"See you soon, Caroline!" Chaper 7. Not odd, just different!

Chapter Seven:

 Not odd, just different!

 

When Dad arrived home that evening, he announced that he had found the perfect camp-site for them.

“It’s in that place that you picked out the other day” he said to his daughter pulling a brochure from his pocket. “’Argeles-sur-Mer’. Listen! This is what it says:

‘Camping Sud is in a wonderful location only a few metres from an uncrowded stretch of sandy beach. There are splendid facilities on offer, including well run entertainment and a wonderful pool complex. This is a great choice if you are travelling with teenagers - in high season there is a nightly disco especially for them.’”

“How does that sound?”

Simon said it sounded great, but Caroline wanted to know whether it was near Grandad’s camp.

Mother rolled her eyes. “Can’t you think of anything else at the moment? We’re planning a holiday not an archaeological expedition!”

“It’s not archaeology – it’s history” insisted her daughter. “And anyway, it’s not just any old history – it’s our history.”

“Well, it may be yours, but it’s not mine!” said Mother.

“I hadn’t thought of that” considered Simon. “That’s strange, isn’t it! But hey, are we all Jews then?”

“Good God” cried Dad. “We must be! And I’d never thought of that!”

“No, we’re not!” replied Caroline. “I asked Mr Shaw that yesterday. Apparently you’re only a Jew if your mother was a Jew. Grandad may be – we don’t know yet. But you’re not, Dad, and nor are we.”

Dad shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t get my head round this! But anyway, from what you say it’s all unproven yet. Let’s get back to this camp-site. Do we go for it or not?”

There was general agreement they should try to book a family tent in Camping Sud for one week, beginning on the first Saturday in August, just over a fortnight away. After that, they would drive up the coast to another campsite near Nice and spend two weeks in Provence.  An hour or so later still, and it was all done and settled.

The following morning Caroline was back again in the history department to see Mr Shaw. He looked up and smiled as she entered the room.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t heard anything so far. Come and see me later!” Then, just as his pupil was turning to go he added:

“By the way. That was a great bit of detective work that your friend John Bond did for you yesterday. I’d never heard of that French organisation, and without the information that he got from them, you would have been really stuck.”

“You mean about Franz Krauch?”

“Yes- I think there’s little doubt that he’s your Grandad – but of course we’ve still got to make sure. Yes, you owe John a great deal. I hope you thanked him!”

“Yes – yes, of course” she replied a little uncertainly. Privately she was thinking ‘Well, no! I didn’t really! Perhaps I’d better ask him along later too!’

So later that day John and Caroline were back to see Mr Shaw, and this time he seemed rather less confident that they were heading for success.

“I’ve had a reply to my email” he said. “The archivist at the AFSC headquarters (that’s the American Quakers by the way) said that they have a huge volume of files relating to the camp at Rivesaltes. There are mentions of individual children –quite a lot in fact – but they are not indexed, so he can’t just give us a simple answer to our question. He says that he doesn’t have the facilities to undertake a search of the files himself, it would be an enormous task. However, he says that we are welcome to search the files for ourselves.”

“Does he mean on-line?” asked John.

“No, apparently not. They have been digitised, but not uploaded to the internet.”

“So that’s it then!” said Caroline. “We’re no further forward!. Unless I can persuade my Dad to take us all to America!”

“Well, there is just one other possibility.  A copy of the digitised files has been placed in the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum.”

“Where’s that?” asked John.

“In Washington DC, America”

“So we will have to go to America!” cried Caroline.

Her teacher laughed. “There’s another copy. In France!”

“At the camp at Rivesaltes?” asked Caroline.

Mr Shaw smiled.  “No, not that far away. It’s in the ‘Musee de la Shoah’ in Paris. That’s the Paris Museum of the Holocaust. ‘Shoah’ is the Hebrew word for the Holocaust, and many countries including France use that word. Is there any possibility your family could take you there?”

“Well, we are going to go to the south of France next month, so I suppose we could call in on Paris on the way down.”

“Excellent!” said Mr Shaw. “If I were you, I’d email them to say you’re coming, and explain what you want to find out. You will probably have to do the searching yourself once they’ve set you up, so count on being there all day – even two!”

Caroline and John went down the stairs together.

“Well, that’s it then” said John. “Good luck with the research in Paris. I’m sorry I won’t be able to help you!”

“You’ve been a great help so far. I’m sorry if I haven’t seemed very grateful”

“That’s OK. You probably think I’m a bit pushy, getting involved with your affairs. Actually, it’s not like me at all really.  I didn’t find it easy speaking to you about it, but I was so interested in what you were trying to do.”

Caroline didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t very well say “Yes, you were a bit out of order!” So she just smiled and thanked him again.

They walked on together and out of the door.

As they approached the gate, where their paths would separate, John said:

“I’ve really enjoyed helping you. And not just because I like the challenge of a mystery. It was good to be working with somebody.” He paused. “I do most things on my own” he said.

Caroline was about to walk off down the road, but she stopped and turned back. “Yes, you do seem to be by yourself most of the time” she said. “Don’t you feel lonely sometimes?”

“All the time!” he said bitterly. “You don’t know what it’s like being an only child! Everybody thinks you’re spoilt, a mother’s boy, that sort of thing. I’ve heard people talking about me! I didn’t ask to be an only child! It wasn’t my fault my parents couldn’t have any more children!”

“But there must be a lot of advantages” said Caroline, wanting to put an end to this conversation but not knowing how to. “Like, you don’t have to share everything as me and Simon do!”

‘Simon and I do’ thought John, but he just said “You know those things you want to know about, but you can’t ask your parents?”

Caroline nodded.

“Well, if you have brothers and sisters, you can talk to them about things. Us only ones have no-one to ask!”

“Mm – I s’pose! Anyway, I must get off. So – thanks again! ‘Bye!”

“’Bye Caroline. See you tomorrow!” and he was gone.

Caroline walked home deep in thought. If she’d thought about John Bond at all, it was as someone who was a bit odd, a bit different. Someone who found school work easy, and who preferred not to get involved in the fun and comradeship of the others. Everybody knew there were boys – and girls – like that.  They were just different, a bit weird some of them. It had never occurred to her that they might have wanted to be more friendly, but didn’t know how to. She resolved to try to be a little less quick to make judgements about people in future.