The Footsteps of Anne Frank by Ernst Schnabel

Author:Ernst Schnabel
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781904915393
Publisher: Oldcastle Books
Published: 2014-06-05T00:00:00+00:00

Mr Koophuis also knew. He recalls a time during the noon hour when he had just had some sort of business vexation with Mr van Daan, and as he was about to go Mr van Daan asked whether he could not obtain cigarettes for him. Cigarettes were very hard to get at the time.

Anne had been sitting at the table, doing her homework. Suddenly she said:

“These people are already doing so much for us as it is. Do forget about the smoking, Mr van Daan. Otherwise Mr Koophuis will have to go trotting through half the town on your account.”

The reproof hit home only too well, and van Daan left the room. Koophuis was about to leave, too. The incident had spoiled his temper. Suddenly Anne came to the door and said:

“Do you have a little time around four o’clock? Just a little.”

Koophuis looked questioningly at her.

“I’ve put aside a cup of coffee for you. And I’d like to read a story to you.”

Mr Koophuis came at four and Anne showed him her story, Katrientje.

“Of course we tried to keep in mind how hard it was for the child,” Mr Koophuis says. “She was hungering for the world outside, for life with other children, and when my wife came up Anne would greet her with an almost unpleasant curiosity. She would ask about Corrie, our daughter. She wanted to know what Corrie was doing, what boy friends she had, what was happening at the hockey club, whether Corrie had fallen in love. And as she asked she would stand there, thin, in her washed-out clothes, her face snow-white, for they all had not been out of doors for so long. My wife would always bring something for her, a pair of sandals or a piece of cloth; but coupons were so scarce and we did not have enough money to buy on the black market. It would have been so nice if we could have brought her a letter from Corrie occasionally, but Corrie was not allowed to know that the Franks weren’t abroad, as everyone thought, but were still in Amsterdam. We did not want to burden her with this almost unendurable secret.

“But then something happened.

“It was in November 1942, on Peter’s birthday. We were all upstairs sitting over the birthday coffee, and we men were bent over a map of the theatres of war, discussing where the Allies would venture their first landing. I said in Spain, and Mr Frank said in Africa first. But Mr van Daan said: ‘They will never land. They aren’t coming…’

“Next morning I was still abed when I suddenly heard on the English radio that they had landed in Africa. And I called out to my wife, who was in the next room: ‘There, you see, Mr Frank was right after all yesterday. They’ve landed in Africa.’

“Suddenly I saw my wife at the door. She gestured to me to be quiet, and pointed to Corrie’s open door.

“A few days later, at the table Corrie was telling a story about school.

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