I knew I was jealous of her and I hated the way she and Michael had looked at each other. Aunt Jessie talked to me about it and I listened; she knew Michael better than anyone in the world. She was his mother after all, even if she wouldn’t admit it. I knew she had her reasons; Auntie Jessie always had her reasons. Part of it was to do with Michael’s German father. ‘People often have an attraction for each other,’ she explained again, with patience. It won’t last, believe me. Your sister Hari is clever, she will go far, she’s not cut out to be a farmer’s wife.’ ‘But again, am I?’ It was a question with a deeper question behind it and we both knew it. ‘You might just be.’ ‘Danke!’ I’d never shown Aunt Jessie I was learning German and I saw at once I’d made a mistake. ‘Don’t you dare use that language here girl!’ She was fierce. ‘Don’t you realize Michael could be deported and what would we do then, eh?’ ‘Sorry – sorry, I won’t do it again Aunt Jessie.
