Hidden Truths (Intertwined Souls Series Book 3) Read online

  Eva gazed at the photo of a smiling Zoe, together with Henry, Elena, Friedrich, and Earl, which sat on her desk. “I believe we will see them again.”

  “Ach, maybe one day.” Mrs. Fenstermacher patted Eva's hand and smiled. “Now, we live in the here and now so we have to make the best of it, yes?”

  “Yes.” Eva nodded and smiled.

  “I am going to go home and frame this newspaper. Even though I don't understand what it says, I know it talks about justice.”

  Eva folded the newspaper and handed it back to Mrs. Fenstermacher. She led her out of the office and down the corridor to the main waiting area.

  “Thank you, Eva.” Mrs. Fenstermacher clasped Eva’s hand and chuckled as Eva bent down. She gave Eva a kiss on the cheek and walked out of the building.

  “Mrs. F is happy?”

  Eva turned to Debbie Harrison, their receptionist, and smiled. “Fenstermacher.”

  “I can never say that name,” Debbie said.

  “Is Haralambos easier?”

  Debbie shook her head. “Not really. You should change your name to Smith. Did she come in for this?” She brought a copy of the newspaper to her.

  Eva looked down and nodded. “Gunther Koch was captured, and Mrs. Fenstermacher is overjoyed.”

  “He sounds like a proper bastard.” Debbie poked at the photo of the captured man.

  “Hmm.” Eva nodded and walked back into her office and closed the door.

  “A proper bastard,” she said and shook her head.

  Chapter Six

  Quiet. Peaceful. It was a lazy spring day and the jacaranda trees were in full bloom. Those descriptions ran through Zoe’s mind as she rode her motorcycle through the deserted street. The sound of the motorcycle and its sidecar made a rumbling noise, with the occasional engine splutter joining the throng of cicadas in the trees.

  The huge jacaranda trees that lined up on either side of the street created a canopy of purple and Zoe gleefully glanced up and laughed with joy. This was her favorite time of the year. Not too hot or too cold, but just so perfect.

  Legacy Road was one of Zoe’s favorite routes on her way home. The artist in her marveled at the color, the aroma, and the beautiful vista of the trees. Riding Mabel, her motorcycle, after her accident was sheer unadulterated joy.

  This was the day Zoe would ride Mabel for the last time. It was the road when she had her accident, and when she passed the spot where she had collided with the car, she threw back her head and roared to the heavens as she sped off.

  This was her redemption; her way to prove to herself that she could do it. Eva had been apprehensive, but she hadn’t tried to dissuade her. Now that she had achieved what she set out to do, Zoe would honor the promise she had made to Eva that she would no longer ride Mabel.

  The old motorcycle rounded a bend and went into a cul-de-sac which was also lined with jacaranda trees. At the end of the cul-de-sac was her oasis. Zoe maneuvered the motorcycle up a grassy driveway, past the postman who was delivering mail next door.

  Zoe practically jumped off the seat, then took off her leather helmet and shook her long red hair. She ran her fingers through it a few times in a useless attempt to bring order to chaos.

  She jogged up to the gate, leaned on it, and waited for the postman to approach. “Good afternoon, Mr. Smith, anything for us?”

  “You're going to kill yourself on that thing one day,” Mr. Smith replied, the same comment he made every time he saw Zoe on the motorcycle.

  “Nah, Mabel is not going to kill me.” Zoe looked back fondly at the old motorcycle. “Speeding cars will kill me,” she muttered under her breath.

  “I don't know, young lady, the way you zoom about on that thing...”

  “Mr. Smith, you worry too much.”

  Mr. Smith grumbled good-naturedly and handed Zoe two letters. “You be careful now.”

  “I will.” Zoe watched Mr. Smith walk back down the sidewalk to continue his route.

  As she walked the sandstone-paved walkway to the front steps, she patted her jacket to see if she had the house keys.

  She stopped to admire the jasmine that Eva had planted near the steps leading up to the house. The climber was steadily growing and was soon going to wind itself around the wooden porch. With its two large jacaranda trees and the beautiful garden in the front, she loved the house that was nestled away from the road. It had a lot of character. She wasn’t sure what that meant, but that’s what the real estate agent had told them.

  Zoe glanced at the letters in her hand. The familiar handwritten address on the top letter was going to please Eva. Eva’s father, Panayiotis Haralambos, had recently returned back to Greece due to his deteriorating health.

  Eva was heartbroken to find out that her father was going back to Greece, but in the end they both knew it was for the best. Father Haralambos wanted to live in Greece even though his only daughter was thousands of miles away. His health overruled his heart.

  Zoe stared at the other envelope for a long moment. She recognized the handwriting and was very aware of the contents. She sighed deeply and shook her head as she walked up the stairs of the house. She was met by Ourania, her blue-eyed, black-and-white cat, sprawled out on the welcome mat.

  “Well, aren’t we lazy?”

  Zoe went down on her haunches and scratched Ourania’s belly. She laughed when Ourania rolled and offered her more of the furry belly in response.

  “I want to come back in the next life as a cat, Ourania. You have got it way too easy.”

  The cat meowed and curled back up, leaving a very bemused Zoe to gingerly step over her and enter the house. She dropped her keys on the small table in the hallway, then took her jacket off and placed it on a hook near the door. She dropped the letters on the side table near the front door. She looked down to find that Ourania had come inside and was rubbing against her leg.

  “Ourania, I’ve got work to do,” she said.

  Ourania totally ignored her.

  Zoe went to the bedroom and hummed to herself as she replaced her shirt with her painting shirt—one of Eva’s shirts that Zoe had taken to paint in. It was overly large for her small frame, but she loved the baby blue color. Eva called it the splodge shirt because it had every color in the rainbow.

  “She’s just jealous, isn’t she, Ourania?”

  Ourania was sprawled on the bed.

  “Just because I stole it from her...” Zoe turned towards the door at the footsteps on the floorboards. “Hello there.”

  Elena appeared in the doorway. “Was that Mabel I heard rumbling down the street?”

  “You could hear that?”

  Elena put her hands on her hips. “You can hear that motorcycle all the way across the harbor.”

  “Well, now you are just exaggerating. She’s not that loud.”

  “I also heard your hollering.”

  Zoe grinned. “I was happy.”

  “What? But...”

  “Yes, yes, yes, Mother hen.” Zoe waved her hand. “I know, but I had to do it.”

  “No, you didn’t. What about Eva?”

  “Eva knows what I was going to do today. It’s done and now Mabel can be retired. Stay calm and don’t try to get excited or the baby will come.”

  “Oh, no, that is what I want to happen. I’m very ready to have this baby.” Elena put her hands on her belly and smiled down, and then she sighed and exhaled slowly. She looked back up at Zoe, who was smiling.

  “You look beautiful,” Zoe said.

  Elena looked back at her in disbelief.

  “You do, El. You look beautiful.”

  “I'm bloated like a whale.”

  “Whales aren't bloated,” Zoe replied with a small smile.

  “Okay. I'm bloated like a puffer fish,” Elena amended.

  Zoe nibbled her lip and then shook her head. “No, you don't look like a puffer fish either.” She knelt beside Elena. “You look radiant. You're tired from carrying Baby No Name. This too shall pass.”

  E
lena scowled. “You have no idea what this is like.”

  “No, I don't,” Zoe replied quietly and took Elena's hand. “But I know what I see and I can see a woman who is going to give birth to a beautiful baby girl...”

  “You're going to be changing nappies for this little girl.” Elena smiled.

  “I'm up to the task and so is Eva.” Zoe smiled.

  “Does Eva know?”

  “Of course.” Zoe giggled. “We both will.”

  “And babysit?”

  “Absolutely.” Zoe nodded. “Eva even wants early morning feedings.”

  Elena laughed and ruffled Zoe's hair. “You are good for me, Zo.”

  “Of course I am.” Zoe chuckled. “It's in the contract I signed.”

  “Don't ever change, my friend.” Elena crooked her finger, and Zoe rose a little to get a kiss on the cheek. “So, what were you doing speeding down Legacy?”

  “Thought I had distracted you.”

  “What would have happened if you had had an accident?”

  “I didn’t. I wanted a last ride and that’s it.”

  “Was Eva drunk when she agreed to that?”

  “No. Eva knows I needed to do this,” she said as they left the bedroom.

  Zoe opened the door to the room at the front of the house and ushered Elena through the doorway. The room was Zoe’s special project. Eva called it their Journey Room. The room was bathed in sunlight that streamed through the white lace curtains over two ornate windows and fell upon a mural of Sydney Harbour with a passenger liner in the dock, which took pride of place between two other murals. On the left was a The Brandenburg Gate, Berlin’s landmark icon, set against a blue sky. On the right was Athena’s Bluff overlooking the valley below and Mount Ossa in Larissa.

  A long, murky orange sofa was in the middle of the room. The color didn’t fit into the decor and stood out, but the sofa had sentimental value. A side table stood nearby and an orange-colored flokati rug lay in front of the sofa.

  “That sofa makes my eyes ache,” Elena teased as she stood in front of the Germany mural. “I still can’t believe you dyed that beautiful white flokati rug into the murky color.”

  “Well, I wanted it to match the sofa.”

  “It’s a waste of a beautiful rug.” Elena turned to the artwork of the Brandenburg Gate. “This is beautiful. Your attention to detail is incredible.”

  Elena then turned to the next panel, which depicted Sydney Harbour with the docked ocean liner. “I like how you centered this image and had the sun shine on it.”

  Zoe grinned. “That was Eva’s idea. She said that the light was shining where it should.”

  Elena turned and smiled at Zoe. “Very poetic.” She stood in front of the Greek mural. “This is an odd scene to paint. I was wondering what it meant when you were painting it.”

  Zoe went to the painting of Athena’s Bluff and put her hand on the rustic cabin that lay meters from the cliff face. “That’s my brother’s house, or it would have been had he not died.”

  “This was Thieri's cabin, right?”

  “Yes. He died during the battle with the Italians.”

  “So is that your property now?”

  “Hmm. Yes. It's just a simple cabin.”

  “Why this cliff face? Why didn’t you paint the Acropolis?”

  Zoe gazed at the vista for a moment. “This is the place where Evy told me she loved me.” She felt herself blush a little. She turned to find Elena smiling at her.

  “That’s romantic.”

  “That’s Mount Ossa.” Zoe pointed to the mountain. “I would sit on Athena’s Bluff for hours and wonder what was beyond the mountain. What adventures I could have, what art I would find.”

  “You found out.”

  “The hard way,” Zoe replied quietly and raised herself on her toes to look closer at the top of the mountain, but the artwork was taller than she was. “I’ll get Eva to redo that bit of the mountain,” she muttered. She turned to Elena, who was looking at her with some amusement. “Eva had to paint the top of the mountain. I couldn’t reach it without stepping on a ladder. She was a little overprotective after the accident.”

  “A little?”

  “Well, a lot,” Zoe amended. “I think she’s at the point where she doesn’t wake up every time I move.”

  “She’s very sensitive, isn’t she?” Elena asked and sat down on the creaky sofa.

  Zoe stood in front of the mural for a long moment, not looking at the painting. Her mind went back to 1942 and the constant animosity she held for the German major’s daughter. “Eva is very sensitive. Sometimes I think she can read my thoughts with the way she acts.”

  She sat down on the floor and brought her knees up against her chest while she rested her back against the wall that had the mural of Athena’s Bluff.

  “I used to make her so angry.” Zoe frowned and looked up to meet Elena’s inquisitive eyes. “I couldn’t kill her so I figured I would hurt her with my words.”

  “You were enemies. It wasn’t as if she was your best friend.”

  “I was provoking her, really trying to niggle her into showing some emotion.” Zoe sighed. “I thought she was a cold bitch.”

  “Eva is a master at being that.”

  Zoe flashed a look of irritation at the unexpected response.

  “I mean she looks and behaves aloof, not the bitch part,” Elena added quickly.

  Zoe pursed her lips and shook her head. “What you think is coldness is just shyness. She’s not cold or aloof.”

  “It’s a little difficult to know with her, Zo.”

  Zoe let her head rest back against the wall and closed her eyes. “I was her maid and I would help her bathe and other duties. One day I heard that the Resistance had succeeded in blowing up the train lines again. Every time they blew them up, the Germans would rebuild them. This time Muller rounded up some villagers just outside of Larissa and shot them.” She stopped for a moment. “That morning I was helping Eva bathe. I was mouthing off and I was rough with her.” She wiped the tears that had tracked down her cheeks. “She was in such poor health, but I didn’t care.”

  “Zoe...”

  “No, it wasn't right, El.” Zoe held up a hand. “I was the one being a bitch. Eva was helping the Resistance, but that didn’t matter to me that morning. I hurt her with my words. She didn’t say anything; just endured it. I kept at it for most of the morning. Eva was trying really hard not to let my words get to her, but they hurt her.”

  “She had her aloof face on?”

  Zoe nodded. “The angrier I got, the calmer and quieter she got, until she couldn’t take it anymore.” She glanced up and sighed. “When I stopped my tirade to catch my second wind, I saw that Eva’s hands were white-knuckled balled-up fists.”

  “She exploded?”

  “Yes. She dropped the facade that my words were not affecting her and screamed at me. I didn’t understand a word she was saying, because she was speaking so rapidly in German, and I was shocked into silence. A part of me was transfixed by the sight of this woman losing complete control and screaming at me. Good thing no one was in the house at the time or else I think we would have had all the guards come up and shoot me.”

  “Isn’t that what you wanted, for Eva to lose control?”

  “Yes, but not like that. I wanted to see some emotion; something to make me think she had a heart.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Eva didn’t have any control over her life,” Zoe said. “She had nothing. Her stepfather had her watched, and the villagers hated her. She couldn’t go outside without armed guards. She wore this ugly hooded black cloak everywhere she went.”

  “She still wears it.”

  Zoe sighed. “Yes,” she said. She still wears that thing, but I’m not going to make her stop. She needs it.

  The two friends were silent for a few minutes until Zoe looked up at Elena. “Eva is not an easy person to get to know, El. Don’t judge her because she looks like a cold bitch. She isn’t.”<
br />
  “I didn’t say she was a cold bitch.”

  “She is protecting herself. That cloak she wears…it only makes her stand out more. She’s over six feet and that made her stand out as well. In Larissa, everyone knew who the woman in the black cloak was. They didn’t need to see her. They called her ‘The Hooded Nazi’ amongst other taunts. Not many tall women in Larissa.”

  “What did you call her?”

  Zoe looked up for a moment. “I called her a cripple bitch.”

  “You called her a cripple? To her face?”

  “I didn’t care. The last thing I cared about was her feelings. She had to endure this for three years from the villagers. Then there was me. She had to endure my hatred all the while she was risking her life by helping the Resistance and Father H.”

  “That would be impossible to deal with.”

  “She did it, and I never let go of the idea of killing her, so she must have worried that one day I was going to carry out my threat. I said it often enough.”

  “What did she do once she stopped her tirade against you?”

  “She cried and told me she was tired of all the hatred directed at her. She thought I was her friend and all I did was make her angry.” Zoe’s voice caught. “I barely stopped myself from blurting out that I wasn’t her friend and what I really wanted to do was kill her.”

  “You didn’t…”

  “No, I didn’t blurt it out.” Zoe shrugged. “I told her to stop crying because cold heartless Nazis didn’t cry.”

  “What did she say to that?”

  “She said she wasn’t a cold heartless Nazi.” Zoe grimaced. “She then put on that stupid cloak and walked out into the midday heat to get away from me.”

  “How long was that before she told you how she felt about you?”