The Diary of a Young Girl_ The Definitive Edition - Anne Frank [82]
“Oh, your help is always welcome!”
“Maybe it’d be better for you to talk to Father. You can tell him anything, he won’t pass it on.”
“I know, he’s a real pal.”
“You like him a lot, don’t you?”
Peter nodded, and I continued, “Well, he likes you too, you know!”
He looked up quickly and blushed. It was really touching to see how happy these few words made him. “You think so?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. “You can tell from the little things he lets slip now and then.”
Then Mr. van Daan came in to do some dictating. Peter’s a “terrific guy,” just like Father!
Yours, Anne M. Frank
FRIDAY, MARCH 3, 1944
My dearest Kitty,
When I looked into the candle tonight, I felt calm and happy again. It seems Grandma is in that candle, and it’s Grandma who watches over and protects me and makes me feel happy again. But … there’s someone else who governs all my moods and that’s … Peter. I went to get the potatoes today, and while I was standing on the stairway with my pan full, he asked, “What did you do during the lunch break?”
I sat down on the stairs, and we began to talk. The potatoes didn’t make it to the kitchen until five-fifteen (an hour after I’d gone to get them). Peter didn’t say anything more about his parents; we just talked about books and about the past. Oh, he gazes at me with such warmth in his eyes; I don’t think it will take much for me to fall in love with him.
He brought the subject up this evening. I went to his room after peeling potatoes and remarked on how hot it was. “You can tell the temperature by looking at Margot and me, because we turn white when it’s cold and red when it’s hot,” I said.
“In love?” he asked.
“Why should I be in love?” It was a pretty silly answer (or, rather, question).
“Why not?” he said, and then it was time for dinner.
What did he mean? Today I finally managed to ask him whether my chatter bothered him. All he said was, “Oh, it’s fine with me!” I can’t tell how much of his reply was due to shyness.
Kitty, I sound like someone who’s in love and can talk about nothing but her dearest darling. And Peter is a darling. Will I ever be able to tell him that? Only if he thinks the same of me, but I’m the kind of person you have to treat with kid gloves, I know that all too well. And he likes to be left alone, so I don’t know how much he likes me. In any case, we’re getting to know each other a little better. I wish we dared to say more. But who knows, maybe that time will come sooner than I think! Once or twice a day he gives me a knowing glance, I wink back, and we’re both happy. It seems crazy to talk about his being happy, and yet I have the overwhelming feeling he thinks the same way I do.
Yours, Anne M. Frank
SATURDAY, MARCH 4, 1944
Dear Kitty,
This is the first Saturday in months that hasn’t been tiresome, dreary and boring. The reason is Peter. This morning as I was on my way to the attic to hang up my apron, Father asked whether I wanted to stay and practice my French, and I said yes. We spoke French together for a while and I explained something to Peter, and then we worked on our English. Father read aloud from Dickens, and I was in seventh heaven, since I was sitting on Father’s chair, close to Peter.
I went downstairs at quarter to eleven. When I went back up at eleven-thirty, Peter was already waiting for me on the stairs. We talked until quarter to one. Whenever I leave the room, for example after a meal, and Peter has a chance and no one else can hear, he says, “Bye, Anne, see you later.”
Oh, I’m so happy! I wonder if he’s going to fall in love with me after all? In any case, he’s a nice boy, and you have no idea how good it is to talk to him!
Mrs. van D. thinks it’s all right for me to talk to Peter, but today she asked me teasingly, “Can I trust you two up there?”
“Of course,” I protested. “I take that as an insult!” Morning, noon and night, I look forward to seeing Peter.
Yours, Anne M. Frank
PS. Before I forget, last night everything was blanketed in snow. Now it’s thawed and there’s almost nothing left.
MONDAY,