No running water, no flushing toilet, no walking around, no noise whatsoever.
As long as the office staff hasn't arrived, sounds travel more easily to the warehouse.
The door opens upstairs at eight-twenty, and this is followed by three gentle taps on the floor... Anne's hot cereal.
I clamber up the stairs to get my doggie dish.
Back downstairs, everything has to be done quickly, quickly: I comb my hair, put away the potty, shove the bed back in place.
Quiet! The clock is striking eight-thirty! Mrs. van D. changes shoes
and shuffles through the room in her slippers; Mr. van D. too -- a veritable Charlie Chaplin.
All is quiet. The ideal family scene has now reached its high point. I want to read or study and Margot does too.
Father and Mother ditto. Father is sitting (with Dickens and the dictionary, of course) on the edge of the sagging, squeaky bed,
which doesn't even have a decent mattress. Two bolsters can be piled on top of each other.
“I don't need these,” he thinks. “I can manage without them!” Once he starts reading, he doesn't look up.
He laughs now and then and tries to get Mother to read a story. “I don't have the time right now!”
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