Anne Frank's Tales from the Secret Annex Read Online Free PDF

this is best way, Anne. This you can take from me. Of course, it is no matter, you do the way you want.’
    We go on peeling. I glance at Dussel out of the corner of my eye. Lost in thought, he shakes his head (over me, no doubt), but says no more.
    I keep on peeling. Then I look at Father, on the other side of me. To Father, peeling potatoes is not a chore, but precision work. When he reads, he has a deep wrinkle inthe back of his head. But when he’s preparing potatoes, beans or vegetables, he seems to be totally absorbed in his task. He puts on his potato-peeling face, and when it’s set in that particular way, it would be impossible for him to turn out anything less than a perfectly peeled potato.
    I keep on working. I glance up for a second, but that’s all the time I need. Mrs van D. is trying to attract Dussel’s attention. She starts by looking in his direction, but Dussel pretends not to notice. She winks, but Dussel goes on peeling. She laughs, but Dussel still doesn’t look up. Then Mother laughs too, but Dussel pays them no notice. Having failed to achieve her goal, Mrs van D. is obliged to change tactics. There’s a brief silence. Then she says, ‘Putti, * why don’t you put on an apron? Otherwise, I’ll have to spend all day tomorrow trying to get the spots out of your suit.’
    ‘I’m not getting it dirty.’
    Another brief silence. ‘Putti, why don’t you sit down?’
    ‘I’m fine this way. I like standing up!’
    Silence.
    ‘Putti, look out, du spritzt schon !’ †
    ‘I know, Mummy, but I’m being careful.’
    Mrs van D. casts about for another topic. ‘Tell me, Putti, why aren’t the British carrying out any bombing raids today?’
    ‘Because the weather’s bad, Kerli!’ ‡
    ‘But yesterday it was such nice weather and they weren’t flying then either.’
    ‘Let’s drop the subject.’
    ‘Why? Can’t a person talk about that or offer an opinion?’
    ‘No!’
    ‘Well, why in the world not?’
    ‘Oh, be quiet, Mammichen !’ *
    ‘Mr Frank always answers his wife.’ Mr van D. is trying to control himself. This remark always rubs him up the wrong way, but Mrs van D.’s not one to quit.
    ‘Oh, there’s never going to be an invasion!’ Mr van D. goes white, and when she notices it, Mrs van D. turns red, but she’s not about to be deterred. ‘The British aren’t doing a thing!’ The bomb bursts.
    ‘And now shut up, Donnerwetter noch mal !’ † Mother can barely stifle a laugh, and I stare straight ahead.
    Scenes like these are repeated almost daily, unless they’ve just had a terrible row. In that case, neither Mr nor Mrs van D. says a word.
    It’s time for me to get some more potatoes. I go up to the attic, where Peter is busy picking fleas from the cat. He looks up, the cat notices it, and whoosh…he’s gone. Out of the window and into the rain gutter.
    Peter swears; I laugh and slip out of the room.
     
    Friday, 6 August 1943
    * Putti is Mrs van Daan’s pet name for her husband.
    † ‘Now you’re splashing!’
    ‡ Kerli is Mr van Daan’s pet name for his wife.
    * ‘Mummy!’
    † ‘For crying out loud!’

Freedom in the Annexe
    F IVE-THIRTY : Bep’s arrival signals the beginning of our nightly freedom. Things get going right away. I go upstairs with Bep, who usually has her pudding before the rest of us. The moment she sits down, Mrs van D. begins stating her wishes. Her list usually starts with ‘Oh, by the way, Bep, something else I’d like…’ Bep winks at me. Mrs van D. doesn’t miss a chance to make her wishes known to whoever comes upstairs. It must be one of the reasons none of them likes to go up there.
    Five forty-five : Bep leaves. I go down two floors to have a look around: first to the kitchen, then to the private office and then to the coal store to open the cat door for Mouschi.
    After a long tour of inspection, I land up in Mr Kugler’s office.
    Mr van Daan is combing all the drawers and files for today’s mail; Peter picks up