THE DIARY OF A YOUNG GIRL : THE DEFINITIVE EDITION ... - Fidele

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