Eva smiled down at Mrs. Jenkins, hoping that Zoe knew she was expecting to be rescued from her bigotry. Zoe leaned against Eva, who began to relax a little in her reassuring presence.
“Oh, I’m so, so sorry Mrs. Jenkins, but we’ve been invited to Elena’s for dinner that night,” Zoe said. “Don’t you remember, Evy?”
“Uhh...”
Elena had been clearly enjoying the charade until her name was mentioned. “Oh, yes indeed, I invited them for that Saturday meal,” she said, flushing slightly.
“Oh, what a shame. Harry is going to go home on Sunday.” Mrs. Jenkins sighed. “Tsk, I knew I should have caught you earlier.”
“Maybe another time,” Eva said, hoping she would not be around when Mrs. Jenkins was looking for her.
“Oh, absolutely.” Mrs. Jenkins smiled. She said her farewells and went inside, where it was somewhat cooler.
“Oh boy.” Eva exhaled and glanced at Zoe, who was giggling. “A little warning next time.”
Zoe patted Eva’s behind as she started to walk back inside. Eva and Elena looked at each other for a moment before following her back up to the apartment.
Chapter Four
Eva and Zoe entered the apartment after parting with Elena. Zoe was still chuckling over Eva’s need for a rescue. Eva closed the door and sighed in relief as Zoe went to the kitchen to get them both some cold lemonade.
Eva was home. With the door closed, the outside world remained at the threshold. The apartment was a haven for them, where they could safely be themselves with no pretense and no lies.
Zoe had opened the French doors, which led out onto a long balcony with a distant view of Botany Bay, to allow a cool breeze through the apartment. A long yellow and bright green sofa occupied the center of the lounge. Eva had fallen in love with it when they had been on a furniture hunt. Although the color combination made Zoe wince, the sofa was a rare find and perfect for the room, and it was long enough to allow Eva to stretch out and get comfortable.
The sofa faced a fireplace where they sometimes cuddled in front of a roaring fire. Eva had been disappointed to find that winters in Sydney were very mild compared to the harsh German winters. To the right of the fireplace was a second-hand oak bookcase filled with books in English, Greek, Italian, and German. On the other side of the fireplace was a small table on which sat a gramophone. A small, tidy stack of records leaned against the leg of the table.
Two medium-sized bedrooms flanked the French doors. Each contained a double bed. Zoe’s room was furnished with little mementos, her easel, and pieces of her art in various stages of completion. Little dolls and artifacts that Zoe had collected during their journey from Larissa to Sydney were spread around on the chest of drawers, holding court amid the many other small artwork pieces that were stuck on the mirror. The collection included some of Zoe’s funny little sketches—pink elephants dancing on the Harbour Bridge, and goats riding a tram.
A bright pink bedspread covered the bed, and a doll sat at the center of the headboard. The room appeared to be a typical teenager’s bedroom, dominated by Zoe’s artistic personality.
Eva’s bedroom was more sedate. The double bed filled the center of the room, with a chest of drawers and a body-length mirror completing the arrangement. A desk and chair were positioned under a large window. Eva’s camera, tripod, and other photography equipment cluttered the desk, along with her journal and other books. A white flokati rug had been placed at the foot of the bed, with smaller matching rugs on either side. At the side of the bed was a table with a clock.
The whole apartment had polished wood flooring. To make the lounge appear warmer, smaller area rugs covered the floor.
They had been lucky when searching the stores for second-hand furniture. The Greek Orthodox Church had also helped them in acquiring other small items that they had needed. Eva was loath to accept charity, but her pride had to take a back seat to necessity. They were more fortunate than most refugees; they had a home when the majority of their fellow refugees still lived in government-run hostels.
Overall, it was a cozy apartment and a place that could support the pretense of them being sisters.
“I’ll get us some lemonade.” Zoe stuck her head out of the kitchen door and met Eva’s gaze.
“Thank you, love.” Eva got up from the sofa and stood before the balcony doors. Thunder boomed overhead and a streak of lightning flashed across the skyline of the city, briefly illuminating the lounge. The display was typical of summer in Sydney, where the heat of the day was cooled by a weather change from the south so quickly that it was gone as fast as it had arrived.
Zoe came out from the kitchen with two glasses of lemonade. Eva took the offered glass and drank deeply. “Ah, now that is so good,” she said, smacking her lips for effect. Zoe giggled.
“Come here, Miss Zoe.” Eva took Zoe’s lemonade and set both glasses down on the small table beside the couch. She put her arms around Zoe, leaned down, and kissed her chastely
“Nice way to say thank you.” Zoe stroked Eva’s cheek and gazed lovingly at her. “We didn’t have a chance to talk today with my early morning start. You were sound asleep.”
“I wrote in my journal until the early hours and then drifted off to sleep.” They felt silent and Eva closed her eyes. Zoe ran her fingers through Eva’s dark hair and massaged her scalp lightly.
“Now, who was that man who brought you home in his car?”
Eva opened her eyes and smiled. “Are you jealous?”
“No.” Zoe shook her head. “If it was a redheaded woman driving you around, I would be, but he’s a boy.”
“And we don’t like boys,” Eva said with a giggle she shared with Zoe. “I got a job, love.” She smiled when Zoe’s face lit up. “Felt like I was searching for work forever.” She sighed.
“So did you get the photographer’s assistant job?”
“No.” Eva shook her head, still saddened by the disappointment. It was the job she had wanted most and one that they both had thought would be impossible for her not to get. She had collected some of the photographs she had taken and put them in a nice portfolio to show her prospective boss. Unfortunately, her efforts had been wasted. “I opened my mouth, and he said he didn’t want a kraut working for him.”
“Boofhead,” Zoe said angrily.
“Boofhead?” Eva asked, bewildered by the new English expression. She pulled herself up to get a better look at Zoe’s expression.
“It means stupid,” Zoe explained.
“Who taught you that?”
“I heard Mr. Jenkins yelling at the paperboy this morning,” Zoe said. “I asked him what it meant.”
“Boofhead,” Eva sounded out the word. “I guess we’ve met a lot of boofheads since we’ve been here,” she added and sat upright.
“Too many,” Zoe agreed. She took Eva’s hand and kissed it. “That young man with the car was just your type of guy.”
“My type,” Eva tipped Zoe’s chin a little and looked into her green eyes, “has beautiful flame-colored hair.” She touched Zoe’s long red tresses and continued, “The most beautiful green eyes, and is a very beautiful artist.” She took Zoe’s face in her hands and pressed her lips to Zoe’s. “That’s my type,” Eva finished, wrapping her arms around Zoe again.
“So what were we talking about?” Zoe joked.
“You wanted to know who that gentleman was.”
“Right. I got a little distracted,” Zoe said. “So who is he?”
“He is part of my job story.”
“Ah, so tell me the story.”
“I have to tell you how I got there first,” Eva said. “I was sent to another job as a filing clerk, but it didn’t work out.”
“You opened your mouth?”
“No, he didn’t even see me. He got a call to say I was coming for an interview and he asked what my name was.”
“Let me guess—the job was taken?”
Eva nodded. “He didn’t even bother to tell the people at the Jo
b Network that the job wasn’t available so they could stop me from going to the interview.”
“Bastard.”
“Anyway, I had to go back to the agency office. That’s when they sent me to another interview for a secretary job.”
“You can type?” Zoe asked, looking a little surprised at this new information.
“No, not really.”
“So what happened?”
“Job was gone,” Eva replied sadly, tired of getting her hopes up only to have a promised employment opportunity snatched away on account of her nationality or because of other people’s carelessness.
“Did you have a chance to open your mouth?”
“Yes, but it wasn’t like that this time. The job really was taken,” Eva explained. “The manager, Mr. Peabody, came out of his office and asked me my name.”
“And?”
“And nothing. He just acknowledged I was German and then asked me if I wanted a job.”
“Wow, I like Mr. Peabody. What’s the job?”
Eva hesitated for a long moment. “Process worker,” she finally said. Of all the jobs she thought she would get, this was not it. It was a menial job and did not utilize her language skills. She was disappointed and knew Zoe would be as well.
“A what?”
“Process worker...I’ll be working in a factory.”
“Doing what?”
“Packing biscuits,” Eva replied.
Zoe’s expression turned into a scowl. “Packing biscuits? Won’t that be messy?”
Eva was a little confused, and then she realized what Zoe meant. “No, love, not the pastries you make.”
“I should hope not,” Zoe quipped. “So what are they?”
“Biscuits are what we have with tea...”
“You mean like kourambiethes? Those butter cookies you like so much?”
“Yes! That’s what they call them here. I’ll be working at the Johnson Brothers’ Biscuit Factory.”
“So that’s what they’re called,” Zoe mumbled. “They want you to pack cookies?”
“Yep.”
“Hmm, you’re not going to take it, right?”
Eva already knew what Zoe was going to say when she was told about the job. Factory work was not Eva’s ideal job, but when no one else was going to give her a chance, it was the only thing she could do.
“Yes, I am. That’s what the package is,” Eva explained, pointing to the brown paper bundle. “They even provide uniforms.” She did not wait for Zoe’s reaction but continued in a rush, “Zoe, no one else wants to give me a job.”
“That job isn’t for you,” Zoe said. “You’re smart. You’re educated, and you know four languages! Your back can’t handle packing boxes.”
“They won’t give me a chance, love, educated or not,” Eva reminded her. “As soon as I open my mouth, the job is gone. It doesn’t matter what skills I have or that I know four languages. I’m German and that’s all that matters.”
“That shouldn’t matter.” Zoe’s annoyance was building. She stood up and faced Eva. “A factory isn’t where you should be.”
“A kitchen isn’t where you should be,” Eva replied. “It’s the only job I could find.”
“Just give it some time,” Zoe pleaded. “I know you can get a better job, one that uses your skills.”
“I don’t have the time to wait,” Eva patiently explained. “I’ve also never had a job before, so I don’t have a lot of experience in that area. I just can’t wait around until someone who doesn’t have a prejudice against Germans gives me a job.”
“Why not?” Zoe asked. It was obvious that she was not ready to accept Eva’s answer.
Eva sighed. “I want you to stop working.”
“I want to work,” Zoe replied. “I told you that when I started. I have to work there because we can’t live on fresh air.”
“I don’t want you to work there. I want you to have what you have always wanted.”
“Bu-but—” Zoe was silenced by Eva’s fingers against her lips.
“God gave you a gift.” Eva took hold of Zoe’s hands. “Your hands need to be protected. They aren’t protected when you wash dishes.”
“Evy—”
“I want you to follow your dream,” Eva said as she kissed Zoe’s palm. “Don’t you understand that?”
“I am following my dream,” Zoe replied. “I’m with the woman that I love.”
Eva smiled. “And I love you, Zoe. That’s why I want you to go to Sydney College.”
“Don’t you think I know what I want?”
Eva sighed. “Yes, I do, but you didn’t dream of working in a kitchen when we were in Larissa,” she teased gently, pleased when Zoe smiled back at her. “You had another dream. Your dream was to be an artist. Do you remember what you told me back then?”
“I told you a lot of things,” Zoe replied. Reading the expression on her face, Eva understood that Zoe knew exactly what she was talking about.
“You said you wanted to go back to school, learn the things you missed out on, and that you wanted to travel,” Eva said, knowing full well that Zoe had not forgotten. “Dreams should never be buried.”
“Well,” Zoe said quietly, “I have travelled.”
“One out of three is unacceptable.”
“I can’t go back to school...”
“Yes, you can.” Eva grinned. She let go of Zoe and went to her bag. She retrieved a sheet of paper and brought it back to Zoe. “This is from the Sydney College of the Arts, part of Sydney University.”
Zoe held the flyer in her hand and read aloud. “‘Sydney College of the Arts invites immigrants to further their studies and to gain Australian...’” She stopped and showed the flyer to Eva.
“Qualifications,” Eva said in English, and then repeated the word in Greek.
“‘Qualifications,’” Zoe repeated and then continued. “‘Grants given to selected immigrants to be taught at Australia’s most prest...’”
“Prestigious — it means important,” Eva said with a smile.
“‘...prestigious college,’” Zoe finished reading.
“I want you to go to the Sydney College of the Arts.” Eva took the sheet from Zoe. “I want you to become the great artist that you have dreamed you could be. When we were at Athena’s Bluff, you told me that you wanted to see what was beyond Mount Ossa.” She glanced at the paper and then back up at Zoe. “This is what is beyond Mount Ossa.”
Zoe lowered her head. “We can’t afford it, Eva, even if I wanted to go.”
“Yes, we can,” Eva replied as she pointed to the sheet of paper. “It says they give grants.”
“What’s a grant?”
Eva smiled. Getting Zoe to the point where she could think about the possibility was the most difficult step. She thought the next part was going to be easy. “They pay for you to go.”
Zoe scowled. “They will pay me to go to college?”
“Yes. I spoke to one of the people giving out the leaflets, and he said that immigrants under the age of twenty-five can apply for a grant.”
“Applying for a grant doesn’t mean I’ll get it,” Zoe said, although Eva could tell her resistance was wavering.
“Anyone who applies and passes a test gets the grant,” Eva repeated what she had been told. “I asked the same question.”
“Hmm.” Zoe looked down at the leaflet in her hand. “I know you have read this thoroughly, but are you sure that this is for me?”
Eva nodded. “Absolutely. This is your dream. Jump off the cliff and enjoy the experience — the scary times and the exciting times.”
“You want me to leave the best job I’ve ever had to go to college?” Zoe grinned.
“I know it’s going to be a real hardship for you to stop washing dishes, but we all have to make sacrifices,” Eva joked, and then turned serious to address some of the real issues that she knew were bothering Zoe. “Love, I know that this is going to be scary for you, because you don’t know the language so well and you
feel out of place.”
”Among other things,” Zoe mumbled. “I never finished the eighth grade, Evy.”
“That’s not because you weren’t smart,” Eva replied. Zoe had a quick, intelligent mind and, had not the war intervened, Eva knew she would have achieved anything she set her mind to. Eva was certain of that.
“Do you think I’m smart?” Zoe asked hesitantly, looking down at her hand, which was intertwined with Eva’s larger one.
Eva looked down at the flame-colored head for a moment before she gently tipped Zoe’s chin up and looked into her eyes. “You are an intelligent woman, Zoe. I’m not sure you understand that.”
“The people at the university finished high school.” Zoe gave voice to her insecurity.
“Does that make them smart?”
“Yes.”
“No.” Eva shook her head. “It makes them fortunate. The war didn’t come to Australia. It didn’t interrupt their schooling. The Germans didn’t invade their village or killed their family. That’s why the college is offering grants to immigrants.”
“I have to sit for a test. What if I fail?”
“Then you fail, but at least you will have given it everything you have,” Eva said, holding Zoe close. “But, my Zoe, you won’t fail. When you set your mind on something, you give it all you have.” She smiled. “It’s one of the things I love about you.”
“You have more faith in me than I do.”
“I know you will succeed and that one day your work will hang in the art galleries of the world.”
“But there’s going to be a test,” Zoe reminded her.
“I’ll help you study for it. I’m pretty good at mathematics and we will get a tutor for you for the English grammar part of the test.”
“Where are we going to get the money for this tutor?”
“I don’t know, but it will happen.”
“I hate mathematics.” Zoe winced. “Hated it at school.”
“Yes, but did you have a teacher like me?” Eva winked, making Zoe giggle.
Where Shadows Linger (Intertwined Souls Series Book 2) Page 5