Chapter Text
One Sunday when Ilse knocked on the door of Himmel Strasse 33, no one answered for a while, so she knocked again, starting to wonder whether they were all out. It was a beautiful sunny day and where Ilse was standing on the front steps, a golden sunbeam fell right on her face. Although at least one of the Hubermanns always used to welcome her into their home for her weekly visit, she wouldn’t blame them for wanting to enjoy these rare hours of sunlight.
Inevitably, as it seemed whenever she thought of the Hubermanns these days, Ilse’s mind strayed to Max. The last couple of weeks she really felt that the awkwardness between them slowly had melted away, and now, she could always look forward to a polite chat with him during her visits. Ilse was still overjoyed that he even wanted to speak to her.
She realised how absurd she must have seemed, trying to make friends with a jew hiding from Hitler in a basement, for whom it would mean death if someone let as much as a whisper slip about his whereabouts. All the same, there wasn’t anything wrong in trying to brighten his days a little, was there? At least Ilse thought that Max seemed happy to see her when she visited, but maybe she was imagining things: they had only talked a couple of times after all. She found those dark eyes hard to read at times, partly because the intensity of their gaze made her feel flustered somehow, as if it could see everything going on in her mind and how happy it made her to spend time with him.
Ilse was brought back to reality and the warmth of the sun by the sound of hurried footsteps from behind the door, and had just time to realise what a contrast this warm sunlight must have been to the dampness of Max’s basement, before the door was opened, revealing Liesel. Judging by her shortness of breath, she had just ran up the stairs from the basement.
“Hallo Ilse,” she said, “I’m sorry if you had to wait, we were down in the basement and I didn’t hear you at first before mama yelled at me to go and let you in.”
“It’s okay,” said Ilse as she shrugged off her coat. She poked her head into the kitchen to say hello to Rosa, standing as ever at the stove. “What were you doing anyway?”
“We’ve had a water leak in the basement. Half the floor’s flooded-” She lowered her voice before continuing, “-and we’ve had to put poor Max’s mattress on top of some old boxes to keep it dry. Go down and see for yourself!”
As Ilse descended the basement stairs, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness compared to the sunlight outside, but when they did, she could see that Liesel hadn’t been exaggerating. The source of the problem seemed to be one of the pipes along the ceiling, and although Hans, barefoot and with his pants rolled up around his calves, was in the process of wrapping it tightly in rags, it was still dripping considerably.
Max was perched in the only dry corner of the basement, on his hands and knees trying to soak up some of the water with a rag. When he spotted Ilse, he sat back on his heels and gave her a sort of apologetic but amused look. “Hallo, Ilse,” he said.
Hans looked up and wiped the sweat off his brow. “Ah, welcome, Ilse. I’m afraid today won’t be a very nice visit,” he said “We’ve been down here since the morning trying to keep this damned pipe from leaking.”
Despite herself Ilse couldn’t help chuckling at how ridiculous her uncle looked standing in the middle of the flooded floor as she tiptoed along the wall to Max’s dry corner. “Well I’m sorry you’ve been stuck inside, it’s such a beautiful day!”
Regret immediately seized her as she remembered Max. She was just about to apologise when she saw that he had perked up at what she said. Something wistful had come over him. “How was it?”
“What?”
“Outside. Would you describe it to me?” His gaze held such a deep longing as it locked on Ilse’s that she was sure she couldn’t deny him this even had she wanted to.
“Well, it- ” She hesitated, suddenly flustered. “This morning I woke up to some sun for what felt like the first time in months and when I went outside the sunlight was really warming - like the warmth of the sun was... almost holding me, very gently. It made everything look so alive, and even the people I met on the way here looked happy. I always feel that the sun suddenly makes everything feel so much lighter, and easier. Sorry, I don’t really know how to describe it-”
But Max was looking at her in a way that made her forget anything she had meant to say. He nodded and closed his eyes for a moment. Even Hans had stopped working and was leaning against the wall listening to Ilse, a soft smile in his silver eyes.
Ilse shrugged, feeling nervous. “I don’t know…”
She nearly jumped when Max reached out to gently touch her arm. “Thank you.” His expression was full of earnest gratitude and Ilse found that she couldn't quite take her eyes off him. Finally, he offered her a rather private smile and dropped his gaze to the rag in his hands, sheepishly wringing it out into a bucket.
Hans, who had returned his attention to the leaking pipe, finally gave up trying to get it to stop dripping when about half of his carefully placed rags fell off. “Well, this isn’t going to work. I think we need to find a better way to wrap this, just so it holds until we can have someone come and fix this.” He sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Do you think you can help me, Ilse? I’ll need someone to hold the pipe.”
“Sure.” She made to remove her shoes, but blushed when she realised that Max was looking at her: it wouldn’t be quite proper to remove her stockings in front of him. Gingerly, she slid them down her calves and put them atop a wooden crate. Max had discreetly looked away.
Ilse stepped into the water and went to her uncle.
“Alright, if you hold this here… Jesus, Mary and Josef-” Hans gestured to Max. “Come here Max, I need your strength too.”
Max got to his feet and removed his sweater, leaving him in a white tank top, before he made his way across the floor to them, making little jumps between dryer spots. “Of course,” he grinned, “but I’m warning you - I’m not that strong.”
Hans answered his smile. “Oh come on Max, I’ve seen you do your pushups.”
Max shrugged and positioned himself next to Ilse, putting his hands under the pipe on the other side of the leak. She found herself flushing for the second time that day at the sight of his toned arms.
Hans began unwrapping the pipe and as rag after rag was removed, water came leaking out in spurts onto them. One gush went into Max’s face and he spluttered, unable to do anything as he was holding up his side of the pipe. Ilse laughed and earned an amused snort from him.
Eventually, Hans secured the last rag around the leak and stepped back to make sure it wasn’t dripping anymore. “Alright, I think we did it.”
Ilse could finally release the pipe and massaged her arms, trying to shake some life into them again. Beside her, Max breathed a sigh of relief and ran a hand through his wet hair.
The sound of the stairs creaking drew their attention as Rosa poked her head into the basement.
“Ah, so now you show yourself,” Hans teased.
Rosa ignored him with a grudging smile and studied the pipe for a moment. “Well, that’s a relief,” she sighed. “We’ll still need to dry all this up so that Max can sleep in here tonight, but lunch is ready - you can finish this after some food.”
Ilse and Hans followed Rosa upstairs, but Ilse stopped her uncle before they reached the kitchen. “Hans, I need to ask you, what did Max mean by asking me to describe the weather?”
“Oh, he does that to Liesel almost every day - he likes to imagine the outside and, well... to try to remember it. You know, he hasn’t left the basement since he came to us.“ He smiled and clasped Ilse’s shoulder. “It’s nice that he asked you today.”
A little perplexed but more pleased than she would have liked to admit, Ilse followed him into the kitchen.