Since we got back, Papa sometimes gives me messages written on his blue notepaper to give to Felix. He knows he can trust me now. If there’s ever another message to be delivered to Miss Josephine Baker, I hope Papa will entrust that task to me too. Although, according to Felix, who seems to know an awful lot about these things, she’s been very unwell and is being looked after in a private clinic here in Casablanca. I hope she gets better soon. I’d like to see her again and ask her how the animals are getting on these days.
Josie’s Journal – Wednesday 22nd October, 1941
Two things have happened in the last 24 hours.
The first is that last night I was allowed to go to Nina’s house to celebrate the great feast of Eid al-Fitr. The thin sliver of the new crescent moon appeared in the sky just after sundown, which meant that Ramadan was over and the fasting was at an end. Nina has managed to do it for the whole month even if sometimes she’s had a bad headache and felt very tired. The stories of Jules Verne definitely helped, though, and we both agree that Phileas Fogg and Passepartout are our favourite characters. We’d like to travel the world by boat and train ourselves one day, and have all sorts of adventures like them.
Anyway, at Nina’s house all the lamps were lit and the rooms were full of members of her family. I said, ‘Eid Mubarak’ to them all, as Nina had taught me. Everyone was dressed in their best clothes – Kenza was wearing a beautiful kaftan embroidered with silver thread and Nina had on a very pretty new dress called an abaya. Both of them had their hands painted with henna patterns, which I admired very much, although I don’t think Maman would allow me to have mine done. I wish she would. It’s not really all that different from the way Annette paints her face with rouge and lipstick, after all.
We broke the final day’s fasting in the traditional way with a glass of milk and some dates, but that was just the beginning. Nina and I helped Kenza bring out one dish after another and set them on the low table in the middle of the room. Then everyone tucked in. We ate and ate until our bellies were filled with all the good things Kenza had cooked. First of all we ate bowls of hrbil, a sort of sweet and creamy porridge made with cracked wheat, and then m’semmen pancakes with honey and preserves. Next came the lamb dishes. The family had bought a lamb from the butcher and had given a proportion of it away to the poor so that they could have a feast too, which is another tradition at the end of Ramadan. There was a big platter of rather strange-looking bits of grilled meat and Nina told me these were chunks of the lamb’s liver and heart wrapped in fat from the animal’s stomach. I didn’t find the thought of that very tempting, but I politely ate a small morsel and said how delicious it was because I didn’t want to hurt Kenza’s feelings. What I did really love, though, was the special lamb tajine she’d made with figs and almonds in, and so I had two helpings of that. Once we’d cleared away the main course, Kenza brought out trays of beautiful sweets and cakes and, even though I thought I probably wouldn’t be able to manage another thing, I ate one of each kind: a pistachio and rosewater ghoriba; a gazelle horn pastry filled with almonds and cinnamon; a sweet and sticky slab of caramel studded with nuts and seeds; and a sugar-dusted ma’amoul stuffed with dates. By the time Papa came to fetch me home at the end of the feast, I was very full and very sleepy.
I slept deeply and woke late, my dreams of flying through the air with Nina and Felix in a hot air balloon having been disturbed by the sound of excited voices floating up the stairwell. I got out of bed and shoved my feet into my leather slippers, then went downstairs to see what was happening. And that’s when I discovered the second amazing thing.
Annette was shrieking with joy so shrilly that I had to put my hands over my ears. Maman seemed to be laughing and crying at the same time. And Papa was waving a sheaf of papers triumphantly above his head. When he caught sight of me, he tousled my hair and gave me a big kiss. ‘Guess what, ma puce? Our papers for America have finally come through!’
I had some very confusing feelings when I heard that. On the one hand it’s what we’ve been waiting for all these months and it means we can escape from the war and begin our new lives on the other side of the world. On the other hand, the thought of leaving behind Nina and Kenza and Felix and Miss Ellis and Mademoiselle Dubois has made me feel completely devastated.
I looked at Papa and Maman and Annette, who were all so happy, and I tried to make my expression as excited as theirs. But I felt a huge emptiness inside and tears sprung into my eyes. Luckily, I think Papa and Maman assumed they were tears of happiness as I didn’t want them to think I’m ungrateful for everything they’ve done for us. I couldn’t help but feel that the world was ending, though. And while I know there will be a new beginning, right now there’s more grief than gladness in my heart.