Eva's Story Read Online Free PDF Page A

for it. It was Sunday with fewer people about but there was a market further along the lanes so we pretended we were going there.
    As soon as we arrived at the wooden door to the warehouse we entered quickly and climbed up two flights of stairs to our storeroom. Pappy unlocked the door and we went inside to unload our packages and tins.
    â€˜Put the tomatoes in this suitcase with the olive oil and rice,’ he instructed us efficiently, ‘and the sardines and chocolate over here.’
    â€˜Shall I put the condensed milk with the cocoa?’ I said. These were important issues to me and I wanted to help in any way I could.
    After we had packed the goods away we covered them with clothing and sprinkled mothballs on top. We were to return there many times. In the event our secret hoard did provide the nourishment to help people survive the terrible privations of the war – but not us.
    On the morning of 6 July a card arrived by post for Heinz. It gave instructions for him to report with a rucksack in three days’ time to the old theatre nearby. From there he was to be sent to a labour camp somewhere in Germany. Mutti was desperate but Heinz tried to comfort her.
    â€˜I’ll go, Mutti,’ he said bravely. ‘After all, my friends will be there too. Henk, Marcel and Margot had their cards too so we will all be together.’
    â€˜It will be slave labour,’ sobbed Mutti.
    â€˜They won’t harm me if I work hard,’ Heinz said, looking to Pappy for agreement.
    â€˜Young people will be useful to them,’ muttered Pappy, ‘but I think it is time we disappeared.’
    Within twenty-four hours all the appropriate arrangements had been finalized. Pappy and Heinz were to make their way to a separate hiding place. It had all been organized by the Dutch underground. Mutti and I were going to an address of a teacher, a Mrs Klompe, on the other side of Amsterdam Zuid.
    We spent the last few hours together as a family. When it was time to part I clung on to my tall, handsome father.
    â€˜Pappy, I don’t want to go without you,’ I cried. I could not bear the thought of being parted from him again.
    â€˜Evertje, be a grown-up girl now,’ he said. ‘You must look after Mutti for me.’
    My arms were around his neck and my toes were off the ground as he hugged me. And then, when he set me on my feet again, he held my shoulders and looked at me very seriously and whispered as if in prayer, ‘ God bless and keep you .’ Suddenly I felt a great strength flow into me and I stopped protesting and stood quietly.
    Heinz stood beside me with tears running down his face. He brushed them away with his hand, put his arms around me and kissed me goodbye.
    I remember walking away from the apartment with Mutti. This time we wore jackets without yellow stars and I held a magazine self-consciously over my chest to hide the fact that I was not wearing it. I looked around the square where the children used to gather. In the early morning light everything seemed deserted and forlorn. We had not been able to say goodbye to anyone and I was worried that I would be missed by my friends that afternoon because they would not know what had happened to me. Our friendly milkman was standing outside with his milk-float but he turned his head away, pretending not to have seen us as we hurried out into the square.
    Holding a small bag each, Mutti and I walked silently across Amsterdam to Mrs Klompe’s house. We knocked on the door which was opened by a well-groomed, middle-aged lady. We had never met her before but she said quite loudly for the benefit of any nosey neighbours, ‘How are you? It’s wonderful to see you again,’ and she stood smiling at us repeating, ‘Come in! Come in!’
    She was trying not to look conspiratorial but as we crossed the threshold she closed the door quickly behind us, and led us into her front room. Over a cup of tea she discussed