Somewhere else is a story based on the turbulent life of Adriana Blaauw, a young Dutch woman, caught up in the chaos of World War 2. It tells of her tears and laughter experiences as a prisoner in Japanese concentration camps on the island of Java in the then Dutch East Indies. After her liberation, Adriana tracks down her erstwhile lover who is an Australian National. They marry and as newly-weds live in Australia for several years before moving back to Java with their brand-new daughter. Not long after and as a direct aftermath of the war, Adriana suffers the ultimate tragedy. She travels back home to Holland, but finds it difficult to connect to post-war Europe. Unsettled she looks for a future somewhere else. Following her instincts, she emigrates to New Zealand where she finally finds the permanence and peace for which she has been searching.

SOMEWHERE ELSE

By Leni Rodgers

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2011 Leni Rodgers
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4634-4062-6

Chapter One

Rotterdam 1938

With the rain streaming down her face and her mind in turmoil, Adriana turns the corner into the Rozenstraat in Rotterdam. The sky had opened up just as she left the greengrocer's with the bag of potatoes her mother needs for the evening meal. The glistening pavement is interspersed with large black patches where puddles have formed in the uneven laid paving stones. It isn't yet four-thirty in the afternoon and only the beginning of October, but already a heavy dusk has settled over the city. Reflections from lit up windows in the long row of dreary three-storey one-family tenement houses throw blurred, rippled patchwork patterns onto the slick road surface.

Adriana Cornelia Blaauw is a slim brunette: a pretty girl with rosy cheeks and a ready smile. The ready smile is absent today—replaced by a worried frown between her large brown eyes—as she trudges along through the gloomy surroundings. Her medium length hair hangs in sad looking rattails around her face, the wet ends drip steadily down her collar and saturate the jumper underneath her coat. She doesn't notice. The heavy downpour only vaguely registers with her now that she heads into the wind after turning into her street.

Home is number—two twenty six—in the Rozenstraat. It is way down the other end. Distracted, she wipes the drips from her nose and chin with the sleeve of her coat, and suddenly realises that she is soaked through. She should have taken the umbrella, but it had only been drizzling when, deep in thought she had walked out of the house without even putting her beret on. The need for a brollie had been furthermost from her mind.

She expects her mother to be very annoyed with her when she gets home; lamenting about the time it will take to dry out Adriana's only coat in this damp weather. She hates making life difficult for her mum, but today the importance of a wet coat pales in comparison to the bigger issue she faces. The beat of her footsteps echoes her thoughts. What to do, oh, what to do!

She believes that she wants to go, the adventure is so tempting; but scary too. She must also think of her parents and sisters. If she chooses to go, it will look as if she doesn't care about them and that just isn't true.

Arriving at number two twenty six, she finds that she not only forgot the umbrella, but the key to the communal door of the tenement building as well. Darn it, now she has to ring the bell. At least her two younger sisters will be home from school by now. They'll answer the door instead of her mother. The door opens, pulled by the string that snakes down the banisters of the staircases from the shared front door to their third floor apartment landing.

'Who's there?' Her youngest sister Mien shouts down.

'Only me!'

With her feet squelching in the wet shoes, she climbs the first staircase, leaving shiny wet puddles on the wooden treads. She can hear Mien and Truus, the middle one of the trio of sisters, squabbling on the third floor landing. Apparently, Truus got up to answer the door, when roughly pushed aside by her little sister for the privilege. Being some three years older, she declares Mien a stupid juvenile. Adriana smiles indulgently. She is after all the adult one. Seventeen at the end of the month. Will she still be here then, though?

On their apartment landing, her sisters are angrily muttering at each other.

Spotting her very wet sister, Mien immediately forgets her gripes and shrieks in her high-pitched voice: 'Mum, come look at our Adriana. She looks like a drowned cat!' The last part of the sentence is lost in a mumble as Truus clamps her hand over the girl's mouth.

'Be quiet, you silly mutt! Mum doesn't need to know. Go get a cloth and dry the landings and stairs—all the way down to the front door, not just ours,' she warns.

She turns to her older sister. 'Give me that coat and your shoes, your stockings too. I'll put them in the attic to dry out. Mum will have a blue fit if she sees the state of your clothes.'

Mien also wants to be helpful now and brings a small towel from the closet as well as a cloth. Handing the towel to Adriana to dry her hair and face, she bounds down the stairs to attack the long wet trail.

Liesbet Blaauw looks at her eldest daughter, who has placed the sodden wet shopping bag containing the potatoes on the kitchen bench.

'Rather wet out there, isn't it.' It's a comment rather than a question.

Adriana waits for the scolding to follow. Her wet hair and jumper are a dead give-away for the lack of overhead protection, but ... nothing. Instead ...

'Would you peel the potatoes please, love. I'd like to have dinner as soon as your dad comes home from work.'

Her mother's lack of comment unnerves Adriana. She waits a couple of minutes before she hesitantly confesses, 'I forgot the umbrella.'

'I know,' Liesbet replies.

'My coat is sopping wet. Truus hung it up in the attic. My shoes and stockings too.'

'I know.'

'I forgot the key as well.'

'I know,' her mother repeats.

Adriana has no more offences on offer and gives up.

It is getting warm in the small narrow kitchen. The two gas rings are on. Auburn glints are starting to appear in Adriana's hair as it dries. Except for the kettle that announces its boiling point with a piercing whistle, the kitchen remains deadly quiet.

Liesbet covertly studies her generally chatty daughter. The girl is miles away again. The potatoes are mishandled. This is not usual behaviour for her normally spirited eldest, but she knows very well what's bugging the girl.

More to defeat the uneasy silence than needing confirmation of what she already knows she asks, 'Still thinking about your aunt and uncle's offer, are you?'

'Mmmm? What?' Adriana has registered the voice, but not the words. 'Sorry, what did you say, Mum?'

Her mother smiles as she repeats the question. Adriana's only answer is a nod and a big heavy sigh.

Liesbet has also given the same offer a lot of thought over the last week. Her older sister Jeanne and husband Wim are in the Netherlands on furlough from the Dutch East Indies. Wim is the factory manager of a Belgian Tea Estate on the island of Java. Jeanne and Wim are childless. Not rich, but comparatively well off: mostly unaffected by the depression that has made life so difficult in most other parts of the world.

Liesbet isn't envious of her sister, but she has reluctantly acknowledged that Jeanne and Wim's circumstances are far superior to that of her and her husband, Cor. She doesn't complain; because they are still a lot better off than most of the people around them. Cor still has his job on the waterfront and a job is more than many men can lay claim to. Unemployment is rife—so yes—in a way, they've been lucky and have come through relatively unscathed, so far that is. Improvement has been very slow and new clouds of doom are gathering on the horizon. The "making ends meet," has remained an everlasting financial struggle. The flat is too small as well. A front room, a small kitchen and a back room with two sleeping alcoves is hardly luxury accommodation. Liesbet would love to have one of the more modern apartments, with bedrooms rather than alcoves. She holds onto the dream that she knows isn't likely to come true in the near future. Cor has partitioned off a room for Adriana in the attic. It has solved the space problem to a degree. It is, however, extremely cold up there in the winter and unbearably hot in summer. Not what you'd call the healthiest of conditions for the girl.

When Jeanne and Wim made the offer to take Adriana home with them, pay her fare and let her stay with them for as long as she wanted, Liesbet's initial reaction had been the same as Adriana's. "No way!"

However, Cor—when rather belatedly informed of the proposal—felt that rejecting it out of hand was premature. He suggested that they examine the offer a little closer. It would also please him if they'd let him have some input. Liesbet accepted the underlying dig and apologised.

Many weeks of soul-searching debates between the parents followed. At times these benefits-versus-downsides discussions lasted well into the night, leaving a bleary-eyed Cor to face work the next morning. Finally, they agreed that the offer was a once in a lifetime opportunity for Adriana. Even though they would hate to see her leave, especially to a land so far away, they'd not stand in her way, but ... Cor put on the proviso that Adriana herself was to make the final decision. Liesbet had agreed. Secretly however, she felt that they had placed a too heavy burden on their sixteen-year-old daughter. Of late, she had noticed that Adriana had started to waver from her earlier obdurate—no way—statement. The subtle change in attitude became noticeable after Jeanne had shown her a series of photos of the Plantation at Tjiboeni.

Unfortunately, it has clearly increased Adriana's inner turmoil and that makes Liesbet feel guilty. Poor kid, she thinks, as she now observes the disconsolate face. She is so obviously struggling with the responsibility of making the right choice. Liesbet longs to help her, but Cor has been adamant that they must not influence her whatsoever. This time Liesbet's—rather than Adriana's heavy sigh fills the silence.

At the same time—across the other side of Rotterdam—Jeanne and Wim Derksen also debate the subject Adriana. Their guesthouse room on the third floor overlooks the harbour that today looms grey and angry under the dark sky. Black clouds keep emerging over the far horizon without even the smallest hiatus, spilling their sated contents onto the gloomy waterlogged city.

Wim has been pacing the floor of the impersonal room like a caged lion for the last ten minutes. Back and forth, back and forth. Four meters one way, turn and four meters back. For a man used to the outdoors, being locked up in this confined space is comparable to a jail term.

He suddenly stops halfway through a turn and faces his wife, who is quietly reading a book in the one and only armchair in the room.

'I'm all for the idea of your niece coming to live with us, Jeanne, you know that don't you?' Wim sounds apprehensive, as if he is unsure about the wisdom to pose the question in the first place. 'But' ... He bravely continues, 'are you sure you want to take this on? A seventeen old girl is quite a responsibility.'

'I've thought about it ever since we've arrived back, Wim, and I'm sure that I can handle it. Adriana is a nice girl and well mannered. Liesbet also assures me that she's very responsible for her age. I suppose she has to be, being the eldest.'

'As long as you know what you're doing! I know she's a nice kid, but she has been dilly-dallying a bit on whether or not she wants to come. Time's running out, Jeanne. We have to have an answer this week. Booking her on the ship and getting her ready will take some time. I think we should visit them to-night and get it settled.'

'Fine by me,' replies Jeanne. 'The longer we leave it, the more the poor girl will be in two minds. It's a difficult decision for her, but when I spoke to her last Thursday she gave me the impression that she really wants to come. All the same, leaving her family won't be easy for her.'

Wim walks over to the window and stands for a while looking at the sad skeletons of the cranes towering over the neglected old wharf buildings that surround the gloomy port. Only four thirty, but misty lights are shining from the large vessels berthed in the port. Glaring hefty wharf lights pierce the murky air, but only serve to bolster the dismal look of neglect so evident throughout the busy port. A ferryboat struggles through the turbulent waters of the harbour. No other traffic appears willing to brave the angry waves. Wim stares at the depressing scene, hands clasped behind his back.

'Why would anyone prefer this to Tjiboeni?' he muses, not expecting an answer to what for him is the obvious.

Jeanne smiles benignly. She certainly hasn't ever regretted moving away from here, but Adriana has to make up her own mind. They'd all agreed not to put pressure on her, at least not until it became essential that a decision was made.

That time is now alarmingly close.

Dinner is indeed ready when Cor arrives home, even wetter than Adriana had been after her shopping trip. He has worked mainly inside the sheds that day, but riding home on his pride possession, a bicycle, he's received the full blast of the inclement weather. His wet coat and trousers join Adriana's clothes in the attic.

The younger girls have finished washing the dishes and the three sisters are sitting around the table. Truus is doing homework while Mien draws a picture in her new sketchbook: a present from her parents on her last birthday. Cor reads the newspaper and Liesbet knits. Adriana is vacuously twisting a piece of string round and round her hand, removing it and starting again.

'Do you have to do that?' Truus wants to know. 'You're driving me crazy.'

Adriana looks surprised at her string wrapped hand and snaps back, 'Can't drive you to something you already are.'

Truus is ready to retaliate, but Cor stops her; 'That's enough you two. And, please stop that twiddling, Adriana. Can't you find something more useful to do?'

'Yes, I can. I'm going to bed.' She angrily glares at Truus across the table as she roughly shoves her chair aside.

Her sisters are flabbergasted. They have to be chased to bed. They'd never make that move voluntarily and this is even earlier than their bedtime. Adriana kisses her parents goodnight. Neither comment on her early departure. She slams the outer apartment door before climbing the stairs to the attic. Her room smells damp from the wet clothes hanging on the partition wall. It is cold as well. Getting under the warm blankets is a blessing, but sleep doesn't come easy. Every time she finds herself sliding into that dozy comfort zone, her brain snaps into overtime-mode. Finally, she falls into a fitful sleep.

'Adriana. Are you awake?'

There's a voice and the sound of laboured footsteps on the uncovered staircase. It penetrates and disturbs Adriana's just-found peace.

'Adriana, you awake?' Her mother has reached the little room. 'Your aunt and uncle are here and we all need to have a talk. Just put your green cardigan over your nightie and come on down.'

Half asleep, Adriana does as she's told and follows her mother meekly down the stairs. She knows. This is it: decision time. It had to come, but she's still not clear on what to do. Darn it, she wants to go, but she can't leave her family. She is shaking with nerves as she greets Jeanne and Wim. They are sitting side by side at the table across from her parents. It looks very formal, not exactly creating an ambience to put her at ease.

Cor fetches the kitchen stool and puts it next to her mother's chair.

'Sit down, love. You know what this is about, of course.'

Adriana nods and sits on the edge of the stool. Jeanne grabs her hand across the table.

'Aad, dear, you know that both your uncle and I want you to come. I know you'll love Tjiboeni. I've already thought of lots of things we can do together, but it is up to you.'

'But I'll have to go on a ship.' Adriana blurts out. It's one of the many negatives she's able to dig up. 'I'm even terrified on the "Heen en Weer" ferryboat.'

She looks desperately at the faces around the table. 'Oh, I don't know, I really don't know.'

'We realise it's a difficult choice to make, love, but we need an answer.' Jeanne pats her hand reassuringly. 'The big ships aren't half as scary as the ferry. You're so far away from the water that it's more like being on an island: not frightening at all. If you're coming with us though, we'll have to book your passage. There's a passport to apply for and we'll have to get you a suitable wardrobe. It will all take time and we have less than three weeks now.'

She lets go of Adriana's hand but keeps looking at here expectantly, her whole face a question mark that can't be ignored; it demands a prompt reply.

'Mum,' the frantic cry reflects Adriana's confusion of the last few weeks. 'Mum ... what would you do in my place?'

(Continues...)

Excerpted from SOMEWHERE ELSEby Leni Rodgers Copyright © 2011 by Leni Rodgers. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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