Love During World War II

Moore

Even when Brenda didn't want to think about him, her mind kept on wandering towards the stranger, Aaron.

Maybe your daddy can help explain the wittiness in your dialogues. What was he talking about? What did he mean?

Just as Brenda shook the thought out of her head, she was interrupted by the sound of the dishes rattling against one another downstairs. The thought of someone being downstairs scared her since Napoli had left for her tea party. Brenda was the only one in the house - except for her daddy, of course, but even he was busy in his library.

Brenda ran downstairs, expecting to find someone inside, but unfortunately when she walked inside the kitchen, she found it empty. Taking a deep breath, she shifted on her toes and headed towards the lounge.

As she made her way through the corridor, Brenda could not help but stop in her tracks when she heard laughter coming from the library.

She stealthily glided towards the library, cautious enough not to walk in front of the library door which stood slightly ajar.

Crouching next to the wall, Brenda bit her lower lip nervously, she was well aware of the consequences if she was caught.

Ever since she was a child, she had been strictly warned against fidgeting around with her dads work or loitering around near the library.

"Oh, ho, ho! Hitler told me. Mine is the west sector," a deep husky voice stated.

"Hm, I see. I wonder why he gave me the north," Bormann complained, his heavy accent filling the room.

Licking her lips, Brenda placed her ear closer to the wall. "Where are the hostages?"

"They are kept in secret. In-inside the basement in my office, for now." Bormann said.

Just as she turned around to head back to her room, Brenda's hand accidentally hit the door causing it to fling open.

"WHO IS IT?" her father shouted.

"It-it's me!" Brenda called as she entered the library room, her heart beating rapidly against her throat.

When he saw Brenda walk into the room, Martin's gaze softened. He took her in his arms, cooing, "Darling!"

Breaking apart, he introduced her proudly, "This is my beloved daughter, Brenda."

He then turned towards her. "Brenda, this is Uncle Wright and his son, Charles."

Brenda looked at her bald potbellied uncle, next to whom stood a broad handsome young man: his Greek nose complimented the rest of his face, his olive skin and golden locks made him look godly.

"Nice to meet you," she mumbled.

Bormann laughed at his daughters expression, "Perhaps you would like to show Charles around?"

"Yes father," she breathed in agreement.

"Brilliant place you have here!" Charles said in his British accent.

Even though many girls would die by his charming personality, this didn't affect Brenda; they had just met, yet she hated Charles.

"Yeah," she sighed as she walked towards the other side of her room, towards the dressing table.

Just as she moved away from him, Charles approached her.

"Didn't your father tell you?" he questioned, examining a crystal carving of a swan on her bedside table.

This caused Brenda to look up and for once she made eye contact with him. "Tell me what?" she asked.

"About the wedding, surely."