They said they would. Everything was taken up to the attic and sprayed, or so they said. In reality, they did nothing of the kind! They apparently think it’s easy to fool the Franks. Not one bit of spray; not one cloud of Flit.
Their latest excuse: The Flit would get into the food supplies!
Conclusion: It’s their fault we have fleas. We’re the ones that have to put up with the smell, the itch, the discomfort.
Mrs van D. can’t bear the stench at night. Mr van D. pretends to Flit, but brings the chairs, blankets, etc., back un-Flit. Let the Franks be bitten to death!
Friday, 6 August 1943
ONE PERSON GOES to get some newspapers; another, the knives (keeping the best for himself, of course); the third, the potatoes; and the fourth, the water.
Mr Dussel begins. He may not always peel them very well, but he does peel non-stop, glancing left and right to see if everyone is doing it the way he does. No, they’re not.
‘Look, Anne, I am taking peeler in my hand like so and going from top to bottom! Nein, not so…but so!’
‘I think my way is easier, Mr Dussel,’ I say tentatively.
‘But this is best way, Anne. This you can take from me. Of course, it is no matter, you do the way you want.’
We go on peeling. I glance at Dussel out of the corner of my eye. Lost in thought, he shakes his head (over me, no doubt), but says no more.
I keep on peeling. Then I look at Father, on the other side of me. To Father, peeling potatoes is not a chore, but precision work. When he reads, he has a deep wrinkle in the back of his head. But when he’s preparing potatoes, beans or vegetables, he seems to be totally absorbed in his task. He puts on his potato-peeling face, and when it’s set in that particular way, it would be impossible for him to turn out anything less than a perfectly peeled potato.
I keep on working. I glance up for a second, but that’s all the time I need. Mrs van D. is trying to attract Dussel’s attention. She starts by looking in his direction, but Dussel pretends not to notice. She winks, but Dussel goes on peeling. She laughs, but Dussel still doesn’t look up. Then Mother laughs too, but Dussel pays them no notice. Having failed to achieve her goal, Mrs van D. is obliged to change tactics. There’s a brief silence.
1 comment