“It’s red,” Mrs. Marangos said through her weeping.
Eva was stumped. “Was it round or square?”
“It was red and it was long.”
“Red and long,” Eva repeated, having no idea what the old woman was referring to.
“Yes.”
“Was it in your garden?”
“No. It was outside my house.”
“Outside your house and it was red and long,” Eva said once more, trying to think of something that was red, long, and stayed outside. She had no clue.
“My little red box is missing, and it’s so important I find it!”
Eva was completely baffled and could only kneel there, feeling lost. Mrs. Marangos glanced at her and began to wail again.
Eva needed to speak to Debbie; surely she would know about this, since she had a file somewhere. As if in answer to her thoughts, there was a soft rap on the door and Debbie entered quietly, sliding the correct file on Eva’s desk.
Going back to her desk, Eva tried to look through Mrs. Marangos’ file as discreetly as she could, searching for any reference to red boxes. She was not having any luck, and Mrs. Marangos was staring at her in clear disappointment.
“You’re not interested in helping me?” Mrs. Marangos said, wiping her face with a handkerchief.
Eva looked up guiltily, certain she appeared like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “I am, Mrs. Marangos,” she said. “I just need some more details.” She closed the file and smiled. “I’m going to go outside and get you something to drink, okay?”
“Yes, thank you, my child.”
Eva closed the door and scratched her head. She was trying to think of what this little red box could be as she walked up to the reception area. Lost in thought, she only looked up when she got there. Half the interpreters were there, doubled over, laughing out loud.
“Oh, gosh, Eva, you should have seen your face as you came out of your office!” Debbie exclaimed.
Eva glanced around at the grinning faces and realized she had been the victim of a prank. “I was set up, wasn’t I?” she asked, not quite believing she had been so handily fooled. She had not expected anything like this to occur. She felt like an idiot, but realized that the frustrating situation with Mrs. Marangos was actually quite funny. “You set me up!” she repeated.
“Yes!” Debbie burst out laughing.
Eva shook her head, although she joined in the hilarity. At last, she held up a hand to quiet her colleagues, remembering that Mrs. Marangos was sitting in her office. “Uh, I have Mrs. Marangos in my office, I need some water, and what is this little red box?”
The question got another round of chuckles from the assembled group before Debbie put a glass of water in her hand and explained, “It’s the mail box. The post office does that sometimes. Usually they leave it outside her house, but they must have moved it again. Mrs. Marangos is a little senile, so we try and help her when we can.”
Eva nodded. “Red, long box...I guess that’s my initiation here, right?”
Debbie grinned and nodded.
“I get it now. So what do I tell her?”
“Tell her that the little red box will be put back in a week or so, but there is another red box just up the street and she can put her letters in there.”
“All right,” Eva muttered in German as she walked away back into her office amidst the laughter of her coworkers.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“Little red boxes,” Eva muttered to herself, opening the door to the apartment. Her initiation into the Interpreter Division had been memorable, if only for the fact that she had thought she was going to go mad trying to figure out what Mrs. Marangos had been talking about. She smiled. “Well, it sure beats lifting boxes of biscuits,” she said. She was about to call out to Zoe when a black and white cat padded up to her and lay down at her feet.
“Oh!” Eva looked down at the cat lying on top of her feet. “Hello, Ourania.” She went down on her haunches and picked up the cat, who did not object but started to purr, making Eva smile.
“I have to paint that.”
Eva looked up and saw Zoe leaning against the bedroom doorframe, grinning. Zoe pushed away from the doorway and came up to Eva. “Well, hello.” She stood on her toes and kissed Eva’s lips.
Eva led Zoe into the lounge carrying Ourania in one hand, and her handbag under her arm. “I saw Mrs. Jenkins and she gave me a letter for you. The postman put it in the wrong mail box.”
Zoe took the letter and stared at it.
“Are you going to open it or just stare at it?” Eva teased.
“You open it.” Zoe gave the letter to Eva and leaned back against the sofa, trying and failing to adopt a casual attitude.
Eva shook her head. “No. It’s addressed to you.”
Zoe dropped the act, took the envelope, and tore it open. “Oh, Evy, you read it,” she said plaintively.
Eva smiled and took the letter from Zoe’s hand, realizing for the first time that Zoe’s hand was shaking. Leaving the letter aside for a moment, she put her arm around Zoe’s shoulders. “It’s going to be all right.”
“Evy?”
“Yes?”
“Read the letter. It’s driving me crazy!” Zoe sighed. She stood up and began to pace. Eva retrieved the letter and skimmed through it before she read it out loud. A broad smile lit up her face when she found what she wanted. Zoe had her back to her and missed seeing the proud look that Eva cast her way.
“All right, are you ready?” Eva asked Zoe, who merely waved at her to continue.
“Dear Miss Lambros, it is with great pleasure—” Eva did not get a chance to finish because Zoe started yelling and jumping up and down at the first words, which clearly meant she had passed the Art College examination. Zoe danced around the lounge and then threw herself into Eva’s arms, causing them to fall over onto the sofa with Zoe lying on top of Eva.
“I passed,” Zoe said in amazement. “I really passed.”
“I said you would.” Eva laughed.
“I’m going to Sydney Art College.” Zoe’s voice rose in her excitement.
“Yes, I heard.” Eva smiled at the look of absolute joy on Zoe’s face.
Zoe sighed contentedly. “This is a dream. This is my dream — no, this is our dream. I’m actually going to Art College.” She could not quite contain her excitement. Eva recognized the moment when it dawned on her that Elena was going to get her results. “Elena!” Zoe exclaimed. She quickly got off the couch and raced out of the front door, leaving it wide open in her haste.
Eva sat up and started to laugh. She was still laughing when Elena and Zoe both started to scream in delight. She could hear the excited babble of voices coming from the corridor. Both women came back into the apartment and danced around the lounge together while Eva watched, her own spirits high.
The excitement caused Mrs. Jenkins, who came to investigate the screaming, no doubt fearing a repeat of the violence that had resulted in Muller’s capture. The apartment was filled with laugher and a little mayhem. Eva sat back on the sofa, soaking up the atmosphere. After a very shaky start, what with having a difficult time of finding employment and then rampaging Nazis, 1948 was starting off on a very high note indeed — having her father with them, herself finding enjoyable work, and Zoe getting into Art College.
Chapter Forty
Eva smiled over her steaming cup of tea as Zoe came into the kitchen for a moment, then left, came back inside a moment later, and turned on her heel, leaving again. Zoe was in a tizzy, as Earl was fond of saying. Ever since Zoe had received the acceptance letter from Sydney Art College, she had been nervous, excited, and sometimes bordering on the slightly insane in anticipation. She had gone over the route that she and Elena would take to the college in minute detail. She had even traveled there and stood outside the gates just watching the students file inside, her expression wavering between determination, apprehension, and sheer joy.
It had been a nervous wait for th
em both, after Zoe found out her exam results, to see if she would also get the grant necessary to finance her attendance at the college. The letter guaranteeing the financing had arrived only a few days later, causing another round of celebrations, because Zoe and Elena had both been accepted into the college and both had received the grants to pay their tuition, which meant they could finally quit their jobs at Hatton’s By The Sea restaurant.
They had given their notice at the same time. Although their boss had yelled at them more times than he had smiled during the course of their employment, he had been clearly sad to see Elena and Zoe leave.
“Zoe, eat some breakfast,” Eva called out, knowing what Zoe’s response was going to be. She had made the same suggestion an hour previously.
Zoe came into the kitchen looking quite flustered. Her hair fell across her eyes as she turned to see the wall clock. “I can’t eat.”
“You’re going to be hungry.”
“Did you eat on your first day at university?” Zoe asked, sitting down to tie her shoelaces.
Eva’s smile broadened. “Yes, a big hearty breakfast that Isabella made.”
“Who is Isabella?”
“Our cook. She was this big Italian woman who I loved.”
“You had a cook?”
“Yes. She made the best omelets I have ever tasted.”
“Better than mine?” Zoe stopped fidgeting and looked over at her, focusing her full attention on Eva for the first time that morning.
“A touch better,” Eva replied honestly.
“Humph.” Zoe sniffed.
Eva laughed at Zoe’s reaction. She got up from the table and left the kitchen to answer the knock at the front door. Elena stood outside the apartment, wearing a harried expression on her face while she tried to juggle her notebooks and her bag.
“Morning, Elena.” Eva welcomed her. “Zoe is nearly ready.”
Zoe came out of the kitchen. “Morning, El.”
“Hi, Zoe. Aren’t you ready yet?”
“Nope. My ‘mother’ wants me to eat breakfast.”
“We don’t have time! We’re going to be late!” Elena urged.
“Okay, okay. The college isn’t going anywhere,” Zoe mumbled. She handed Eva the mug of tea she had brought out from the kitchen, picked up her notebooks and her bag from the coffee table, and rushed out the door with Elena on her heels.
Eva shook her head as she closed the front door behind them. “Ah, how quickly they grow up,” she said as Ourania wandered out of the bedroom.
The cat had spent the morning under the bed and out of Zoe’s reach. Ourania had apparently decided it was not safe to be near Zoe’s path, after Zoe had accidentally stepped on the cat’s luxurious tail. “‘Once more unto the breach,’” Eva said to the cat. She picked up her own handbag and prepared to head off to work.
***
Zoe felt more than a little nervous as they entered the Registration office. The waiting room was filled with students. She and Elena looked at each other and sighed. They took a seat and waited for their turn.
After what seemed like hours, Zoe and Elena finally found themselves in front of the registration clerk’s desk.
“Oh, no,” Elena groaned softly, nudging Zoe’s ribs with her elbow. “It’s her.”
“‘Her’ who?” Zoe asked as she looked around the room to see who Elena was talking about.
“You know...when we came to the college before. You irritated her, remember? The racist cow, I think you called her?”
“Oh. Oh! Oh no,” Zoe muttered.
“Yes?” the clerk asked, glancing at them disdainfully.
“I’m Zoe Lambros and this is my friend Elena Mannheim.”
“You’re here to register?”
“Yes.” Zoe handed over the letter, which outlined the courses she was taking.
The clerk frowned. “Do I know you?”
“Well, you do and you don’t,” Zoe replied, which only made the clerk’s frown deepen until it looked like someone had drawn the corners of her mouth down to her chin.
“Is that supposed to be funny?” the woman asked acerbically.
“No, ma’am.”
“You look familiar,” the clerk repeated. “I’m sure it will come to me, but then you’re Greek and all Greeks look the same to me.”
“We do?”
The clerk sighed. “Peasants,” she said, and looked up Zoe with pronounced annoyance. “All right. Here is the schedule and what you need to know.” She handed Zoe a bundle of papers and a book. “If you have any problems or questions, you will find a list of people in there that you can ask for help. Don’t ask me. It’s not my job.”
“Thanks,” Zoe said shortly, reining in her own annoyance. She waited with barely concealed impatience while Elena gave her name and received the same information, as well as the same attitude, from the clerk. It seemed the woman was not overly fond of Jews either. Having completed their registration, they walked out of the office and back into the sunlight.
“Same racist cow all right,” Zoe said under her breath, biting off each word. Elena shook her head and led her onto the grass.
Jacaranda trees provided a little shade against the hot sweltering sun. Elena sat cross-legged on the ground, munching on a sandwich she had brought from home. It was clear that the hours of waiting had made her hungry. Meanwhile, Zoe tried to figure out where their classes were going to be. She lay sprawled on the grass with a map of the college in front of her, tracing routes with a fingertip.
“Eva reckons I can’t read a map,” Zoe said, frowning in concentration.
“You can’t,” Elena’s muffled reply came as she took another bite from her sandwich.
“You are not a comedienne.”
“I can read maps though,” Elena replied with a smug grin.
“Be quiet,” Zoe grumbled good-naturedly as she went back to her perusal of the map. “Hey, you want to go to the beach later?”
Elena sat silent, ignoring Zoe until Zoe flashed her an annoyed look, and she finally replied, “Am I allowed to talk now?”
“Since when do you do what I ask? Do you want to go to the beach afterwards?”
“Sure. Can I bring Friedrich?”
“I don’t see why not. Earl said he had the whole week off, so we can go in his car. You bring Friedrich, Eva will be home by 5:30, and we can grab Father H—”
“Um, excuse me, are you Zoe Lambros?”
Zoe looked up at the owner of the voice and found herself staring at a pair of legs. She looked up further, squinting. The sun was behind the woman, and she could not see her face. “Yes, that’s me,” she replied.
“Oh, finally I found you! My name is Kiriakoula Evagenlopoulos, and I belong to the Hellas Club.” After introducing herself, Kiriakoula sat down next to Zoe on the grass, folding her legs beneath her in an elegant, lady-like manner.
“I would never have guessed that,” Zoe said. She got a nudge from Elena to remind her to watch her manners. “What’s the Hellas Club?”
“Yeah, I know my name does tend to give it away, doesn’t it? Well, it’s a club where all the Greek students get together and we help each other. Would you like to join us?”
“How did you find me?”
“There’s a list in the Registration Office of all new students and I looked for all the Greek names.”
“What do I have to do to get in?” Zoe asked. Kiriakoula had black eyes and the blackest hair Zoe had ever seen. Her skin was pale, which combined with her otherwise dark coloration made her look like a creature from a scary film. Zoe decided she was going to be tactful for once and was not going to let that impression slip out. “This is Elena,” she said, introducing her friend.
“Are you Greek?” Kiriakoula asked Elena, who shook her head.
“I’m German. Elena Mannheim, pleased to meet you.” Elena’s outstretched hand was ignored and Kiriakoula gave her an odd look.
“Oh,” was all she said before turning her attention back to Zoe. “We onl
y allow Greeks into our club.”
“Elena is an honorary Greek,” Zoe replied, giving Elena a grin.
“We don’t fraternize with the enemy...or Jews,” Kiriakoula replied, scowling her disapproval.
Zoe’s smile vanished and she regarded Kiriakoula with dislike. Zoe found it disturbing to meet this hostility directed at Elena, but she did not find it all that surprising. She had been this woman before she had met Eva—full of hatred and bitterness at someone who was not Greek and therefore had to be the enemy. “I don’t consider Elena the enemy,” she said. “She’s my best friend.”
“Well, she’s German,” Kiriakoula said as though that was sufficient reason for her prejudice.
“Yes, that’s quite obvious. And you think all Germans are the enemy?”
“With all my heart,” Kiriakoula responded in Greek and got up from the grass. “If you lie down with the enemy, you are not a real Greek,” she told Zoe, her disdain clear.
Zoe’s acceptance and understanding suddenly evaporated. It was replaced with anger at her words. “Go to hell,” she returned in Greek. “Bitch,” she quickly added, which only caused Kiriakoula to spit in her direction, narrowly missing her.
Zoe was furious. It was only Elena’s tackle that kept her on the ground and prevented her from taking a swing at Kiriakoula. She fell face down onto the grass while Elena sat on her and prevented her from getting up.
“No! Stay put,” Elena urged Zoe. The fracas was attracting attention and various students paused to watch.
“I’m going to twist her big ugly face into a pretzel. Racist bitch,” Zoe yelled, unable to move, since Elena had apparently decided she was going to sit on her until her anger had dissipated.
“What did she say to get you all ready to twist her into a pretzel? She’s bigger than you, and I think she would twist you into a pretzel.”
“Get off me, El,” Zoe ordered. Elena remained where she was, which only angered Zoe further.
“No. Not until you cool off.”
“I’ve cooled off,” Zoe replied, but her fury was still evident in her constricted tone.
Where Shadows Linger (Intertwined Souls Series Book 2) Page 31
