noticed about him, the jaunty way that Simon
walked and the cap worn so carelessly as if in acceptance of his circumstances and
that others could never, quite, diminish. He was but twenty two, already gifted
as a jeweller, a handy person to have around; he would find his way, somehow.
That was something of the story he had
told her about himself, save that he was alone in the camp. His family had been
taken a few months before the authorities caught up with him. He’d been spared
the punishment cells. All links with his relations had been severed; not even a
postcard, thrown from the deportation trains, had found its way to him.
A
dysfunctional existence in Amsterdam, followed by a stay in the ghetto, had
seen to that.
Now,
Simon had spoken out in ways that were at odds with the mental image she kept
of the young man beside her. He knew of art, and some music, had talked of
books and there were entertaining stories to tell of a happy childhood. So much
of what he held dear she shared with him. Who could have ordained that it be
so, that she should meet him?
‘So
soon?’ she whispered. ‘Is that allowed…letting go? How can you know?’ Her lips
trembled as she thought through what Simon had so readily admitted of his
feelings. ‘We’ve only just met…and…here of all places.’
‘I
did so from the moment I first saw you and heard you sing. And then…I was able
to speak to you…I was allowed to do that. You made me very happy.’
‘I’m
not that important.’ She blushed on hearing his gentle teasing of her.
‘Yes,
you are…to me.’
Harriette
shook her head to disavow what had been said.
‘Please?
Please don’t say anymore? Where…where we are makes…makes those feelings seem so
unreal.’
‘Not
so…that’s not so!’ Simon tried to keep Harriette from releasing his hold even
though he felt her hands shake. ‘Stay? Do that for me…a moment longer?’
She
heard the plea in his voice and felt herself agreeing that they should be
together once more. Closing her eyes, Harriette summoned up the resolve to
continue as normally as circumstances allowed.
‘Walk
me to my hut…where we are, my family? Do that for me, then?’
‘Gladly
done…I’ll do that gladly!’ he laughed out like a child granted a special wish.
Harriette
was charmed. ‘But, Simon? Let go of my hand, please? People will talk…’
‘Let
them! Something normal is happening…’
‘Is
it, ‘ happening ?’
‘For
me it is, yes…yes, certainly!’
Harriette was
unable to offer a reply. It was far too early for her to admit that Simon had
captured her heart. It was enough to have him in her thoughts, a devoted
distraction from all that prevailed around them and that pre-occupied her. She
felt so tired from being caught beyond a known world, a modest home in an
apartment overlooking a tree-lined canal, a place of music and laughter, song
and evocative dance. There, dreamless nights soothed and restored a receptive
mind.
●
‘What
a charming young man,’ Judith told her. ‘I think he’s smitten…quite lost over
you.’
‘I
don’t know, mother,’ Harriette answered somewhat evasively.
She
wondered what would be made of her behaviour when she was in his company and
her family looked on.
‘Don’t
you… know ?’ Judith held her daughter’s
arm as they strolled along a path that separated the over-crowded barrack
blocks where they had been uncomfortably billeted. ‘Where’s your Pa got to?’
‘He’s
talking, to the orderlies…asking about some work…and, what is to happen to us
all.’
‘We’ll
know that next week, lievert…or in the weeks after.’
‘You
mean before another concert?’
‘Yes…that’s
how it goes here. Are you performing again?’
‘It
seems so, yes...tomorrow evening.’
That
she had been asked to sing meant that she had been spared a journey. The chosen
piece had found favour with recent audiences; she had learnt that the camp’s
commandant had even asked for it