Page 57 of Winter's End
Evi put a foot on the ground to steady her bicycle and held one hand up as she reached under her coat for her papers. She saw Mila’s mouth tighten as she reached into her bag.
The soldiers took their time examining their identification papers, looking up, looking down, peering from one to the other, a running commentary between them in rapid German. Something in their tone put Evi in mind of the German who had tried to rape her.
One of the men stepped forward. “Where are you going?” he asked in passable Dutch.
“To the Dans Hal,” Mila said calmly. “It is time for us to begin the new decor. Dutch Carnival begins soon.”
Another exchange between the soldiers, both looking faintly amused as they circled slowly, examining the two of them from every angle.
Evi held her tongue, her anxiety rising, but Mila’s expression turned from annoyance to amusement. To Evi’s surprise, Mila inclined her head in the flirtatious manner she had worked so hard to teach Evi. She said a few words in German that Evi could not decipher, and the young soldiers looked up in unison.
Muttering something, they handed back their papers and retreated.
“Danke,”said Mila grandly, tucking her papers into her shoulder bag, already beginning to pedal off.
Evi followed, pedaling fast to catch up.
“What did you tell them?” She asked when she reached her.
“Nothing of consequence,” Mila said, looking straight ahead. “I suggested I could report them to a high-ranking officer who is a personal friend, and they suddenly lost interest in the pair of us.”
ZOE
Zoe sat cross-legged on the floor, willing her breath to slow. The silence in the room was palpable. She was angry, bitter, alarmed, and tearful, surveying the ruins the Germans had left behind.
Were they apt to return?Lieve god, where was Daan? What had put him in the Nazis’ crosshairs?
She thought of Jozef Haan, the farmer who had not surfaced since the night of the train blast. Could he have betrayed Daan to save himself? Was it something in the bag that was lost to her at the road block?
Hot tears sprang to her eyes. She brushed them away and looked at the mess around her.
She was getting to her feet, slowly, cautiously, when the ring of the telephone pierced the silence. She stepped over a pile of books, reluctant at first to answer, then struggled to muster her most professional voice. “Mulder petkliniek. May I help you?”
The tears spilled over when she heard Pieter’s voice.Help was on the way, he told her.The Resistance, the entire nation, owed her a debt of gratitude….
Zoe mopped tears with the hem of her skirt.
A moment later, she took a shuddering breath and tried to focus on the task at hand. She was gathering papers, sorting themt into piles that made sense, when she heard women’s voices at the back door.
“Zoe,lieve god,” Evi rushed into the room the moment it was unlocked. “They did not hurt you?”
Mila Brouwer, right behind her, opening her arms and folded Zoe into them.
Zoe let herself go weak. She allowed herself a moment to be rocked and sheltered. She was too spent to protest.
Evi joined them in a three-way hug, and they swayed, the three of them, in silence.
MILA
It was past four when they stopped to rest and survey the what they had managed to accomplish. There were still piles of paperwork for Zoe to sort and return to the files, but the reception area was cleared, the furniture righted, the books mostly back on their shelves.
Mila stretched, arching her back. “Een fluitje van een cent!”she announced grandly. A piece of cake!
Zoe and Evi, sprawled, exhausted, on waiting room chairs, smiling wanly at her attempt at humor.
“If you have a piece of cake,” she implored, “please pass it over! I am starving!”
Zoe sighed, “I do not know how to thank you both. Imagine if Daan were to come back to such a shambles…”
