5

Those words on that sheet of paper. Each letter was full of venom. It torments my soul. May I please write to you? I won’t expect a response from you, all I want is someone who’ll listen to me. What can I expect of my stay here? I am afraid that I will have to live here for four months under the disapproval and contempt of an aunt I barely know. Is that better or worse than living in the manse?

I climbed down the stairs, uncertain. I had no idea what time it was, but it must have been later than Auntie’s regular rising time. What I wanted to do most was quietly creep downstairs, crawl and hide in a corner unnoticed, but the stairs creaked with every step I made.

Finally I was downstairs. I stood for a moment and listened for noises that could tell me where Auntie was, but all was silent and I walked to the kitchen.

I knocked on the door and carefully pushed it open. It was nice and warm in the kitchen and my eyes were immediately drawn to the stove. The warmth radiating from it was so pleasant, and I realized that Auntie must have been up for a while already. I closed the door softly behind me and walked into the kitchen. The smell of freshly baked pancakes hung in the air. Pancakes! When was the last time I had eaten pancakes?

On the table was a note. I went to see what it said. ’I’m looking after the pigs. I’ll be right back.’

I looked out the window, half expecting to see Auntie, but the window was too small and the distance to the pig house too far. Besides, Auntie was most likely still in there. Should I go and see her?

Meekly I sat down on the edge of a chair. I kept my legs demurely together and lay my hands in my lap.

What would Auntie say when she returned? I could tell that she had been up for hours already while I had been in bed sleeping all that time. Of course she would ask questions. Again, I looked out the window, afraid I would see her coming already. I was afraid that she’d come straight at me with large, determined steps. I expected her to ask me after the father of the child and she naturally would want to know how far along I was. She would chastise me, discipline me and maybe even call me names. My hands began a life of their own and started to pull on the fringes of the tablecloth. With quick movements they made a little braid. When it was done my fingers took three more strands to make another braid.

’Have you got a touch of the flu, Maria?’ Mrs. Kleut’s remark sounded innocent enough, but she hung over the counter in a curiously interested manner and she took a good look at me. Her smile seemed insincere and I felt my cheeks burn.

‘You’re looking a bit under the weather lately.’

‘Mother would like a pound of sugar.’ I said.

‘Anything else?’

‘Flour.’

‘How much would you like, Maria?’

‘One pound, no, two.’

I pushed my hands into my coat pockets and stretched myself as long as I could while trying to suck in my stomach.

‘Have you seen Helène lately, Maria?

‘What do you mean?’

‘Oh well, you know. That woman from the west side.’ Mrs Kleut shook her head toward the west side. She didn’t wait for my response, but hissed at me: ‘They say she’s pregnant again.’

She looked at me with her eyebrows raised suggestively.

I did not know what to say, so I just put the money on the counter and took my groceries. Without saying goodbye I rushed out the store. I tripped at the entrance but managed to keep my balance. The sugar started to slip from my hands and almost fell. I managed to hold the package in place with my chin. After a little ways I stopped and knelt down to rearrange my groceries. My fingers were trembling and I held on tightly to each paper bag to make sure that nothing would fall. Mrs. Kleut’s words echoed in my head. Helène is pregnant. Pregnant. The horrible truth, which became more and more clear to me, made me shiver.

There were twelve small braids hanging off the tablecloth when I suddenly heard the clip-clop of wooden shoes. A quick glance at the window told me that Auntie was on her way. I feverishly started to pick at the braids trying to untangle them. I was sure Auntie would be angry with me if she saw what I had been doing. I had to make sure she wouldn’t see any of it.

‘Good morning, Maria!’

‘Good morning, Auntie Be.’ I wasn’t quite finished taking the braids apart, and, while fumbling clumsily, I tried to position myself in front of them.

‘Did you sleep well?’

‘Oh, yes, I did. Thank you.’

‘What are you fumbling with your hands, do you always braid the fringes of tablecloths?’

‘I… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…’

‘Don’t worry about it. It’s all right. Can I see?’

She came and had a closer look at one of the braids.

‘Just like when you were young, I remember it well.’ She had a beaming smile on her face. ‘Do you like pancakes?’

I nodded and placed my hands in my lap again. Straight backed and with my stomach as flat as possible I stayed seated, quietly. What should I do? What did she expect me to do? Would this be when the accusations came? Maybe Auntie wanted to wait with that till after the meal? I closed my eyes and shuddered.

‘Come and have a look, Maria.’

I quickly rose and walked to her.

‘I’ll just show you where everything is, so you’ll be able to find your way in this kitchen.’

‘Dishes, pots and pans are obvious of course,’ Auntie said as she gestured towards the plate rack. The spoons hung there as well, and underneath them was a blue pan shelving unit. The pots and pans were on the top shelf and on the lower shelf were the lids. Just as I remembered from when I was young.

Auntie moved toward the large kitchen cabinet and opened up the doors.

‘This is where I store my sugar, salt and flour. There are more things in this cabinet, so feel free to take your time one of these days and see what’s all in here.’ She closed the cabinet and walked toward the little steps that led to the ‘opkamer’, a room that was built at a slightly raised floor level to accommodate a cellar below. She swung the steps upward, which allowed her to open the door to the cellar.

‘I’m sure you’ll remember this.’

I followed her down into the cellar and saw in the semi-dark shelves along the walls, filled with canning jars and Cologne preserving pots. These canning jars were all filled.

‘You have plenty of stock, Auntie.’

She turned and looked at me, smiling.

‘Yes, and now we can enjoy eating it all together.’ I turned back to the four steps that led us back up to the kitchen.

‘We’ll eat soon, would you mind setting the table?’

I nodded and took two dishes from the plate shelf, found utensils and two mugs for milk. Auntie disappeared again into the cellar and emerged with butter and a jar of jam. She pulled a pot of sugar from the cabinet as well and soon we sat down to eat. I watched how Auntie asked for a blessing over her meal. With eyes wide open I looked at her face, the round red cheeks, the slightly moving lips. She looked beautiful and kind, I thought.