L A D I E S '   C O L L E G E

   That was a huge shock for me and it was impossible for him to go on reading, and then he immediately put the paper away and went off. A girl said to me, “Come on, we’ll go to see the form mistress.” She hugged me and I was really worried because she wore velvet things in the evenings and I knew that tears don’t look good on velvet. She tried to comfort me and in the teachers’ room they wondered what to do. Miss Vickers, who was the younger children’s teacher there, said, “My parents live in Tonbridge. Would you perhaps like to go to their house while the authorities check your papers? You’re sure to come back to us and keep going until you do your A-levels.” So then I said, “Yes please.” Next day I went to the police station and gave that address and the policeman, not the same one, a different one, said, “I’m sorry Liesl, but it is not 30 miles, it is only 28.” More tears. Then I gave the address of my uncle, not a real uncle, but a family friend, Julius Altschüler, who lived in London and who was my financial guarantee-giver. Then I lost my voice.

   In the next morning I ordered a taxi and waved goodbye and came to London. And I got my voice back. I didn’t want to be a real schoolgirl anywhere else.
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