Page 2 of The Pianist's Wife
‘I’m sorry, but the decision has been made.’
‘But why can I stay and they can’t?’ Amira asked. ‘What makes me any different from them? It’s not fair that they had to go home!’
Her teacher looked away, as if she couldn’t bear to meet Amira’s gaze. Tears filled Amira’s eyes and she quickly brushed at her cheeks when she felt the first of many begin to fall, not wanting to appear weak in front of anyone at school, least of all her teacher. But she’d just watched a Jewish girl from her class and a handful of others from different classes being lined up in the quad outside and sent home, no longer welcome at school.
‘Amira, you’re different because only your mother is Jewish. Your father is German, which means that you are allowed to stay, for now. But I don’t know for how much longer. You’ll just have to wait and see, like everyone else, but in the meantime be grateful that you’re still here.’
Amira blinked back at her, a shiver running through her body as she began to understand what was happening. She looked over her shoulder and saw some of her classmates whispering, their hands held up to cover their mouths, heads bent together. She doubted any of them had even known her mother was Jewish until she’d been singled out with the other mixed-race children that day. She’d gone from being a student just like them, to being the object of their ridicule.
‘So one day you might tell me that I can no longer attend school, too?’ she asked, horrified that she was in trouble for something she couldn’t help. ‘Even though I have the best grades in the class? How will I be a teacher one day if I cannot come to school?’
‘Please, Amira, there is nothing I can do about it. The rules are the rules,’ her teacher said. ‘We shall have to wait and see what orders we receive, but it seems, for now at least, that we can only have a certain number of Jewish students, and our principal has decided he would prefer those Jews to be only half-bloods.’
She was left standing there when her teacher turned and walked away, but Amira didn’t move. Not immediately. She’d just witnessed some of her classmates, some of the smartest children she knew, being sent home less than an hour earlier, supposedly never to return. And now she’d been told she wasn’t guaranteed an ongoing place at school anymore, either.
A hand fell over her shoulder and squeezed, and she turned to find Gisele standing there, her eyes wide.
‘What did she say?’ Gisele whispered, her long blonde plait falling over her shoulder.
‘That there are limits on the number of Jewish children allowed at schools and universities all over Germany now,’ Amira whispered back.
‘But what about you?’
‘It’s because my father isn’t Jewish. I don’t think anyone knows how they are going to treat us, because we’re half German. She just said I shall have to wait and see.’
Gisele nodded and tucked her arm firmly through Amira’s, turning them both around and steering her back to their desks. The other pupils all went silent as she walked past, most avoiding eye contact with her as if they were embarrassed and a few giving her sympathetic smiles. But it was a small group of boys who caught her attention, with one of them whispering something that made them all erupt into laughter.
‘I don’t understand what’s happening,’ Amira said as she and Gisele sat side by side, and their teacher took her place at the front of the classroom and reprimanded the students for making too much noise. The teacher didn’t go so far as to tell them off for their unkindness though.
Gisele’s face was tightly drawn in a way that Amira had never seen before, but she’d never in her entire life felt so grateful for her best friend. Without her, she would have been hopelessly alone.
As their teacher turned to write on the board, Gisele slipped her a piece of paper, which Amira tucked on to her lap and read, careful to be sure that no one was watching.
It won’t last for long. No one will allow this to continue. It’s madness.
Amira placed the note on her textbook and scribbled back.
What if it does though? What if I can’t come to school anymore? What will I do?
Gisele wrote straight away when Amira passed it to her.
Your papa wouldn’t allow it. He’ll be at school tomorrow morning demanding you stay here, along with all the other parents whose children were sent home. They won’t stand for it.
A shuffle of fear ran the length of Amira’s spine. She wasn’t so certain that would be the case; that Jewish parents would even be allowed on the school grounds anymore, let alone into the principal’s office. She’d heard her parents arguing late at night when they thought she was asleep; had seen the silent, almost pained way they looked at each other over the dinner table some evenings. Her mother was scared, and Amira had seen it reflected in her gaze – the way she held her a little tighter now whenever they hugged, the way she said goodbye to her each morning almost as if it could be their final parting. It was as if she’d known all this was coming, as if she’d been preparing for the worst. There weren’t many Jewish families in their community and no others that she knew of with only one Jewish parent, and her mother didn’t practise her faith, but until recently she’d always lit her candles on Friday evenings. She’d called it her little reminder of her childhood, a tradition her mother had held close to her heart. Now, they were packed away and never spoken of, and Amira knew how much that must hurt her mother.
Gisele passed her another note.
I don’t care what anyone says. I will fight for you because you’re my best friend. I willalways fight for you.
Gisele had only just turned thirteen, and she was one of the smallest girls in their class, but Amira had no doubt that her friend would do as she said. It was one of the reasons they were friends; because on her first day of school, as a nervous, shy five-year-old, Amira had been left in tears when an older boy had stolen her lunchand left her starving. Gisele had thrown a punch at the boy with surprising accuracy and come straight over to sit with her, halving her lunch with Amira, their legs swinging from the bench seat as they spent the rest of the recess eating and talking. They’d been best friends ever since, and no boys had ever bothered her again. Except for today in class.
But even Amira couldn’t have imagined what Gisele would do next, what wouldhappennext.
Every day for as long as Amira could remember, she’d walked home with Gisele. They always took the long way intentionally, dragging their feet so they could spend longer together, never running out of things to talk about, especially on sunny days. But after today, she wondered if they would ever be allowed to walk together again. If they did, it would have to be the fastest route possible, but she doubted Gisele’s parents would permit it. She’d been invited into their home many times during their friendship, but lately she’d noticed the way Gisele’s mother watched her and Amira no longer felt comfortable going inside.
‘There’s the little Jew girl,’ one of the boys from school called, the very same one who’d whispered in class about her. ‘Dirty little Jew girl,’ he said in a sing-song voice.
‘She’s only half Jew,’ one of the other boys said, looking down at his shoes and kicking his toes into the dirt.
