But I'm certain of one thing: if Peter and I do become friends, I'm going to tell him you're also very fond of him and are prepared to help him if he needs you. You wouldn't want me to, I'm sure, but I don't care; I don't know what Peter thinks of you, but I'll ask him when the time comes. It's certainly nothing bad-on the contrary! You're welcome to join us in the attic, or wherever we are. You won't be disturbing us, because we have an unspoken agreement to talk only in the evenings when it's dark.
Keep your spirits up! I'm doing my best, though it's not always easy. Your time may come sooner than you think.
Yours, Anne
THURSDAY, MARCH 23, 1944
Dearest Kitty,
Things are more or less back to normal here. Our coupon men have been released from prison, thank goodness!
Miep's been back since yesterday, but today it was her husband's turn to take to his bed-chills and fever, the usual flu symptoms. Bep is better, though she still has a cough, and Mr. Kleiman will have to stay home for a long time. Yesterday a plane crashed nearby. The crew was able to parachute out in time. It crashed on top of a school, but luckily there were no children inside. There was a small fire and a couple of people were killed. As the airmen made their descent, the Germans sprayed them with bullets. The Amsterdammers who saw it seethed with rage at such a dastardly deed. We-by which I mean the ladies-were also scared out of our wits. Brrr, I hate the sound of gunfire.
Now about myself.
I was with Peter yesterday and, somehow, I honestly don't know how, we wound up talking about sex. I'd made up my mind a long time ago to ask him a few things. He knows everything; when I said that Margot and I weren't very well informed, he was amazed. I told him a lot about Margot and me and Mother and Father and said that lately I didn't dare ask them anything. He offered to enlighten me, and I gratefully accepted: he described how contraceptives work, and I asked him very boldly how boys could tell they were grown up. He had to think about that one; he said he'd tell me tonight. I told him what had happened to Jacque, and said that girls are defenseless against strong boys. "Well, you don't have to be afraid of me," he said.
When I came back that evening, he told me how it is with boys. Slightly embarrassing, but still awfully nice to be able to discuss it with him. Neither he nor I had ever imagined we'd be able to talk so openly to a girl or a boy, respectively, about such intimate matters. I think I know everything now. He told me a lot about what he called Prasentivmitteln* [* Should be Praservativmitteln: prophylactics] in German.
That night in the bathroom Margot and I were talking about Bram and Trees, two friends of hers.
This morning I was in for a nasty surprise: after breakfast Peter beckoned me upstairs. "That was a dirty trick you played on me," he said. "I heard what you and Margot were saying in the bathroom last night. I think you just wanted to find out how much Peter knew and then have a good laugh!"
I was stunned! I did everything I could to talk him out of that outrageous idea; I could understand how he must have felt, but it just wasn't true! "Oh no, Peter," I said. "I'd never be so mean. I told you I wouldn't pass on anything you said to me and I won't. To put on an act like that and then deliberately be so mean. . . No,Peter, that's not my idea ofa joke. It wouldn't be fair. I didn't say anything, honest. Won't you believe me?" He assured me he did, but I think we'll have to talk about it again sometime. I've done nothing all day but worry about it. Thank goodness he came right out and said what was on his mind. Imagine if he'd gone around thinking I could be that mean. He's so sweet!
Now I'll have to tell him everything!
Yours, Anne
FRIDAY, MARCH 24, 1944
Dear Kitty,
I often go up to Peter's room after dinner nowadays to breathe in the fresh evening air. You can get around to meaningful conversations more quickly in the dark than with the sun tickling your face. It's cozy and snug sitting beside him on a chair and looking outside. The van Daans and Dussel make the silliest remarks when I disappear into his room. "Annes zweite Heimat,"* [* Anne's second home] they say, or "Is it proper for a gentleman to receive young girls in his room at night with the lights out?" Peter has amazing presence of mind in the face of these so-called witticisms. My mother, incidentally, is also bursting with curiosity and simply dying to ask what we talk about, only she's secretly afraid I'd refuse to answer. Peter says the grown-ups are just jealous because we're young and that we shouldn't take their obnoxious comments to heart.
Sometimes he comes downstairs to get me, but that's awkward too, because in spite of all his precautions his face turns bright red and he can hardly get the words out of his mouth. I'm glad I don't blush; it must be extremely unpleasant.