Jewish, but maybe she is. To the Nazis, it doesn’t matter. Being married to a Jew, these days, is enough to be guilty in the eyes of the Nazis. Simon told Annabelle he saw something Jewish in Jeannine so maybe the German’s will too. She wants Jeannine gone so she can move somewhere safe. I wonder if there’s a safe place in all of Europe for anyone targeted by the Gestapo and our own police force.”
“He said Jeannine appears Jewish? Do Jews have a certain look?” Siri sat back in her lumpy chair, her e
yes wide. Her mouth wider.
Meri stared at her friend; her lack of response being the only answer she could give.
“I see those awful posters the Germans put up about the Jews. Jeannine doesn’t look like them with their big noses and bulging eyes. Maybe the curly, brown hair, though…”
“Siri! Stop! No one is like those monsters in those terrible pictures. Amiel and Josef weren’t monsters. Simon wasn’t either. I can’t tell who’s a Jew and who’s not. How can anyone tell? My problem is Annabelle thinks they can, and she refuses to let Jeannine stay with her. So I came to you. Can you help me figure out what to do with Jeannine…and fast?”
Siri shook her head. “Things at the Embassy aren’t the same. We’re all trying to stay out of sight and be there for the few Finns we might be able to help. The only ones getting through our doors are the Finns with money. What about Monsieur Dorval? He helped you before. Did you ask him?”
Meri sighed. “He’s out of solutions for me. Those Finns with money get help. What about the rest of us?”
Siri looked down—a little girl, ashamed of a bad deed.
“I’m not blaming you, Siri. Life is so unfair.”
“I don’t understand. The Dorvals have money.”
“Michel has money, but he’s not at liberty to use it for a servant and her illegitimate child. I know he would if he could.”
“Michel?” Siri perked up.
“That’s another story I’ll tell you after we solve my problem with Jeannine.”
“Well, then. Let’s solve this problem tout de suite!”
Siri got creative when motivated. “Jeannine is seven and should be enrolled in school, right? There are two kinds of schools in Paris: public and parochial.”
Meri nodded and kept silent.
Siri continued. “Why don’t you put Jeannine in a parochial school affiliated with a Catholic church? These places act as boarding schools and orphanages—even though many of the children in them aren’t orphans.”
Meri stood up, grabbed her friend, and hugged Siri tightly. “Who would search for a half-Jewish child in a Catholic convent? The Germans aren’t that smart. Your plan is brilliant!”