miserable and almost wished she had never seen the cloth.
“It’s a present for Anna from a relative,” said Mama.
“No,” said Papa. “It’s a present from a relative who runs a charity – a charity for needy children.”
“All right then, we’ll give it back!” shouted Mama. “If that’s what you want! But will you tell me what the child is going to wear? Do you know the price of children’s clothes in the shops? Look at her – just look at her!”
Papa looked at Anna and Anna looked back at him. She wanted the new clothes but she did not want Papa to feel so badly about them. She tugged at her skirt to make it look longer.
“Papa …” she said.
“You do look a bit needy,” said Papa. His face looked very tired.
“It doesn’t matter,” said Anna.
“Yes, it does,” said Papa. “It does matter.” He fingered the stuff in the parcels. “Is this the cloth?”
She nodded.
“Well then, you’d better get it made up into some new clothes,” said Papa. “Something warm,” he said and went out of the room.
In bed that night Anna and Max lay talking in the dark.
“I didn’t know we were needy,” said Anna. “Why are we?”
“Papa doesn’t earn a lot,” said Max. “The Daily Parisian can’t afford to pay him very much for his articles and the French have their own writers.”
“They used to pay him a lot in Germany.”
“Oh yes.”
For a while they lay without talking. Then Anna said, “Funny, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“How we used to think we’d be back in Berlin within six months. We’ve been away more than a year already.”
“I know,” said Max.
Suddenly, for no particular reason, Anna remembered their old house so vividly that she could almost see it. She remembered what it felt like to run up the stairs and the little patch on the carpet on the landing where she had once spilt some ink, and how you could see the pear tree in the garden from the windows. The nursery curtains were blue and there was a white-painted table to write or draw on and Bertha the maid had cleaned it all every day and there had been a lot of toys …But it was no use going on thinking about it, so she closed her eyes and went to sleep.
The dressmaking session at the Fernands was a great success. Madame Fernand was just as nice as Anna remembered her, and she cut out Great-Aunt Sarah’s cloth so cleverly that there was enough for a pair of grey shorts for Max as well as a coat, a dress and a skirt for Anna. When Mama offered to help with the sewing Madame Fernand looked at her and laughed.
“You go and play the piano,” she said, “I’ll get on with this.”
“But I’ve even brought some sewing things,” said Mama. She dug in her handbag and produced an elderly reel of white cotton and a needle.
“My dear,” said Madame Fernand quite kindly, “I wouldn’t trust you to hem a handkerchief.”
So Mama played the piano at one end of the Fernands’ pleasant sitting room while Madame Fernand sewed at the other, and Anna and Max went off to play with the Fernand’s daughter Francine.
Max had had grave doubts about Francine before they came.
“I don’t want to play with a girl!” he had said, and even claimed that he could not come because of his homework.
“You’ve never been so keen on your homework before!” said Mama crossly, but it was not really fair because lately, in his efforts to learn French as fast as possible, Max had become much more conscientious about school. He was deeply offended and scowled at everyone until they arrived at the Fernands’ flat and Francine opened the door for them. Then his scowl quickly disappeared. She was a remarkably pretty girl with long honey-coloured hair and large grey eyes.
“You must be Francine,” said Max and added untruthfully but in surprisingly good French, “I have so much looked forward to meeting you!”
Francine had quite a lot of toys and a big white cat. The cat immediately took possession of Anna and sat on her lap while Francine searched for something in her toy cupboard. At last she found it.
“This is what I got for my birthday,” she said and produced a games compendium very like the one Anna and Max had owned in Germany.
Max’s eyes met Anna’s over the cat’s white fur.
“Can I see?” he asked and had it open almost before Francine agreed. He took a long time looking at the contents fingering the dice, the chessmen, the different kinds of playing cards.
“We used to have a box of games like this,” he said at last. “Only ours had dominoes as well.”
Francine looked a little put out at having her birthday present belittled.
“What happened to yours?” she asked.
“We had to leave it behind,” said Max and added gloomily, “I expect Hitler plays with it now.”
Francine laughed. “Well, you’ll have to use this one instead,” she said. “As I have no brothers or sisters I don’t often have anyone to play with.”
After this they played Ludo and Snakes and Ladders all afternoon. It was nice because the white cat sat on Anna’s lap and there was no need for her to speak much French during the games. The white cat seemed quite happy to have dice thrown over its head and did not want to get down even when Madame Fernand called Anna to try on the new clothes. For tea it ate a bit of iced bun which Anna gave it, and afterwards it climbed straight back on to her lap and smiled at her through its long white fur. When it was time to leave it followed her to the front door.
“What a pretty cat,” said Mama when she saw it.
Anna was longing to tell her how it had sat on her lap while she had played Ludo but thought it would be rude to speak German when Madame Fernand could not understand it. So, very haltingly, she explained in French.
“I thought you told me Anna spoke hardly any French,” said Madame Fernand.
Mama looked very pleased. “She is beginning to,” she said.
“Beginning to!” exclaimed Madame Fernand. “I’ve never seen two children learn a language so fast. Max sounds almost like a French boy at times and as for Anna – only a month or two ago she could hardly say a word, and now she understands everything!”
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