The Daughter of the Führer

XVII

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Lunch goes by quickly, no one seems to want to talk to me, which is good, but I don't escape the dirty looks... especially from the little ones, who are probably jealous of the attention they are giving me, which I don't want.
I just want to become invisible, or disappear into thin air... or go live with my dad, even though I still don't know who he is.
Maybe there's something about my dad, in my mum's room, but it's locked, I could force it open with some hairpins, or I could look all over the house for the key, even though I already know one place it could be 50/50. Her parents' room, I have to sneak into Grandma Maria and Grandpa Alexander's room.
I hope an opportunity happens as soon as possible, that both of them are out of the house, and that the house is empty so that I can look for her without any peeping eyes.
《Linda everything okay, you haven't said anything anymore.... Do you like the food?》
Uncle Carlo asks me all of a sudden, which makes me gasp in fright.
《Yes, yes. I'm fine uncle. Nothing to worry about. I really like the food, it's really good, could you pass me another slice of roast and some potatoes please!?》
I ask him, and he with a smile takes my plate and puts in two slices of roast and a big handful of baked potatoes. Everyone went quiet as soon as they heard Uncle Carlo speaking in German, and alternated their gaze between Uncle and me. Grandma as soon as Carlo took the plate and filled it for me, she breathed a sigh of relief, I think because I like the food.
Grandma then turns to Carlo.
《What did the little one say? Do you like it? 》
Uncle Carlo replies to her, although I don't know what he's talking about.
《Yes, she likes it so much that she also wanted an encore.》
Granny, after Uncle finishes talking, looks at me happily and, it seems, with tears in her eyes. But I must have seen wrong.
As soon as everyone has finished eating, I take all the dishes to the kitchen where they will be washed.
The others leave them on the table, as if to signify that it is not their job. But don't they want to help? It is true that we have different cultures, but I didn't think they were so far apart.
I am under everyone's gaze, as if I were a being outside the norm, especially the children, who were completely out of favour with their grandmother.
The latter is also stuck there, picking up some dishes to take over there, and is as shocked as the others. Except for Uncle Carlo, who approaches me and says joyfully.
《You know we're not in Switzerland or Poland here. But bravo, give the initiative to this gang of wimps! 》
She says giving me a playful tap on the shoulder. I laugh at his statement. Wimps. It's funny coming from him, since he was always sitting on the armchair listening to the radio without moving a muscle.
《Ironic from you, Uncle》
I tell him, teasing him a little, he looks at me with an offended look, but then bursts out laughing. Everyone is there asking for answers telepathically, also because they don't understand German, and therefore don't understand our conversations. It will be our secret language!
Ours alone, to be used when we don't want others to understand us.

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