Wow. You really are cursed. Zoe momentarily felt sorry for Eva.
"It was a blessing that Dr. Muller was in France at the time. I heard from Dr. Baer that he is a true healer," Alana exclaimed and took Eva’s hand. "Nurse Edith will update me on everything I need to do to make you feel better. It’s remarkable how far you have come, especially after the bombing. Dr. Muller is so proud of you."
Why are you going to be kept updated about her, Nurse Blondie? You are just strange. All you Nazis are just strange. Zoe mentally sighed.
"Yes, it’s been a difficult recovery," Eva replied tersely.
"She also happens to be the most stubborn patient I’ve ever had to treat, but I do remember Dr. Muller telling me about a nurse that seemed to get Eva to listen, which was quite a feat."
Eva turned her gaze at Edith and stared at her for the longest time. "His name was Karl."
"Yes, that’s his name. Karl. Good looking young man, wasn’t he, Eva?"
Eva turned away and nodded. "Yes."
"He was rather sweet, if I remember correctly, but Erik won your hand, right from under the young man’s nose, no less!" Edith continued her story to Alana, oblivious to Eva’s very obvious discomfort in talking about Aiden.
"I was wondering what had happened to you." Zoe couldn’t help herself and spoke to Eva in Greek.
"I wasn’t born a cripple," Eva replied, causing Zoe to merely gaze at her.
Edith watched Eva and Zoe for a moment before she focused her attention on Eva. "Are we going to have another round of this?" She asked and glanced at Alana. "I can hide it from your father for a short time but he is not going to be happy."
Eva let her head drop and slowly shook her head. "What does it matter to my father if I don’t take my medication?"
"He loves you. You know that and it hurts him if you don’t look after yourself."
"Well, we can’t have him feeling hurt," Eva replied sarcastically. The comment earned her a raised eyebrow.
It’s a brief act of defiance. You are staging your own mini resistance war. Zoe watched Alana get handed the syringe. That didn’t last very long but it was worth a try. Her thoughts were interrupted when Eva looked up as if she had sensed Zoe’s thoughts. She gazed into Eva’s eyes for a long moment, and for a brief second she saw a flash of anger and then it was gone.
"An old friend of yours will be dropping in this week," Edith said as she set out a syringe on a towel on the sofa. She looked up to find Eva staring at her. "Dr. Uta Baer will be stopping in on her way to France."
Eva blinked rapidly and her eyes completely betrayed her rising panic. Zoe noticed her shoulders slump and that all too brief defiant act was gone. This Dr. Baer terrifies her.
Eva took several gulps of air, her distress clearly evident to everyone in the room, although the two nurses were not reacting to it.
"Eva, darling, she is just coming to see how you are. That’s all. It won’t involve any treatments. I promise you that. Dr. Muller can’t make it, which is most unfortunate as he would love to see you," Edith said as she let go of the syringe and reached out for Eva’s hand.
Zoe’s gaze never left Eva’s face, which was quite ashen. Who are Dr. Muller and Dr. Baer? They are not people she wants to see, but the nurses are not noticing this?
"I have been sending him such glowing reports about your health that he wanted to come and see for himself but he’s been unable to get away. Dr. Baer was in Thessaloniki and then she’s going to Athens, so this would be a perfect time to come visit us."
"Who are Dr. Muller and Dr. Baer?" Zoe decided to ask. Her curiosity had won out and she wanted to know who these people were more than she wanted to observe.
"Dr. Dieter Muller. He is Major Muller’s brother and a world-renowned physician. He treated Eva in 1938. Dr. Baer treated Eva in France after the bombing."
"Who?" Zoe asked, not understanding the more difficult German words.
"Satan and his little helper," Eva muttered in Greek. Zoe’s eyebrows rose at Eva’s words and she glanced at the nurses, who were oblivious to the statement.
"Where is Dr. Muller?" Zoe said in German. She didn’t want to give away Eva’s honest answer. One look at Eva’s anxious demeanor was enough to tell her Satan and his little helper terrified her.
"He’s stationed in France," Eva replied and looked down at her hands. She twisted the ring on her finger, completely lost in thought.
"Dr. Baer is looking forward to seeing you," Edith said before she took hold of the syringe and gave it to Alana. The needle caused Zoe’s eyes to widen.
Without a word, Alana pushed up Eva’s sleeve from her robe and gently wiped a patch on her upper arm with white gauze. Eva pulled her arm away from Alana’s grasp momentarily. Alana’s response was to take Eva’s arm without a word.
Ah, Blondie, you’re not so nice, are you? Zoe watched the interaction.
"I know you hate injections and would do anything to get out of them. I could get your father to give them to you if you want. Is that what you want?"
Eva shook her head at Edith’s very real threat. "No."
"No, I didn’t think you would." Edith watched Alana bring the injection to Eva’s arm and slowly push it in, causing Eva and Zoe to wince in unison.
While Alana tidied up after herself, Zoe’s gaze remained with Eva, who had closed her eyes. Zoe noticed the Eva’s hands shake, as whatever she had been given was causing her distress. Zoe was about to say something when Eva’s hands clenched. Edith looked down and didn’t say a word. She merely prepared some pills from her bag. She stood up and walked to where the breakfast tray lay and poured Eva a glass of water. She came back and helped Eva sit up to take the pills.
There was no defiance, no act of resistance. Whatever resistance Zoe had seen, it had disappeared.
For a brief moment their eyes met and all Zoe could see was surrender in Eva’s eyes.
What really happened to you? Eva closed her eyes; her hands were clenched.
"What did you give her?’
Edith gazed down at her charge and brushed Eva’s dark hair from her eyes. "Nothing you should concern yourself with."
Zoe wasn’t sure if Edith cared for her patient or not, but whatever was going on, it wasn’t what she was expecting.
Just what I need; more complications. Zoe watched Edith get up from the bed and repack her bag.
Chapter Eighteen
"Wasn’t there anywhere smaller they can put me?" Zoe asked as she stood in the doorway of the room that was assigned to her. The room was located next to Eva’s bedroom, which didn’t please Zoe, or Eva for that matter, but that’s where Major Muller wanted her. It wasn’t exactly a room. It was the tiniest room she had ever seen.
"Zoe--" Despina put her arm around Zoe’s shoulders.
"My chicken coup at the farm is bigger than this," Zoe muttered as she stepped into the room. A bed and a single wooden chair, acting as a bedside table, took up half the space of the room. "Why can’t I live across the street?"
"Major Muller wants his daughter’s maid to be close by."
"I live across the street. That’s close." Zoe was undeterred by Despina’s reasoning. She went to bounce on the bed and was surprised to find that it was rock hard. "Ouch, my butt did not like that."
Despina leaned against the doorjamb and shook her head. "This is not a holiday at the seaside."
"They could at least give me a soft bed," Zoe muttered. She noticed her legs dangling off the side of the tall bed. "These people are giants. Look at the height of this bed!"
"I don’t think the Germans brought their beds halfway across Europe," Despina entered the room and hurried Zoe off the bare mattress.
Zoe made a face as she got off the bed and watched as Despina put a clean white sheet, a pillow, and a blanket. "I don’t like this place; it’s very cold."
"It gets that way in the evening."
"No, I don’t mean the house is cold, but there isn’t any warmth to the people. I know the Nazis are col
d but this is like the Pinios in winter. Almost frozen." Zoe sat back down on the bed, mindful this time of the hardboard beneath the mattress.
Despina gazed at Zoe for a moment. "Your job is not to try and understand these Germans. Just get some rest tonight."
"Doesn’t her majesty need anything tonight?"
"Zoe! You need to show some respect."
"Respect is earned, Aunty. I’m not going to respect that Nazi bitch or anyone else in this house."
"I live here too." Despina raised an eyebrow at Zoe’s comment.
"Except for you."
Despina sighed and crossed herself. "Goodness, child, you are going to get yourself killed talking like that."
"Nah." Zoe waved away the suggestion. "They need a maid and no one else is stupid enough to do the job."
Despina smiled, stepped forward, and kissed Zoe on the top of her head. "You are a brave young lady, little one. I know what it means for you to be in the same house as that evil creature. You are doing God’s work."
Zoe raised her eyes and met Despina’s gaze. "I’m not doing God’s work—I’m doing the work of the Resistance. God has nothing to do with it."
Despina put her arms around Zoe and hugged her. "I remember when you were born. Your mama held you in her arms and you were screeching so loudly, I think the next village could hear you. She named you Zoe because that’s what you were—a new life. You were so full of life. For me and the rest of the Resistance, you are doing the work of God."
Zoe didn’t say a word; she couldn’t. The mere mention of her mother and the reality that she would never again see her again made her physically ill. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat and sighed deeply as she lifted her gaze towards the ceiling.
Despina tenderly kissed Zoe’s cheek. "My darling Zoe, your mama would be so proud of you. Now get some rest. It’s going to be a busy day tomorrow."
"Why?" Zoe asked hoarsely.
"We have visitors staying with us. Now get some rest," Despina urged Zoe and gave her a parting kiss on the head and walked out of the room.
Zoe watched Despina leave and the door close. Her meager possessions were lying at the foot of the bed. There was no wardrobe to hang her clothes, but a clothesline attached to two hooks on other side of the room. With a shake of her head she began to unpack the small suitcase she had packed after going back to the house across the street.
Zoe worked purposely to hang up the clothes and arrange her two pairs of shoes neatly in the corner. It didn’t take her long to arrange things the way she wanted them. Her sketchbook and pencils were neatly laid out on the chair. She sat down on the bed and watched the afternoon shadows creep along the floorboards. She brought the chair towards her and flipped over the book to the nearest blank page.
Zoe smiled as she picked up her pencil. The Resistance had another tool at their disposal that most of the Germans were unaware of—Zoe’s photographic memory. Relying on that gift and her ability to draw, she started to draw the house plans that she would complete as she was taken to various areas that she would be going. The Resistance could use those plans for a later bombing the same way they had used her skills with the first German commander. She stopped drawing when the sound of a soldier’s voice reached her from outside. The evening curfew had begun. Several minutes later gunshots were heard in the still night air, making her shake her head at the apparent loss of yet another life.
Zoe put down her pencil and went to the window. She pulled back the curtain and looked outside. She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. She could see the guards stationed at the gate and beyond that her own house. She smiled on seeing young Dimitri standing at the window.
Marika and her son Dimitri were homeless. The Germans had taken over their modest home for their use, not caring what happened to the widow and her son. They were looked after by the Church but that was not a home. Zoe quickly thought of them and the now vacant house. She had spoken to Father Haralambos and arranged for them to move in.
Marika was Zoe’s link to the Resistance and could send for her, if needed, to get the message out. Zoe’s movements were going to be watched even more carefully now that she was working at the house.
Zoe’s attention was drawn to the line of cars that had stopped in the courtyard. "I bet that’s not King George who is visiting," Zoe said aloud as she watched a soldier rush to the passenger side and open the door. A tall woman exited the car and was greeted by Major Muller with a kiss on the cheek.
Zoe let go of the curtain and hurriedly ripped the page from the sketchbook. She folded the page and stuck it under her thin mattress for another time. She crossed the short distance to the door, opened it, and stuck her head out. Henry talked quietly with another soldier for a moment before the soldier went back down the steps. Henry turned and caught Zoe’s attention.
"Do we have royalty visiting?" Zoe asked as she opened the door fully and stepped out.
"Royalty?"
"Long line of cars outside."
"Oh, that. No, not royalty."
"Who?"
Henry stared at Zoe for a long moment. "Why do you need to know?"
"Why are you going to keep asking me why I’m asking?"
"Because I need to know."
Zoe smiled knowingly. "That’s my answer."
"I should have shot you," Henry replied as he ran his hand over his bald head in frustration.
"Who is here?"
"Go back inside and mind your own business." Henry put his hands on Zoe’s shoulders and gently pushed her back inside the room. "You ask too many questions."
"Because I need to know," Zoe quipped giving him a sly smile.
"You’re going to get yourself shot."
"Would you miss me?"
"I would miss my bed bugs more," Henry muttered and closed the door, leaving a grinning Zoe in his wake. Moments later Zoe crouched against the door and put her ear against the wood.
The sound of footsteps and muffled chatter filled the corridor. Zoe cracked open the door and found herself staring at the back of Henry’s leg. He had positioned himself outside her door and she was unable to discern who was on the landing.
Zoe backed away from the door with a puzzled expression on her face. Whoever it was, they were important enough for Major Muller to greet them. She went back to the drawings she had hidden under the mattress, and on the opposite side of the house layout, she started to write what she had just seen.
Chapter Nineteen
Zoe strode towards the cemetery with her head down as the wind whipped around her red hair. Zoe pulled the warm coat tighter as slowed her pace when she saw an old woman cleaning weeds from her mother’s grave. She watched the woman, her face obscured by a black headscarf—a common sight among the old women out of respect for their dead loved ones. Zoe hated the color. She preferred bright colors like yellow, light blue or orange, but her favorite was fire engine red. At her mother’s funeral Zoe refused to wear black. She wore a bright orange skirt and a dark blue shirt. Naturally the old women of the town were scandalized but many thought the child had lost her mind and made allowances.
On getting closer to her parent’s grave Zoe noticed the old woman’s white hair peeking out from the scarf.
"Hello?"
"Oh, good morning, my little Zoe!" The old woman turned. Her smile creased an already lined face and her big brown eyes crinkled. She was short and rail thin. Zoe never forgot a face but she was having a problem in remembering who the woman was and where she lived.
"Do I know you?"
"My name is Aretha Palakalios," the old woman introduced herself and chuckled at the confused look on Zoe’s face. "Your aunty Stella sent me."
"Oh!" Zoe’s scowl turned to a happy smile when she heard her aunt’s name. "You’re from Thessaloniki?"
"I am, I am. Come, let’s sit down." Aretha looked around and spotted a crate near a tree. "Ah, a crate, how convenient."
"I use it to sit and talk to my parents," Zoe responded as she took
off her coat and placed it on the damp grass before she sat cross-legged on the ground. Aretha sat down on the crate. "So, my aunt Stella sent you, yiayia?"
Aretha smiled. "She did."
"Why couldn’t she come herself?"
Aretha crossed herself and kissed the silver cross that hung around her neck. "Ah, my dear child, Stella has been caught up in some troubles of her own."
"Oh? Does she know about Mama?"
"No, we didn’t get the news in Thessaloniki, I’m sorry to say."
"So Aunty Stella doesn’t know about me being alone?"
"No, my darling, she doesn’t. Stella is up to her neck in trouble with the Germans. She’s the personal physician to the commander in Thessaloniki."
"Well." Zoe shook her head, a slight smile appearing on her lips. "I think this is the first time I feel sorry for a German since this war started."
Aretha chuckled in response to Zoe’s comment. "She is a little on the exuberant side."
"So does that mean she won’t be coming down here?"
"No, my darling Zoe, she can’t."
"So, I’m on my own," Zoe muttered as she picked up the blades of grass that peaked out from the edges of her coat. "I was wondering what had happened to her."
"You’re not alone. You have Father Haralambos looking after you--"
Zoe continued to stare at the grass she had clipped and played with it in her hand. "How do you know about Father Haralambos?" She tilted her head a little and regarded Aretha. "Did you come into town very early? Father H is in church every morning at five."
"No, it was very late. Two boys from the Resistance brought me into town because it was after curfew and they found me on the road. They told me about you."
"You walked from Thessaloniki?"
"I tried to run but I ran out of puff." Aretha grinned at Zoe’s exaggerated eye roll.
"You’ve been spending far too much time with my aunty Stella."
"She’s a good girl and hopefully, if she doesn’t kill the commander out of sheer lunacy, she may live to the end of the war."
"So, how is she? The last time I saw her she was so unhappy after Uncle Timothy got killed."
In The Blood Of The Greeks (Intertwined Souls Series Book 1) Page 15
