Pastel Orphans by Gemma Liviero Read Free Book Online

cost most of our savings.”
    “How do you know it is any better where you are heading?”
    “You know why,” says Mama angrily. “Are you deaf and blind?”
    “Of course not,” Hannah says, a little more softly and a little more sadly. “Every day we live in fear.” There is silence.
    “We have a house and my sister will be there to help with the children. Emmett wants this. There is no other option. I have to think of the children now. I will die before anything happens to them . . . before they are taken away.”
    I am worried. Who will take me and Greta away?
    Christmas is small, as if our apartment no longer has the space for it. Mama does not spend much time in the kitchen but she and Greta make some biscuits in the shape of Christmas trees. They ice them in pink, then sprinkle them with more icing sugar, which looks like snow.
    Mama says that our presents will come soon, that they have not had time to organize Christmas. Two of Mama’s friends come also. They are elderly.
    “Poor little lambs,” says one of the ladies, eyeing us constantly, as if there is something wrong with us, as if we have a condition that can’t be named.
    I wonder then if the reason we do not go out is that we have the same sickness as my father.
    For dinner, we have sauerkraut and baked fruit, and the pink biscuits, which taste quite bland.

C HAPTER 7
    1939
    Mama announces that we are going on a holiday to see her sister and we are taking a train. She has pulled out the suitcases from the hallway cupboard and wipes the dust from them.
    Greta says she doesn’t want to go, that she doesn’t like trains. I tell Greta that she is making that up just to be difficult.
    Mama helps each of us pack. We are leaving tomorrow, and it sounds exciting that we are travelling at night.
    It is the afternoon that we are leaving, and our suitcases are by the door. Mama is wearing her best suit and a smart hat.
    I am wearing my trousers, braces, a white shirt, a buttoned cardigan, and a coat, which is too short in the arms now, and my shoes are scuffed. Papa isn’t well enough to polish them.
    Mama calls us into the living room to tell us about the trip. She says we will travel through the night so we can sleep, and that we must not talk to anyone. She is looking mostly at Greta when she says this.
    “Riki, from now on, when we are out, or if someone asks you, you must introduce yourself as Henrik Klaus, not Riki Solomon, and you, Greta, are Greta Klaus. I want you to pretend you are actors in a moving picture.”
    I remember the identification cards and it makes sense now. Mama has been planning this trip. I don’t like this plan because I am remembering that I did not see Papa’s cards.
    “And what about Robin?”
    “Papa’s cousin and my friends will take turns looking after Papa and Robin. And on other days, Papa will look after Robin.”
    I know that Mama is lying, because Papa can’t get out of bed.
    “Why can’t Robin come?”
    “I doubt she would be happy to travel . . . and besides, Papa likes the company. It will be good for him.”
    “How long are we staying there?”
    “For a few months, possibly longer.”
    “But I thought it was just a holiday.”
    “It will be a long holiday.”
    “And Papa . . . when is he coming?” It has taken me a bit longer to ask this question because I fear the answer.
    “Your papa might join us later . . . I’m not sure when.”
    “No!” I say. “We can’t leave without Papa!”
    I run into the room to see him. Inside his room it is dark and I can hear his heavy breathing. Hannah is there also. I did not see her go in. She must have crept in during the night. Mama has followed me in.
    “Papa,” I say, “you have to get better quickly.” He lifts one eyelid but he doesn’t say anything. It is as if he doesn’t know me.
    “Come out, Henrik,” Mama says gently. “I want to explain.”
    Mama closes the door carefully so that it doesn’t make a sound.
    “Is it because