I imagine her, here in this very room, alone and scared.
And I wish more than anything that I could reach out across the years to put my arms around that frightened girl and comfort her in her pain.
Josie’s Journal – Tuesday 30th June, 1942
This is the very worst day of my life. Without Papa, how can we go on? Without Papa, I’m not sure that I want to go on. Every minute seems to last an hour as we watch and wait for him to be returned to us.
It is so hard to write these words, but I know he would tell me to put them down on paper so that they aren’t in my head, and then I might be able to sleep a bit tonight. I don’t think I will ever sleep again, though, not until he is home with us where he belongs.
On Sunday, Felix arrived at our door, having cycled over from the mellah. He was out of breath, gasping to get the words out, and Papa pulled him and his bike into the hall and closed the door behind him. Maman and Annette were in the drawing room, but I’d started to come down to see who was at the door, so I stayed on the stairs and listened.
‘Don’t come this afternoon. The meeting is cancelled. They’re arresting everyone,’ Felix said. Although I couldn’t see his face, it sounded as if he was sobbing.
Papa calmed him down a bit. ‘Take a breath, son. Are you all right? And your parents?’
‘Yes, we’re okay. But the Gestapo have made a move. There are police everywhere. They’ve taken hundreds away.’
‘The others . . . ?’ Papa didn’t mention any names, but I guessed he was referring to the people who were at those meetings he’d been going to.
‘Gone,’ said Felix. ‘I think one or two may have managed to hide, but they’re raiding houses, arresting Jews, anyone they suspect of being in the resistance.’
Papa hushed him then and said, ‘Do you want to stay here? We could hide you and your parents. Of course, nowhere is entirely safe but it would probably be better for you here than in the mellah.’
Felix refused. ‘No, Monsieur Duval. But thanks all the same. It would put your own family at even greater risk if we were here. The baker will shelter us.’
‘Stay a while. Get your breath back. At least wait here until the worst is over,’ Papa urged.
But Felix wouldn’t stay. ‘I need to get going. There are others I need to alert. And then I want to get back to be with my parents.’
‘Be careful,’ Papa said. And then he opened the door and Felix and his bike disappeared.
I ran down the stairs and put my arms around Papa as tightly as I could. He smoothed my hair with his hand and kissed the top of my head. ‘There, there, ma puce. Don’t worry, it will be all right. We’re safe here.’
I nodded, resisting the urge to tell him I’d just heard him say that nowhere was entirely safe. I wanted to believe him. I wanted it to be true. I didn’t want Maman and Annette to know what I knew. But it was very hard to try to be brave then and I felt terribly scared, knowing that the wolves and the sharks had begun closing in and that they were starting to snap up the little white mice.
We were sitting around the breakfast table this morning when the knock at the door came. There was nothing particularly out of the ordinary in that, although we were all a bit more jumpy than usual – it could have been someone begging for food or asking if we had any odd jobs that needed doing in return for a few francs – and Papa went downstairs to answer it. But then we heard the sound of a guttural accent, loudly demanding to know whether he was Guillaume Duval, asking to see his papers, and I knew something was wrong. Maman froze, her coffee cup halfway to her lips, and Annette put down the knife she’d been using to peel an apricot and her eyes grew very wide indeed. I jumped up from the table and went to the window, using the folded-back shutter to hide behind.
In the road below were two large black cars, painted with the emblem of the Nazis, and my blood froze in my veins. I could hear voices from the doorstep, Papa’s tone soothing and placatory against the perfunctory snapping of the officials.
Maman got up and came to peer out too, standing so close behind me that I could hear the shallow gasps of her breath. I thought perhaps the pounding in my ears was the sound of her heart beating like the wings of a trapped bird against glass, but then I realised it wasn’t her heart but mine. Instinctively, she put out an arm as if to shield me from what we could see, but I ducked out from under it and bolted for the stairs.
‘Josie, come back!’ Maman’s voice was high and thin with fear, but I ignored her. My mind was racing as I ran down the stairs, desperately trying to think of what I could say this time to help protect Papa. If ever camouflage was needed, now was the moment. But I couldn’t think of the right thing to do to save him.