Chapter 7

It’s Friday, December 21. Liza cycles home from school. Will Aunt Liesbeth and Uncle Sander already be there with Leonora and Tim? She’s looking forward to the weeks ahead. Aunt Liesbeth is a friend of Liza’s mother, though they don’t see each other very often. Since their wedding day, Aunt Liesbeth and Uncle Sander have lived in Switzerland. One year, they come to Gouda; the next year, Liza travels with her parents and brother to the mountains during the summer. It’s already been a year and a half since Liza last saw them. She’s very curious to see whether Leonora is still the shy girl with the long, straight blond hair she remembers. As shy as Leonora was back then, they talked endlessly.

Late last night, Liza rearranged her room so Leonora could sleep there. Uncle Sander and Aunt Liesbeth will stay in the guest room upstairs, and Tim will sleep in the attic with Pierre. Pierre wasn’t thrilled about sharing his space with a little boy barely ten years old, but he understood there was no other option. Besides, the attic is large enough, and he’s set up a sleeping spot for Tim as far away from his own bed as possible. That way, Tim won’t wake up if Pierre comes home late.

This time, Liza cycles home via the Zeugstraat. In recent months, some lovely little shops have opened there. She resolves to spend a morning shopping here with Leonora. She glances into the Willem Vroesen Garden but doesn’t see anyone. It’s far too cold to wander around outside anyway.

Through the bare branches of the shrubs, she spots a taxi pulling up in front of their house. The doors swing open, and people step out. There they are, Liza thinks with delight. Wow—let the holiday week begin! The door of the sexton’s house flies open, and Mom steps outside, wrapping Aunt Liesbeth in a warm embrace. She quickly pulls her indoors, into the warmth. Tim runs in after them. Uncle Sander pays the driver and hauls a suitcase inside.

“Hi!” Liza calls out to Leonora, who is lifting a suitcase from the taxi as well. Liza parks her bike against the shed door and walks over. “Did you have a good trip?” she asks Uncle Sander.

“Sure did,” he says, pulling her briefly into a hug. “My goodness, you’ve grown so much. How are you doing?”

“Really well,” she says, laughing. She’s happy their friends are here. Then she looks at Leonora, who has just set a suitcase down in the hallway and is reaching for the next bag. Liza sees a tall, slender girl with short-cut blonde hair, hanging straight and slanted across her eyes. Leonora looks at Liza and says, “Hi.”

She’s changed so much, Liza thinks—though maybe it only seems that way. She used to look cheerful all the time. Now there’s an angry look in her eyes, and her face seems dissatisfied.

“You must be tired after such a long trip,” Liza says. “Shall I help you with the luggage?”

Uncle Sander pulls the last bag from the taxi, nods goodbye to the driver, and carries it inside.

“I’ll just put my bike in the shed.” Liza is back quickly and steps into the hallway. It has turned cold inside. She shivers.

“Can you help me with the coffee for a moment?” Mom calls from the kitchen. Liza hangs up her coat and sets the cups on the tray. Meanwhile, Mom takes the almond letter Liza brought home from the bakery the night before out of the oven and cuts it into pieces.

The warmth of the fireplace from the living room drifts into the kitchen. Lovely, Liza thinks, this is just wonderful. She enjoys having visitors and looks forward to all the fun things they’ll be doing together during the holidays. Tim dances into the kitchen.

“Shall I already bring some goodies into the living room?” he asks, with his German accent. Liza laughs.

“That works out nicely—having a helper like you,” she says appreciatively. She pats his blond hair. “I think you’ve been eating a lot lately.”

He looks at her, puzzled.
“I mean,” Liza explains, “you’ve grown a kilometre.”

Tim grins proudly. “Feel this,” he says, holding his arm up at a right angle. Liza squeezes his bicep.

“Wow—with you around, I’d dare walk down the street in the dark.”

“Is it dangerous here at night?” Tim asks, slightly alarmed.

“It’s really not so bad,” Liza says. “Just don’t let anyone see that you’re scared.”

“Huh,” Tim says, “I’m really not scared at all.” Liza smiles at the boy, with his big talk and his small, tender heart. Together they walk into the living room with the coffee and the almond letter.

“Hi, Liza,” Aunt Liesbeth greets her. She gets up from the couch and hugs her. “How are you?”
“Good,” Liza says, a little shyly. All at once, she doesn’t quite know what to do with herself. Leonora slouches in the corner of the couch, silent. Liza notices how thin she is. She’s wearing a black skirt, and beneath it, Liza sees spindly legs in black tights. She wears black high-heeled boots, and her dark purple sweater—aside from the colour—is really not suitable for this winter weather. Her eyes are heavily lined in black, and her face looks pale. She wouldn’t be…, Liza suddenly thinks in alarm.

Meanwhile, Mom has handed out the coffee and the almond letter, and Liza walks over to the chair by the window. Her gaze falls on a figure walking by, wearing a Santa hat. Carefully, she lifts her hand in a small wave. She can’t prevent Tim, who’s sitting in the other chair by the window, from noticing.

“Who’s that?” he asks curiously.
“Oh,” she says softly, so no one else will hear. “That’s a friend of mine. He’s homeless.” At the same time, she presses a finger to her lips to signal that he shouldn’t say anything more.
“Does he live on the street?” Tim whispers, worried. Liza nods.
“Then he must be hungry,” he says. Immediately, he gets up and casually says to Leonora, “You don’t want your almond letter, do you?” Leonora shakes her head. As he passes by, Tim takes her piece of the letter from her saucer and heads for the door.

Liza’s heart pounds. She hears the front door open and sees Tim step outside. He runs after Antonio, tugs at his coat, and hands him the almond letter. Then he hurries back and gently pulls the door closed behind him. Liza hears him go into the bathroom. When he comes back into the room, he grins at her and drops down onto the chair beside her.

“He says hi,” he whispers.

Liza smiles and pretends nothing has happened. She feels Leonora’s gaze and, when she looks back at her, sees that Leonora has guessed what Tim did. Her expression is somewhere between disapproving and approving.

Then Aunt Liesbeth stands up. “You won’t mind if I lie down for half an hour, will you? I want to be fit tonight for Liza’s performance,” she says, glancing at Liza.

Mom gets up as well. “Of course, we’re not twenty anymore.” They both burst out laughing.

“Do you remember when we were twenty?” Aunt Liesbeth says, and laughing, they walk down the hall, each carrying a suitcase upstairs.

“Well, this holiday could turn out to be real fun,” Leonora mutters, nodding toward the door. Liza, who had been laughing along with her mother and aunt, looks at her in surprise.

“Let me give you a tip,” Uncle Sander says. “If you all manage to have as much fun this holiday as those two old ladies, we’ll all be just fine.”
Liza thinks it’s a great idea. Tim does too. He hooks his arm through Liza’s. “Am I allowed to laugh too?” he asks hopefully.

“The more, the better,” she replies, pointedly ignoring Leonora’s pout.
“Shall we put your suitcase in my room?” Liza asks her. It won’t be easy to cheer her up, she realizes. “I’m going to practise a bit for tonight.”

“Can I listen?” Tim pipes up immediately.

“Of course,” Liza agrees. “I’ll just grab my violin. Is it okay if I practise here?” she asks Uncle Sander.

“Sure,” he answers absently. He’s taken a book from the shelf and is completely absorbed in it. A pair of reading glasses balances comically on the tip of his nose. He scratches his grey stubble, pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, blows his nose, and—while holding the book open with his elbow—tries to keep reading.

Liza sits down on the ottoman by the fireplace and begins to play. Meanwhile, Tim runs his fingers along the garland on the mantel. Suddenly, he’s holding a little Santa figurine.

“Oh,” he says, startled, “now it’s broken.”

Liza stops playing and looks at what Tim is doing.
“Just keep it,” she says, and continues playing.

“Idiot,” Leonora mutters softly at him. “Clumsy, don’t go poking your fingers in everything.”
Tim sticks out his tongue at her and hangs the little Santa by its loop from a button on his sweater.

Liza keeps playing, paying no attention to their squabbling. Then she suddenly stops.

“I’ll practise some more tonight,” she murmurs. “Shall we go unpack your suitcase?” she asks Leonora.

Leonora gets up, bored.
“Okay,” she says flatly, wobbling after Liza on her high stiletto heels.

Where has my old friend gone? Liza thinks sadly. How am I supposed to fix this?
She decides to ask Leonora straight out.

“Do you like staying here for a while?” she asks after they’ve closed the bedroom door behind them.

“I’d rather have stayed with my friends in Basel,” Leonora admits. “All this Christmas stuff is a total flop.”

“There is a lot of celebrating without much meaning,” Liza agrees.

“I don’t think Christmas has any meaning at all,” Leonora says sulkily.

So that’s it, Liza thinks. “Are you gothic?” she asks.

“Well, not exactly, but my friends are. It’s kind of interesting to explore it,” Leonora says.
Liza shivers inwardly. She searches for something to say that might change her friend’s mind, but nothing comes to her.

“Tonight is the school Christmas concert. I’m playing a piece by Pavarotti. I’m actually quite nervous,” she says, steering the conversation in a different direction.

“Whatever you like,” Leonora shrugs. “It wouldn’t be for me.”

“But you’ll come and listen, right?” Liza asks anxiously. She can already picture it: everyone in the warmly lit church, and Leonora sitting alone at home by the dying fire.

“Oh yes,” Leonora says listlessly. “I won’t spoil things, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I was just thinking it wouldn’t be nice for you to stay home alone. The church is cozy and beautiful.” Liza opens the door of her linen closet. “You can hang your clothes in here—there’s plenty of room.”

Leonora hasn’t brought much with her, and soon they’re done unpacking her suitcase.

“Shall we go take a look at the church for a bit? My music class is rehearsing for tonight.” They bundle up warmly, because the church is cold as well.

“Bye, Mom,” Liza calls. “We’re just going across the street for a bit.”

“Okay, have fun!” comes the reply from the kitchen.

“Can I come too?” Tim calls from the living room. He’s lying on his stomach in front of the fire, making his little Santa perform all kinds of tricks.

“Come on, then,” Liza says, and in no time, he’s dressed and ready to go. He dances and jumps around the girls. For him, this vacation is one big celebration.

“On Boxing Day⁽¹⁾,” Liza tells him, “there’s something really fun for kids at the church. I’m helping out too, and I’ll ask if you can join.”

“What are we going to do?” he asks eagerly.

“That’s a surprise.”

But Tim doesn’t like surprises. He dances and jumps even harder and tugs at Liza’s arm. She laughs. How wonderful it is to have a little brother like this.

Leonora feels quite differently. Her face is still dark with displeasure. “Stop it already,” she snaps angrily at Tim. “You’re driving us crazy.”

Liza takes Tim by the hand and walks toward the door of the shop.

“The only thing I’ll tell you,” she says, “is that you’ll get to dress up.”

“That’s awesome,” Tim says enthusiastically. “I’ll go as a ghost and scare everyone half to death.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” his sister says. “Do you really think you’re allowed to come to church dressed as a ghost?”

“No, that’s probably not the idea,” Liza says, “but we’ll see what costumes are left and what you can wear.”

Tim doesn’t mind at all and skips along into the church. A jumble of sounds from different instruments drifts toward them. In the choir area, a group of students from the school stands together. Liza greets them and pauses to listen to the music. Then Gerard walks up to them.

“I’ll quit for a moment,” he announces. “Is that your friend from Switzerland?” he asks Liza.

“Yes,” Liza nods. “This is Leonora. Leonora, this is Gerard. He’s in my homeroom class.”

The two size each other up. Gerard smiles disarmingly and runs a hand through his blond curls. A shy smile appears on Leonora’s face.

Thankfully, Liza thinks. Maybe she’s starting to thaw.

She gives Gerard a grateful look, but he has already launched into an explanation for Leonora about how the evening will unfold. Liza is fine with that and walks a little way off with Tim, circling around the outside of the choir. Tim is still skipping, and Liza tries to tell him something about the stained-glass windows. He looks where she points, but she suspects not much of it is sinking in.

They come back into the choir area from the other side. Gerard and Leonora are still standing in the same spot and seem to be getting along well. Leonora has even gained a bit of colour in her pale cheeks. Then Mr. Noot comes up to Gerard and asks if he can play along again for a moment. Gerard apologizes, gestures toward Liza and Tim, and returns to his place.

Leonora crosses straight through the choir and joins her friend and little brother.

“Nice guy,” she says softly to Liza.

Liza nods. “Tomorrow he’ll be at the market,” Liza says. “Maybe you could ask my mom if you can go buy cheese for her. Tim would probably like to come along.”
Leonora nods and buries herself deeper into the black fur of her collar. Her toes feel like ice, but she ignores the cold.

“Come on, let’s go home,” Liza says when she notices how cold Leonora is. “We’ll hear the rest tonight. But make sure you dress warmly,” she advises.

They leave the choir area and quietly slip out through the shop door, down the little staircase, and outside.

“Ahh,” Liza sighs as she sinks into a chair by the fireplace at home. “After tonight, my Christmas break finally starts. Wonderful.”

“I’m already on holiday,” Tim says. “Since yesterday.”

“There’s always someone who has it better,” Liza replies with a grin.

She practises on her violin for a while longer, then sets it aside.
“I’m really stopping now. If I can’t play it properly by now, it won’t suddenly work before eight o’clock either.”

“You’re absolutely right, my girl,” Uncle Sander says. “Just enjoy your holiday for a bit. That’s what I’m doing too.”

“What kind of work do you do in Switzerland, actually?” Liza asks curiously.

“Oh,” he says evasively, “I dabble a bit in banking.”

Immediately, Liza pictures endless rows of numbers in her mind. She shudders at the thought of spending her entire life dealing with that. Affectionately, she looks at her glossy brown violin. That’s much better, she thinks.

---

With her violin case and sheet music in hand, Liza steps out at half past seven and enters the church. Her eyes wander across the vast space, along the columns that hold up the high ceiling, past the tall pews where visitors are slowly trickling in, searching for a seat. She doesn’t see Antonio anywhere.

Liza joins the music students in the choir. There’s a warm, tense energy in the air. Hanneke approaches her. “Good luck,” she says. “I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“Thanks, I really need that right now. I’m starting to feel a little shaky.”

“Oh no,” Hanneke says anxiously. “You probably think I’m silly for leaving you here all alone.”

“No, not at all,” Liza laughs. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.” She isn’t completely sure, but she decides she won’t let her nerves get the better of her. And anyway, she knows she’s far better than almost anyone else in the church tonight. Few can match her skill.

By eight o’clock, the nave is nearly full, and people are still arriving. The musicians wait in the choir until the school principal officially opens the event. They walk around the towering pews of the nave while playing and climb the steps under the organ. A thunderous round of applause greets them. Mr. Noot gives a brief introduction to the pieces they’ll perform and announces the first one. Silence falls as he lifts his conductor’s baton, and the first notes ring out. Beautiful sounds ripple through the centuries-old church. The audience listens, some with eyes closed, others swaying gently with the music.

Then the moment arrives for Liza to perform. Her heart races as she steps forward, struggling to calm her trembling hands. She carefully places her sheet music on the stand. Her violin rests on her shoulder, and the first notes flow from her instrument. The glow of the grand chandeliers softens, and now she stands alone in the spotlight. Liza focuses entirely on her music. The people in the church fade into the background. She becomes one with the melody of Pavarotti, as if the music pours straight from her heart, every breath and every emotion translating into sound. The nerves fall away; the cold of the church, the light, the packed pews—all disappear. There is only the violin, her moving body, and a deep calm that envelops her. The tension in her shoulders melts, her breathing steady. It’s as if the world around her dissolves and only the melody remains. She feels carried by the music, free and vulnerable all at once, as if she can be fully herself for a moment, speaking what words cannot convey.

Before she knows it, the final notes sound. The piece ends. Reality rushes back with a roar of applause. She must bow, bow, as the clapping continues unabated. Then she has had enough and turns to return to her seat. A soft murmur spreads through the church, but Liza pays it no mind. She’s happy with her performance. Holiday thoughts flit through her mind—she finally has a break—but she pushes them away. Strange that this thought comes now, after all the tension and anticipation leading up to her performance.

Relieved, she looks at her neighbour.
“You were really good,” she whispers in Liza’s ear.

“Thank you,” Liza whispers back. She glances cautiously across the church. Could Antonio be here? She has to join in with the others, so there’s no time to look further. Liza enjoys the rest of the evening making music together. Now that she’s no longer the sole focus, the tension has lifted.

“You were fantastic,” Mr. Noot praises her at the end of the evening. “It seemed like you’ve performed on stage many times before.” Liza smiles.

“Maybe I have,” she says mysteriously.

Across the wide aisle between the high pews, Antonio approaches. She’s thrilled—he came after all. He gives a small bow and offers his hand.

“Congratulations on your beautiful performance. Have you been on stage before?” Liza feels her cheeks warm.

“That’s what I was wondering too,” says Mr. Noot.

“It’s true,” Liza can’t help but admit.

“Tell us more,” Mr. Noot urges.

“Well,” Liza begins, “it was dark, and I didn’t have an audience. So it wasn’t very difficult.”

“No audience?” Antonio asks.

“Okay, okay, almost no audience,” Liza concedes.

Mr. Noot laughs. “I think you two have a little secret. I’m very curious, but I won’t ask any more.” Laughing, he turns to check on the other students.

“Glad you came,” Liza says to Antonio.

“My dear, I never let beautiful moments pass me by,” he replies.

They are pulled from their conversation by Tim. “I was so nervous,” he says to Liza, “but I knew you wouldn’t make a mistake.”

“Someone else with limitless faith in you,” Antonio remarks. Liza wraps an arm around Tim and pulls him close.

“And me?” Antonio pouts softly, so Tim won’t hear.

“Another time,” Liza ventures, immediately feeling her cheeks burn bright red. She quickly turns and walks over to a few classmates to say hello. Mr. Noot invites her to drop by during the holidays.

“But not alone, okay? You know what I mean,” he says with a nod toward Antonio, who’s still standing nearby.

“I’ll ask him when I see him again,” she says hesitantly. She goes looking for Leonora and spots Gerard’s blond head over the edge of the choir—no surprise that she finds her there.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Tim asks his sister later, when they’re standing in front of the sexton’s house. He doesn’t wait for an answer; Leonora’s eyes look much brighter than they did earlier, when they arrived in Gouda.

“Nice vacation, huh?” he adds, giving her a happy look. Then he slips inside and plops down in front of the fireplace.

“This is what I call a wonderful vacation, Mom,” he says, satisfied. His mother laughs.

“The vacation has only just begun, young man. Anything could still happen,” she says.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “lots of fun stuff.”

“And one of those fun things is you getting to bed as soon as possible, little man,” growls his father, playfully grabbing him by the clothes and lifting him up. Tim bursts out laughing. He loves rough-and-tumble games. Liza’s mother gives him a little something to drink and eat, and then his father takes him to bed.

“Now it’s really vacation,” Liza sighs. “Wonderful—finally a break from all the studying and biking to school.”

Her father laughs. “I mean,” he says mock-seriously, “you’re only biking ten minutes each way every day? That’s what’s wearing you out?”

“No, Dad. I’m terribly exhausted from having to bike over to those ‘cute’ teachers,” she says with a grin.

“Do you have any unpleasant teachers?” Leonora asks.

“No, some are nicer than others, but they’re all pretty good,” Liza replies.

“Well, I can’t say the same about my teachers,” Leonora mutters.

“Then you should come live here,” Liza says excitedly.

“I’d like that,” Leonora replies with a meaningful glance.

In their bedroom, they continue talking about the evening. Leonora wants to know all about Gerard, but Liza has to admit that she doesn’t really know much about him.

“This vacation is a great chance to get to know him better,” Liza says, laughing.

“Do you think we’ll see him often?” Leonora asks.

“Oh, definitely. There’s a lot going on around the church, and he’s involved in various activities.”

Leonora sighs. “I was worried I wouldn’t enjoy this vacation, since I wouldn’t see my friends from home, but you’re still my best friend, even with the distance. And I’m really glad I met Gerard,” she adds shyly.

Liza smiles. She’s glad her friend has come around. How else would they have gotten through this vacation? She also tells her about Antonio, though Leonora can’t give her any advice. Still, Liza is happy to finally share her story.

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(1) There is no Boxing Day in the Netherlands. It’s called Second Christmas Day.

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