𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞; eugene roe ✔

PART ONE

The question was directed towards Emilia but Teo answered. "Not many."

There were only ten of us left, three being mothers to newborns and two recovering from pneumonia.

"We must all attend, then."

"Quite right."

I had another sip of coffee and stood, sauntering towards the balcony. A neighbour waved greetings - an elderly woman who knew little about the world's situation - and continued to pluck about a pot of roses. I leant over the stone parapet, looking towards the pathway which scaled down the mountains and onto the lake. A group of German officers wandered down, not a care to spare. Many were already splashing in the shore, taking for granted this peaceful time in the sun. Herr Meyer was there too, running to the officers already trekking the path.

"Barbarians." I said to myself - the word a phrase in my home language which seemed to fit perfectly as a description of the officers.

I caught sight of my wrists, how thin they had become in the last few months. Even with the decrease of women to feed, we still could never grab hold of enough food.

"Good day, my Lady."

I turned to my right, our other neighbour making their appearance. He was a young man, twenty or so, who couldn't join the forces because he was colourblind and needed a wheelchair to get around.

"Good morning, sir." I replied. "Are you well?"

"Yes, very well. Will I see you tonight?"

It was amusing, really. His very existence contradicted the Nazi's regime and yet the most important of men in the political party held him dear; he was the nephew of Herr Hitler's right-hand man and cousin.

"Shall you want me there?"

Teo beckoned for my return and I did, sparing a smile to both neighbours before vanishing back inside. Both of my friends were in states of laughter, gasping for air in their amusement. I exhaled and gave my orders: Emilia needed to round up the women and help them prepare for tonight, whilst Teo had to wake up Sascha and go with her to Herr Kiltmann's for tea.

"Don't forget that report, Emilia!" I shouted back as I exited the room.

I hurried through the thin corridor and up the stairs, giving salutations to each person I met with and waking those who still remained in slumber. Along the way, Monika, our youngest of infants, ran into my legs and fell backwards into a bundle of tears. I picked her up, and soon the tears stopped. When we reached my room, I put her on the bed. It wasn't the grandest of rooms; a bed, a desk and chair, a wardrobe. Above the desk, a mirror with names covering one side and the date in the bottom right hand corner. 1st May, 1945. I found my thumb reaching for one name in specific, the mother of Monika - Phoebe - who died a year ago today.

"There she is!"

Behind me, a woman apologised, taking the young girl off the bed and into her arms. She was the closest to Phoebe and had two children herself, Monika adopted as her third.

"It is all right, no harm done."

Upon their departure, I walked to the only window in the room, following the rumble of an engine. A jeep roared by; more officers.

Isn't there a war on? I thought. Why are all the officers here?

The evening came quicker than expected. Although the sun was falling behind the mountains, the temperature failed to resign. I ordered for the girls to wear light dresses - we didn't need any more sick with heat chills. Teo knocked on my door and, after my permission, advanced with a cup of coffee. Like every dusk before events like these, he added a shot of rum.