"You are full of surprises."
Zoe watched Eva for a moment. "You speak fluent Greek. Where did you learn how to speak Greek?"
"My mother taught me." Eva sat down on the couch and motioned for Zoe to join her.
"Oh, yes, I forgot, you’re the bastard child," Zoe retorted, ignoring Eva’s request.
Eva took a deep breath and flexed her fingers. "How did the meeting with Captain Reinhardt go?" She asked, ignoring Zoe’s last comment.
"Other than him not getting my name right, he asked how old I was and if I could read and write."
"You can read and write?"
"Of course! We’re not all illiterate here, you know," Zoe said defensively. "I also know how to speak German," she muttered.
"I’m sorry; I didn’t mean it that way."
After a beat, Zoe looked at Eva. She reluctantly took a seat, but at the far end of the couch. "You never know when speaking German could be useful for a Greek. Do you know how to read and write?"
Eva smiled. "Yes, I know how to read and write."
"Well, you can’t cook and sew, but at least you can read and write. Your husband will be proud."
Another long sigh made Zoe smile inwardly. This is going to be so easy. After a few minutes of uneasy silence, she asked, "What were you doing before I came in?"
"You ask too many questions."
"Yes, it’s how I find out things."
Eva glanced at Zoe and shook her head. "I was writing a letter to a mother back home."
"Why?"
"He was killed last night," Eva responded tersely. "I write to all the parents after their sons have been killed or injured."
"Ah!" Zoe nodded. "That’s how you know how to copy your father’s signature."
"I don’t sign those letters—my father does."
Both women lapsed into silence for a few moments until Zoe couldn’t stand the silence. "So why are you betraying your Fatherland?"
Eva looked down at her hands, twisting the ring on her finger. "I have my reasons."
"What? Did Daddy not give you what you wanted?"
"Zoe, we are on the same side. I don’t want to fight with you."
Zoe shook her head. "You don’t get it. I’m not on your side. Your side killed my mother and I hate you."
"Why do you hate me?"
"Because you are a callous bitch."
"You don’t know me," Eva replied, sounding hurt by the bluntness of Zoe’s answer.
"You were there when my mother was killed. I saw you." Zoe looked up to find a very confused Eva looking back at her. "I heard you."
"You heard me? I don’t understand."
Zoe was not fooled by the innocent look. She was expecting it. Here was the demon she hated with all her soul, the woman she wanted to kill to avenge her mother’s death, and she was staring back at her with the most puzzled expression on her face, as if she truly didn’t know what Zoe was talking about. Zoe nodded. "I have to hand it to you—you’re good."
"I really don’t know what you’re talking about."
Zoe was angry. Angry with the woman sitting opposite her calmly denying what she had done. "When my mother lay dying, I heard you laughing. I saw you," Zoe said and waited to see if Eva reacted.
Eva sat back and shook her head. "I have never laughed when anyone was dying. I most certainly did not laugh," she said vehemently. "I wouldn’t do that."
"I wasn’t expecting you to admit it." Zoe shrugged. "You’re a Nazi and Nazis have no heart."
"You have me all worked out, don’t you? You think you know me," Eva replied angrily. She stood up and walked over to her desk, turning her back on Zoe. "You don’t know anything," she said quietly.
"I know what I saw and what I heard," Zoe continued, unfazed by Eva’s emotional outburst. "I can’t deny that."
Eva took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and regained her composure. She turned around to find Zoe was staring at her. "You are wrong. I wasn’t laughing."
"Someone was laughing," Zoe replied.
"I’m sorry about your mother’s death but I didn’t laugh."
"You didn’t even know her. How can you be sorry?" Zoe stared at Eva. "I know what I heard." She stood and walked over to Eva and looked up defiantly.
"You are a Nazi and yet you want to help the Resistance. It doesn’t add up. I don’t buy ‘Father H is my father and that’s why I’m doing it.’"
"Why is it difficult to believe?"
"You are the enemy."
"You’re right in that I’m not helping because of Father Haralambos," Eva replied. "I’m helping the Resistance for my own reasons. My reasons that are none of your business."
"Very noble," Zoe replied. "I couldn’t care less about your reasons."
"Have you ever changed your mind?"
Zoe stared at Eva for a long moment. "Yes, I’ve changed my mind many times. I’ve changed my mind about killing you although that could change again."
Eva shook her head slightly before continuing. "I changed my mind about Hitler and about the Nazis."
"So you’re telling me that when you found out who your real daddy was, you jumped ship?" Zoe asked sarcastically.
"You’re not going to be easy to get along with, are you?" Eva blurted.
"No," Zoe replied. "Get used to it."
***
Eva sighed. She was getting tired of Zoe’s antagonism. She had enough hate to deal with in her life, and adding one more person who hated her was just overwhelming. Father Haralambos had told her that Zoe was going to be doggedly determined to hate her no matter what. She thought the priest was stretching the truth a little, but she could see that winning Zoe’s trust was going to be difficult, if not impossible.
"Do you know about the ‘Night of Broken Glass’?" Eva asked, motioning for Zoe to resume her seat on the couch.
"No." Zoe shook her head. For a moment, she ignored the Eva’s request, but then she sat down again.
"Kristallnacht," Eva said in German. "It was a night of shame. Our group had assembled and a few of the older girls and boys heard about a plan to scare the Jews. Greta, she was my best friend, wanted to go." Eva went to the window and stared out. "Greta wanted to go and she wanted me along, so I went. Mutti thought I was at Greta’s house." Eva tried to collect her thoughts. "I remember standing in the courtyard of a synagogue which had been set on fire. My friends were laughing and joking. For the first time I was ashamed to be in the Bund Deutscher Madel."
"You killed Jews?"
Eva didn’t turn around but continued to stare outside. "No. I helped to burn a few houses and a synagogue... I watched as a rabbi was beaten. I watched and did nothing. I might as well have been the one who dealt the blows." Eva was lost in her memories and she mentally shook herself as she continued. "I helped my friends destroy people’s lives and I didn’t stop them."
There was complete silence in the room except for the noise of the soldiers outside though the open window.
"I stood by and did nothing. I ran all the way home and that’s when I found out my mother had been killed."
"How?" Zoe asked, her voice no longer sounding angry.
"Someone thought she was a Jewess and shot her," Eva said, trying to regain her composure before turning around to face Zoe.
"Oh," Zoe whispered.
"So we both know how it feels to lose our beloved mother," Eva said. "You’re not the first to lose their parent." Eva slowly lowered herself onto the couch again.
"Is that when you decided to work against the Nazis?"
"No. It was after I went to join my father in France," Eva replied. She wasn’t about to reveal everything about herself to Zoe.
"Remember what I said about killing you?" Zoe quietly asked.
"Yes." Eva nodded. "I remember. It’s not something I can forget."
"I meant it. You are everything I hate."
"You don’t know me. How can you hate me?" Eva reasoned.
"I don’t need to know the devil to want," Zoe stopped
for a moment, "her dead."
"Hitting me with a stone in the head won’t do it," Eva remarked wryly. "That just gave me a lump."
Zoe smiled.
"Why didn’t you? Why did you choose a rock and not a bullet?"
Zoe took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I didn’t have my gun when I saw you," she replied honestly.
"Lucky for me."
"I also don’t think your life is worth a hundred souls."
"Oh."
"You represent everything I hate," Zoe said again. "How did you find out your real father was Father H? Did you roam the Greek countryside asking every priest you met if he was your real father?"
Despite the sarcasm, Eva found the question funny and chuckled, which only caused Zoe to scowl. Eva composed herself but couldn’t help the smile that creased her face. "You have a unique way of expressing yourself."
"It’s a gift." Zoe shrugged and folded her arms across her chest. "So, what’s the story?"
Eva paused and got up from her seat, went to her desk and took a photo. "This is my mother," she said and gave the photo to Zoe.
Zoe looked at the black and white photograph of a striking woman and a younger version of Eva. Without a word, Zoe handed the picture back. "So that’s how Father H knew who you were."
"My mother was from this village." Eva looked down at the photo and sighed.
"What’s her name?"
"Daphne Mitsos."
Zoe scratched her head in thought for a long moment. "I don’t know her."
"I didn’t think you would. She left Larissa in 1919."
"So your mother was from this village and you instantly thought your father was the local priest?" Zoe asked with a puzzled expression.
"No, the local priest knows everything about a village so I asked him if he knew who my father was," Eva replied. She could tell Zoe would need a lot of convincing to believe her good fortune.
"You just happened to find the local priest, who was your real father?" Zoe asked incredulously.
"Yes."
"A priest doesn’t marry, you know that, right?"
"I don’t think it’s my place to tell you the story. It’s none of your business. The truth is that Father Haralambos is my father. If you don’t want to believe it, that’s up to you, but it’s the truth."
"So out of all the folks in Greece, or even in this village, you found him." Zoe shook her head. "This is really worse than that Petrakis drama."
When it was put that way even Eva found it difficult to believe. "Yes. I would like to think of it as divine intervention, but I suspect Major Muller chose to come to Larissa."
"Why?"
"I don’t know."
Eva remained quiet; there wasn’t anything she could say to the young woman. They sat in silence for a while, each in their own world of pain, trying to come to grips with their own demons. For Eva, the gentle chimes of the antique clock were a decided relief, for they had broken what had been a puzzling train of thought. It was strange. Here she was, raised in a life of privilege as the child of a Nazi officer, educated in the best schools and yet in some strange way, she was overwhelmed by the feeling that she somehow did not quite measure up to this intense peasant girl with the soft green eyes, whose face was as beautiful as her name.
But there was more to it than that and Eva knew it. Already she sensed that there was something about Zoe. Something that was sparking emotions in her that she had not felt in a long time. Yes, it was indeed strange. In fact, as she sat there in the thick silence, it finally occurred to her that she admired Zoe’s courage and passion. The fire in her eyes when she spoke about the things she loved and her commitment to her homeland. How she spoke about the love for her family and her friends.
Cupping her hand, Eva stared down at her perfectly manicured nails as if they encompassed in this moment all that made up the universe. For what seemed like an eternity after the clock’s chime, she continued to sit there silently alongside the equally mute Zoe.
Eva found Zoe captivating, and had they been in another time and place, she wondered if they could or would have been friends. She wondered if the only thing in Zoe’s heart was a burning desire for revenge, for swift and terrible retribution for what had been done to her homeland and to her mother. And who in God’s name could blame her?
Finally, in a voice so low Zoe had to strain to hear, Eva said, "You realize, of course, the risk you are taking."
"Life is full of risks, both great and small." Zoe stared deeply into Eva’s eyes and slowly added, "For all of us."
"Yes," said Eva, returning Zoe’s mesmerizing gaze. "I suppose that is true. Well, I think Father Haralambos was right. You are perfect for the job."
"Aren’t you scared that I may turn around and kill you anyway?"
"You may, but that’s another risk I’m prepared to take."
From down the hall the heavy tread of Despina reverberated as she labored up the stairs. Eva stood up and in a clear voice asked, "You understand, then, what is expected of you?"
"Yes, Fraulein Muller," Zoe meekly replied, standing up as well. "I assure you, I am a quick learner."
As they heard the hesitant knock on the door, Eva said, "Good. You will begin your duties immediately."
"Yes, Fraulein Muller."
"Come in, Despina."
In a voice that seemed perpetually out of breath, Despina said, "Your lunch is ready, Fraulein Eva."
"Very well," pronounced Eva. She turned to Zoe and said, "At the moment I’m going to finish writing those letters. Will you please bring it up to me?"
"As you wish." The tone of Zoe’s voice was properly respectful, but as their eyes met, Eva thought she detected just a hint of grim amusement in Zoe’s expression.
"This way," Despina panted.
Without looking back, Zoe followed her out the door and down the hall. Eva stood at the door and watched Zoe as she patiently followed Despina as she waddled down the hall, and then as they disappeared down the steps. When they were gone, Eva’s gaze lingered for a moment or two before she quietly closed the door.
Chapter Sixteen
Zoe sat at the kitchen table and looked down at the dark wooden top, deep in thought. She was sitting in the house of her mama’s murderer. God was mocking her—He had to be for her to end up here. Being a servant to the murderer’s daughter, or was that his stepdaughter? Zoe didn’t know what to believe or who to believe. Father Haralambos was not going to lie to her; there was no reason for it and he was a man of God. Despite losing her faith in God, Zoe still respected the priest. She couldn’t fault him for believing in a cruel God who had robbed her of everything. No. Father Haralambos had been like a father to her, and for that she wasn’t going to thank God. God had nothing to do with it. Nor did He have anything to do with the kindness and love that was shown to her by Kiria Despina—the older woman had looked out for her and became her adopted aunt. Zoe seldom bestowed the honorific ‘aunty’ to anyone she didn’t feel was deserving of that honor, but she felt Despina had earned that title. Greeks were very quick to bestow the term ‘aunt’ or ‘grandma’ but Zoe didn’t think it was right to honor someone because they had lived longer than she had. Respect was earned as far as she was concerned.
"What are you muttering to yourself about, child?" Despina came round the table and sat down. She set down the tray table that had some toast and two eggs on a plate.
"I wasn’t thanking God for Father Haralambos and you," Zoe explained with a slight smile when she saw Despina’s exasperated look.
"You must not mock God."
"Really? Why not?"
"He is the Almighty--"
"Almighty who sits on his hands, you mean? He is responsible for all of this." Zoe flayed her hands up in the air. "He is responsible for not listening to our prayers. Remember those?"
"Zoe--"
"We prayed this day would not come. We did. We prayed, we lit candles, we prostrated ourselves on the ground, and we begged. What did that get us? It got us
war, it got us death."
Despina put her arm around Zoe’s shoulders and leaned in for a kiss. "You have not lost everything. You have me and Father Haralambos, and we both love you a great deal."
"Hm." Zoe nodded and then gazed at Despina with a smile. "I love you too and I’m sorry you have to work for these demons."
"Not all of them are demons. Especially young Eva."
"Demon’s spawn."
"Zoe!"
"What? It’s the truth."
"We need to have a talk about that later. Take the tray up to Eva. She should be up now even though they had a late night."
"Why?"
"Why, what? Why should you take up the tray? You are taking the tray up because you’re her maid now."
Zoe sighed. "I know that, but why did they have a late night?"
Despina smiled at Zoe. "Sometimes, even in a war zone, there is some happiness. She got engaged to Captain Reinhardt last night."
"Oh." Zoe nodded as she got up from her seat. She placed a towel over the tray and looked back at Despina. "Reinhardt must not mind that she’s a cripple."
"Zoe!" Despina exclaimed as Zoe chuckled and left the kitchen with the tray.
***
Zoe was still chuckling when she approached the steps. Two soldiers were standing at the bottom of the stairs; both were smoking and were standing around casually. She passed them without a word and was a little curious as to why they were not at the top of the steps as they had been the previous day.
Zoe cast a backward glance at the soldiers, who were oblivious to her curiosity. Hm, that is odd, but maybe it’s not normal they were up there yesterday. Wonder if they thought I would kill the cripple. She adjusted her hold on the tray. Taking a sniff of the flower in the mini vase, she approached Eva’s room, which was the furthest away from the stairs. What an odd place to put a cripple. The door to Eva’s room was slightly ajar.
Zoe was about to tap and enter when she stopped cold. She could hear the bed creaking but there was something else—a low moan, almost the sound of a wounded animal, but she wasn’t sure. It sounded like someone was in pain. She glanced behind her wondering if she should call the guards from downstairs. She put the tray on a nearby chair and was about to enter when she stopped just as her hand touched the door. She heard a man’s low and deep voice speaking in German. She frowned and leaned towards the door, placing both hands very lightly against it. The creaking, the low moans, and a man’s voice made Zoe’s eyes widen. The noises inside became a little louder and she finally understood what was going on.
In The Blood Of The Greeks (Intertwined Souls Series Book 1) Page 13
