Read Online Remember Me by Irene N. Watts - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Irene N. Watts
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cheeks.
“Like what? Why don’t you translate it?” Bridget asked.
Marianne read:
Hafenstrasse 26,
Düsseldorf, Deutschland
March 22, 1939
Dear Marianne,
Whenever one of your letters arrive, Opa, Oma, and I sit at the kitchen table, and I read it aloud several times. It’s wonderful to hear of your good progress.
(Bridget rolled her eyes.)
“Well, I can’t help it, you asked me to translate,” said Marianne.
Oma and I are still struggling with the
th
sound. We pretend that we are English ladies in a tea shop and practice saying “the tea, the cake,” but I don’t think we’re improving very much.
“That’s nothing to get angry about,” Bridget interrupted.
“Wait – you’ll see,” Marianne said.
Yesterday, when I came back from the consulate, I found a letter from England. Did you give someone my name, darling? A lady is looking for a cook / housekeeper. She asks if I am interested in the position.
Bridget jumped up and began singing and dancing “The Lambeth Walk,” the dance that was sweeping England. She put her hand through Marianne’s arm and they twirled round the kitchen.
Any time you’re Lambeth way
Any evening, any day
You’ll find us all doin’ the Lambeth walk.
Everything’s free and easy.
Do as you darn well pleasey.
“If we could ‘do as we darn well pleasey,’ everything’d be alright. Stop it, Bridget. I haven’t finished yet.”
“Sorry.” Bridget sat down and nibbled a biscuit.
Marianne continued:
I asked Opa’s friend to translate for me to make sure that I understood properly. The lady writes that her mother lives in a country village outside Farnham. She is elderly and needs someone to take charge of the household. Naturally I wrote back at once and told her this sounded a perfect situation for me and I would let her know as soon as possible. I’m trying to contact David to ask his advice.
Since you left, restrictions have been tightened. Jews may no longer use the town library, drive cars, own radios, telephones, or pets, and may shop for only one hour a day. How will Oma and Opa manage without me? If I come, Imay bring only one suitcase. I’d arrive with nothing, like a beggar. Yes, you did it too, but you are a child. How will I be able to send for Oma and Opa? It’s too big a decision to make overnight. Try to understand, darling, and be patient a little longer.
“Why must
I
be the one to understand?” said Marianne. “It’s about time someone remembered me. What’s she waiting for – a written invitation from the king?” Marianne stopped, too angry and upset to continue.
Bridget looked down at her plate. She crumbled her biscuit.
“I don’t believe she’s saying these things. She promised. And now she’s making all these excuses.” Marianne’s voice trembled.
Bridget looked up. “She can’t just pack a bag and hop on a train.”
“Why not? If she says yes, then she’ll get her visa, and come, and I’ll have a mother again, like everyone else.” Marianne was close to tears.
“Not everyone. There’s a girl in my class at school whose mother died last year,” said Bridget.
“Of natural causes, not on purpose. There’s going to be a war. Don’t you ever look at the news headlines? Even Uncle Geoffrey mumbles, ‘Bound to be a war.’ Everyone will be killed. My father in Prague, my mother and grandparents in Germany, my aunt and uncle and cousin in Holland. They’ll all die and I’ll be left alone.”
“You’re being melodramatic, Mary Anne. You know you’re exaggerating,” said Bridget.
“And you know
nothing
!” Marianne was almost shouting.
Dr. O’Malley came into the kitchen. “I’ve got ten minutes before my next patient. I was looking for your mother to make me a cup of tea.”
“Ma’s shopping. I’ll make it,” said Bridget.
“That’s my good girl,” said her father.
Marianne burst into tears.
It’s not fair – why don’t I have a father to make tea for?
“I’m sorry, I have to go,”
“Like what? Why don’t you translate it?” Bridget asked.
Marianne read:
Hafenstrasse 26,
Düsseldorf, Deutschland
March 22, 1939
Dear Marianne,
Whenever one of your letters arrive, Opa, Oma, and I sit at the kitchen table, and I read it aloud several times. It’s wonderful to hear of your good progress.
(Bridget rolled her eyes.)
“Well, I can’t help it, you asked me to translate,” said Marianne.
Oma and I are still struggling with the
th
sound. We pretend that we are English ladies in a tea shop and practice saying “the tea, the cake,” but I don’t think we’re improving very much.
“That’s nothing to get angry about,” Bridget interrupted.
“Wait – you’ll see,” Marianne said.
Yesterday, when I came back from the consulate, I found a letter from England. Did you give someone my name, darling? A lady is looking for a cook / housekeeper. She asks if I am interested in the position.
Bridget jumped up and began singing and dancing “The Lambeth Walk,” the dance that was sweeping England. She put her hand through Marianne’s arm and they twirled round the kitchen.
Any time you’re Lambeth way
Any evening, any day
You’ll find us all doin’ the Lambeth walk.
Everything’s free and easy.
Do as you darn well pleasey.
“If we could ‘do as we darn well pleasey,’ everything’d be alright. Stop it, Bridget. I haven’t finished yet.”
“Sorry.” Bridget sat down and nibbled a biscuit.
Marianne continued:
I asked Opa’s friend to translate for me to make sure that I understood properly. The lady writes that her mother lives in a country village outside Farnham. She is elderly and needs someone to take charge of the household. Naturally I wrote back at once and told her this sounded a perfect situation for me and I would let her know as soon as possible. I’m trying to contact David to ask his advice.
Since you left, restrictions have been tightened. Jews may no longer use the town library, drive cars, own radios, telephones, or pets, and may shop for only one hour a day. How will Oma and Opa manage without me? If I come, Imay bring only one suitcase. I’d arrive with nothing, like a beggar. Yes, you did it too, but you are a child. How will I be able to send for Oma and Opa? It’s too big a decision to make overnight. Try to understand, darling, and be patient a little longer.
“Why must
I
be the one to understand?” said Marianne. “It’s about time someone remembered me. What’s she waiting for – a written invitation from the king?” Marianne stopped, too angry and upset to continue.
Bridget looked down at her plate. She crumbled her biscuit.
“I don’t believe she’s saying these things. She promised. And now she’s making all these excuses.” Marianne’s voice trembled.
Bridget looked up. “She can’t just pack a bag and hop on a train.”
“Why not? If she says yes, then she’ll get her visa, and come, and I’ll have a mother again, like everyone else.” Marianne was close to tears.
“Not everyone. There’s a girl in my class at school whose mother died last year,” said Bridget.
“Of natural causes, not on purpose. There’s going to be a war. Don’t you ever look at the news headlines? Even Uncle Geoffrey mumbles, ‘Bound to be a war.’ Everyone will be killed. My father in Prague, my mother and grandparents in Germany, my aunt and uncle and cousin in Holland. They’ll all die and I’ll be left alone.”
“You’re being melodramatic, Mary Anne. You know you’re exaggerating,” said Bridget.
“And you know
nothing
!” Marianne was almost shouting.
Dr. O’Malley came into the kitchen. “I’ve got ten minutes before my next patient. I was looking for your mother to make me a cup of tea.”
“Ma’s shopping. I’ll make it,” said Bridget.
“That’s my good girl,” said her father.
Marianne burst into tears.
It’s not fair – why don’t I have a father to make tea for?
“I’m sorry, I have to go,”
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