Eva shook her head and patted him on the back. “I see Zoe has won you over.”
“Won me over? Eva, this is a classic motorcycle! Wait until I clean off the rust and repaint it. Zoe wanted it hot pink and black, but I’ve convinced her to restore it to its original color.”
“Thanks for that much, Father.” Eva shook her head and left him to tinker with the machine. She walked up the flight of stairs and entered their apartment to find the table had been set beautifully, with two candles on either side. “Zoe, I’m home!” she called.
“In here.” Zoe’s voice came from the bedroom. She came out wearing a black jacket, a white shirt, and black pants. The outfit made her look more mature than her nineteen years—it was the combination of the jacket with the pants and the severe color, since Zoe normally wore bright colors and rarely wore black.
Eva handed her the bouquet of flowers. “Thank you for today. You made it so special for me.” Eva tilted Zoe’s face up and kissed her.
Zoe smiled. “Do you like what I’m wearing?”
“You look beautiful.”
Zoe blushed pink at the heartfelt compliment. “Thank you for the flowers; they are beautiful.” She wrapped her arms around Eva’s neck and brought her down for another quick kiss.
“You didn’t have to get dressed up, love,” Eva said.
“I know. I wanted to.”
Eva looked down at Zoe and shook her head. “I’d better go and have a bath,” she said.
“Need any help?” Zoe volunteered a little too quickly.
“I would love the help, but I don’t think I could have a bath and be ready on time if you ‘helped’ me,” Eva said, playfully chucking Zoe under the chin.
“It was worth a shot,” Zoe muttered as Eva went into the bathroom.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Zoe swayed to the music in the apartment as she closed the door and went into the bedroom where Eva was finishing getting dressed. She sat on the bed and picked up Ourania, who was sitting on Eva’s discarded shirt. “Cat hair on everything,” she murmured and brushed Eva’s shirt with her free hand. Louder, she said, “Father H asked if you could go downstairs. He’s helping Mrs. Jenkins with something. It’s about an immigration letter he needs to send with you tomorrow.”
“Yes, he told me this morning,” Eva replied. “I won’t be much longer.”
Zoe admired Eva’s tall, lithe figure. She was wearing a beige shirt with black pants. Zoe’s admiration became more open, and Eva smiled.
“You like?”
“I love!” Zoe scampered off the bed and put her arms around Eva. “Mine,” she said.
After a quick kiss, they parted. Eva opened the door to leave, startling Elena, who stood there with her hand raised, about to knock. Eva grinned and moved aside to let her in before she left, waving goodbye to Zoe.
“Hi, El, what’s up?” Zoe asked.
“I got a letter from Friedrich and I’m confused.”
“Isn’t that supposed to be a good thing?”
“Um, yeah, I guess. I mean, I don’t know,” Elena stammered. Zoe took the offered letter and looked at both sides. The paper was completely blank.
“Unless Friedrich is playing at being a spy and writing in invisible ink, I can’t see anything,” Zoe said.
“Me either.”
“Do you think he put the wrong piece of paper in the envelope?”
Elena nodded. “Well, he said he was going to send me a letter. I’m not sure if this is what he had in mind. I guess I’ll have to ask him.” She shrugged. “So are you ready for tonight?”
“Well, yeah, sort of. How often do you have dinner with someone who wants to steal your wife?”
“I don’t think that would ever happen to me,” Elena quipped.
“Well, I hope I don’t make a complete ass of myself.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” Elena reassured her.
“And are you ready for tonight?” Zoe asked.
“Well, yeah, sort of,” Elena replied, mimicking Zoe. They both laughed.
***
Greta felt nervous, which was highly unusual. She did not know why she was nervous; after all, this was just Eva she was going to see. She knew Eva very well and there was no need for nervousness. She held the piece of paper with the address in her hand and looked up at the building, unimpressed with the area. She wondered what had possessed Major Muller to move into a middle class suburb. He had been a man of refined tastes, as she recalled, but perhaps the German defeat had altered his fortunes. It occurred to her that she had not asked Eva about her father. Well, she did have other more pressing matters on her mind.
She had paid the taxicab to stop further up the street so she could compose herself, checking her hair and makeup in her compact mirror and straightening her long white skirt. She knew that the strawberry-colored shirt she wore flattered her coloring. She looked forward to preening under Eva’s admiration. The taxi drove away, and she saw the driver staring at her in the rear view mirror.
“Probably a Jew,” she muttered in German, trying to recall if his facial features had reflected any sign of that degenerate heritage. Dismissing the thought, she fingered her pendant — set with two diamonds and a ruby — and smiled at the memory of the gift Eva had given her all those years ago. She was a passionate young woman and Greta was very proud of herself for having won her over.
She sighed and swallowed the lump in her throat that particular memory had caused. She regretted the day she chose to marry John over continuing her love affair with Eva, and she was determined to make amends.
She checked her appearance in the compact mirror again. She then checked her watch and realized she was a half-hour early. She wondered if she should wait, but decided against it. She had waited too many years already. She walked purposefully to the building and looked at her paper to be sure of the correct apartment number. It only took a few moments for her to negotiate the flight of stairs and find Eva’s apartment.
The door was opened by a young woman of obviously ethnic origin — more obvious than the taxi driver she had speculated about. Greta blinked. She had not been expecting a Jew to open the door. Maybe she had the wrong apartment number after all.
“I’m sorry. I was looking for the Muller residence,” Greta said.
The young Jewess seemed surprised to see Greta. Her mouth opened, and then her gaze shifted to the pin that Greta wore. It was normally hidden under the lapel of her coat, but Greta had flashed the emblem to let the girl know whom she was dealing with. The Jewess’ mouth closed so tightly that there was a white line around her lips.
“Did you hear me, little girl?” Greta asked impatiently. Was the woman retarded? The Fuhrer had rightly sent such people to the camps.
“Hey, El, who’s at the door?” Zoe’s voice drifted from somewhere inside the apartment.
“I’m looking for the Muller residence. Do you know where it is?” Greta said very slowly in German. She noticed the numbers tattooed on the woman’s inner arm and she scowled. A concentration camp inmate, of course, just as she had speculated. She should have noticed that right away.
Zoe came to the door holding a cat. Her smile seemed forced. “Hey, Elena, are you okay?” she asked, letting the cat jump down to the floor.
Elena nodded and walked past Greta without saying a word. Greta resisted the urge to slap her for her rudeness. Zoe’s attention turned to Greta. Her smile became even more strained. “Please, come on in,” she said.
Greta nodded. At least Zoe was trying to be a gracious hostess. Just as Greta passed her, the cat arched its back and hissed violently at her. “Verdammt noch mal, a cat!” She grimaced. “Does that thing have to be here?”
“Yes,” Zoe said firmly. She picked the cat up. Its tail lashed back and forth, a telling sign of its continued agitation. “She’s part of our family.”
“Vile creature.” Greta sniffed.
“She usually is a very friendly kitty, aren’t you, Ourania?” Zoe cooed.
“Tsk.” Greta clucked her tongue in disgust and glanced around the place. She was surprised to find the apartment small and quite plain. She could not see anything of Eva in the décor. No one would guess that an intelligent, educated woman lived there. “Is Eva here?” she asked as she walked over to the bookcase and began to peruse the titles.
“Eva has gone down to see her father. Excuse me for a moment.” Zoe, not waiting for a reply, exited the apartment.
Greta turned away from the bookcase and stood in the lounge. She took the opportunity to look at the photographs which lined the mantle over the fireplace. A large drawing of Eva reading a book hung over the mantelpiece. “Hmm, not bad,” she murmured. The cat stared warily at her.
“You are such a horrible creature,” she said. “Oh look, now I’m talking to a cat! Dear God, how low can I get?” She shook her head in disbelief. The apartment was devoid of any character. “Oh, Eva, you do need rescuing from this place.”
***
Zoe rushed to Elena’s apartment. The front door was ajar. She went inside and found Elena huddled on the floor, her back to the sofa, crying softly.
“Hey.” Zoe held her and rubbed her back in soothing circles.
“I’m sorry, Zoe. I lost it.”
“It’s okay. I understand.” Zoe comforted Elena as best she could. She was angry that Greta had been arrogant enough to wear the swastika pin to their apartment, and that she had chosen to wear such an emblem in a country that abhorred Nazis. She found she disliked Greta even more, although she marveled at her brazenness. There could be dire consequences for Greta if the wrong person saw that pin. Arrest, certainly, or better yet, the treatment she had heard was given to women who collaborated with the enemy — a public tarring and feathering. Zoe bared her teeth in a savage grin.
“I’m okay. Go see to your guest. She probably thinks we are both retarded,” Elena said, sniffing wetly.
Zoe wiped the tears away from Elena’s face. “No. She can sit there and stew for all I care.”
“Um, hello,” Friedrich said through the open door, clearly uncertain if he should enter.
Zoe grinned. “You have perfect timing, Friedrich.” She ushered him inside and told him why Elena was upset. After the explanation, she went to Elena and gave her a peck on the cheek. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” Elena said, and held out her hand to Friedrich.
Zoe closed the door to Elena’s apartment and exhaled in a long, heartfelt sigh. She decided to walk down to Father Haralambos’ apartment and let Eva know that Greta had arrived early. Eva was coming up the stairs. Zoe hurried over and hugged her.
“Hey, I don’t mind a hug, but what’s the matter?” Eva asked, stroking Zoe’s cheek.
“Greta’s arrived.”
“Oh. Where is she?”
“In the apartment.”
“Then why are you out here?”
Zoe sighed. “Elena opened the door and that vile woman had the nerve to wear a swastika pin to our apartment. Elena saw it and lost it. She was crying, Evy.”
Eva was aghast. “I can’t understand what would possess Greta to wear such a thing, especially in an Allied country. Is Elena all right?”
“Yeah. Friedrich is with her now.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know...”
Zoe looked up into Eva’s distressed face. “How could you know, love? It was just a little on the shocking side.”
“Are you okay?” Eva asked, holding Zoe. It was apparent that she did not care that they were in the corridor, in public view of anyone who might come by.
Zoe nodded. “I was a little shaken, but it’s all right.”
“I’ll ask her to remove the pin. I don’t want to see that symbol in our home.”
Zoe smiled, feeling a little better already. “You know something, Miss Eva? I think I love you. I’ll try and behave myself.”
Eva responded with a gentle kiss. “Ready?”
Zoe nodded. Eva took Zoe’s hand and opened the door to their apartment, following her inside.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Greta stood up as the door opened and Eva walked through, hand-in-hand with her opposition. That gesture of affectionate support made no difference. She was determined to show Eva that she would win her heart back, no matter who stood in her way. This time she was not going to give Eva up as foolishly as she had done before.
“Eva!” Greta greeted Eva enthusiastically, crossing to kiss her on the cheek.
Zoe scowled. Eva tightly squeezed the hand she was holding. “Welcome to our home,” Eva said.
“Thank you, my dear,” Greta replied, scowling at Zoe. “I must say your hired help leaves a lot to be desired.”
Eva frowned and looked down at Zoe. “Hired help?”
“Your Jewish maid bolted out from here and left me here sitting like a dolt! All I did was ask her if this was where you lived—”
“Greta, I think we need to tell you—”
“Dearest, you don’t have to apologize for the hired help.” Greta talked right over Eva, which had the desired effect of irritating Zoe, whose face took on a pugnacious expression. Greta continued talking, forcing herself to hide the smirk that was threatening to emerge.
“Greta!” Eva raised her voice. It was Zoe’s turn to smirk, and she did not bother to hide it at all. “Sit down — please,” Eva continued in a more reasonable tone. “Zoe doesn’t understand German all that well, so can we speak English?”
Greta sat down immediately. “Of course,” she said in English, giving Zoe an assessing look from beneath her lashes.
She had not been expecting the once shy and reserved Eva to raise her voice in what was almost a reprimand. This was something new. She could see a change in Eva that she found rather unsettling. Before anyone could say anything further, there was a knock on the door. Zoe rolled her eyes and went to answer it. A bearded man stood there in grey overalls — some kind of laborer, Greta assumed.
“Oh...I’m sorry I interrupted you,” he apologized, his gaze lingering on Greta.
“No, Father, perfect timing,” Eva said. She took him by his hand and tugged him inside. Greta drew herself up, biting her lip in confusion. “Greta, this is my father, Panayiotis Haralambos. Father, this is Greta Wagner,” she said. Greta understood the words, but they made no real sense to her.
Father Haralambos smiled and offered his hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Wagner.”
Greta looked at the extended hand with distaste and a considerable amount of bewilderment. She looked between Eva and the man. “I thought Hans Muller was your father,” she said, wanting an explanation for this bizarre turn of events.
“I think I’ll leave you ladies in peace. Good evening, Miss Wagner. It was a pleasure to meet you,” Father Haralambos said, handing the keys of the motorcycle to Zoe, who grimaced at him as he left.
“I don’t understand, chipmunk, what’s going on?” Greta asked Eva.
A slight blush spread across Eva’s cheeks and she glanced down as if shyly pleased. “I haven’t heard that in many years.”
“What does that mean?” Zoe asked.
Greta laughed and decided to toy with Zoe. “We were enjoying each other’s company when a chipmunk raced down the tree and terrified my Eva.”
Zoe apparently found the story amusing until the word “my” came out of Greta’s mouth. The gauntlet had been thrown and they both knew it. Greta watched for Zoe’s reaction, letting an enigmatic smile cross her face as she waited for the inevitable explosion. She had only met Zoe once, but that had been enough to inform her of her combustible temperament.
“Oh, Eva, you have some tales to tell me later,” Zoe joked at last, causing Greta to frown. She had not expected Zoe to back away from the barb.
Greta switched gears. “So where did you pick Zoe up from?” she asked, making her tone as insinuating and nasty as possible. She would make this girl — this child — look like a fool. The veil would be lifted from Eva
’s eyes.
Her plan backfired, she realized a moment later. She recognized the closed-off expression on Eva’s face and realized that the situation was not as straightforward as she would have liked it to be.
“She didn’t pick me up from anywhere. I picked her up,” Zoe responded, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Eva. “Well, I did. It was my master plan to get close, then whammo!” She slid onto Eva’s lap and planted a kiss on her mouth. “Got what I wanted, thank you very much.”
“Yes, indeed,” Greta said dryly, pursing her lips at the unwelcome reminder of Eva’s romantic attachment to Zoe. “This get-together has been full of surprises.”
“What did you think the evening would be like?” Zoe asked. She moved off Eva’s lap and brought a chair over, sitting down next to her.
“I thought I would spend some time getting reacquainted with my lover,” Greta said with a smile, deliberately needling.
“Ex-lover,” Zoe growled.
Greta made a decision to see how far she could push the child and where it would lead. She needed to salvage the situation. She was the adult here, and Eva’s lover, and if someone was going to be with Eva, it would be her. What the thick-headed Zoe apparently did not know was that she was declaring war and the victor won the ultimate prize — the right to claim Eva as her own.. “Afraid of the competition?” she asked, trying to irk Zoe further.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t under the impression I was in competition for my wife’s affections,” Zoe replied, and then smiled sweetly at her.
Greta smiled, refusing to be antagonized. This was only the opening salvo of the battle. “Of course not.” She turned to Eva, who had a bemused look on her face. “So tell me what is going on, apart from you being married to Chloe.”
“My name is Zoe.”
“Pardon my mistake. I’m sorry, Zoe. I used to have a maid called Chloe,” Greta apologized insincerely. “How long have you been together?”
“Over three years,” Eva replied. “We met in Greece when my stepfather was stationed in Larissa.”
Where Shadows Linger (Intertwined Souls Series Book 2) Page 37
