The Storyteller of Casablanca (24)

Nina liked him too and the three of us got on very well, even though we come from such different backgrounds. It seems strange that there’s so much fighting going on in the world when it’s perfectly possible for a Jewish boy to be friends with a Muslim girl and a lapsed Catholic-Jewish girl. He didn’t mind turning one end of the skipping rope while Nina and I took turns in the middle, although he refused to have a go himself because he said skipping is for girls only. He’s taught himself to juggle and he showed us how, with three oranges that I borrowed from Kenza. Nina and I had a go, but we can only do it with two so far.

When it was time for him to leave, Papa came down to say goodbye while I was returning the oranges to the kitchen because Kenza needed them for the tajine for dinner that night. When I came back, Papa asked me if I’d like to go for an outing to the Parc Murdoch with Felix the following week. I suppose Felix must have proposed that to Papa. Anyway, it was nice to be asked and I said I would, even though I knew Annette would tease me about it when she found out.



Today Felix turned up for tea and cakes again (no Coca-Cola this time, but there was a jug of lemonade) and when the air began to cool a little Papa glanced at his watch and said we could go to the park. The MOST exciting thing happened there, so I’m writing it down straight away so that I don’t forget any of the details.

Parc Murdoch is a wonderful place, an oasis of green in the middle of the white city, with grass and palm trees and many beautiful flowers. Felix says it’s one of his favourite places to be. There are no nice gardens in the mellah. Anyway, we were sitting by the drinking fountain, chatting about what we are going to do when we get to America, when suddenly a huge dog came up to us. It was a very fine creature indeed, with a glossy coat, and it was wearing a very smart leather collar so I knew it wasn’t a stray. I was so busy petting it that at first I didn’t notice its owner, who was standing alongside it. But when I did notice her, my jaw nearly hit the ground in amazement. I recognised her from the photos in Papa’s newspaper. It was Miss Josephine Baker, the famous exotic dancer and singer! She is so beautiful with her very short and very glossy black hair and her enormous eyes. I would have expected her to be taller but she’s actually quite petite, especially alongside her Great Dane, who I now realised was none other than Bonzo. As you would expect from an exotic dancer, her movements are very graceful.

Even more amazingly, instead of just walking on she stopped and spoke to us! I was thinking that I couldn’t wait to tell Papa, Maman and Annette. Josephine Baker asked us if we liked the park and she told us that, like Felix, it’s one of her favourite places to come when she’s in Casablanca. She lives in Marrakesh now, but likes coming to the ocean sometimes. I plucked up the courage to ask her about the rest of her animals. She said that two of the monkeys – who are called Glug-Glug and Gugusse – were quite bad-tempered and they’d been fighting quite a lot so she had to make sure they stayed apart at all times or else the fur would start to fly. The mice are well. Their names are Curler and Question Marker because of their tails. She asked me whether I like animals and I told her that it’s my dream to have a farm when we get to America, with horses and turtle doves and maybe a Great Dane like Bonzo. She was very nice and listened carefully, not like most grown-ups. She said it’s important to have dreams in life.

Then she asked whether we would like her autograph, but she realised she didn’t have a piece of paper to write it on. Surprisingly, Felix reached into his pocket and pulled out two folded sheets of notepaper. It was the exact same shade of pale blue as the writing paper Papa has on his desk at home. Miss Josephine Baker took out a pen from the beautiful embroidered handbag she was carrying and she signed one of the sheets and handed it to me. I was very pleased to have her autograph and couldn’t wait to show it to Nina. I was also thinking that now Annette wouldn’t be able to say I was making the whole thing up.

I thought Josephine Baker would sign the second sheet for Felix, but instead she popped it back into her handbag with her pen. I think she must be a bit absent-minded. Then she said goodbye and she and Bonzo carried on with their walk.

I felt awful that Felix didn’t get an autograph, so I offered him the one she’d given me. But he said I should keep it and he would look at it sometimes when he came to visit. That was very generous of him and typical of his kind character.

Sure enough, Maman and Annette were very impressed when I got home and showed them Josephine Baker’s autograph. I’m keeping it in the sandalwood box, along with my necklace.





Zoe – 2010

I open the sandalwood box and take out the folded square of blue paper. I imagine a block of such sheets sitting on Monsieur Duval’s desk, and this one being folded up and put into Felix’s pocket. The autograph is faded, but still legible, the handwriting elegant and flowing.

The internet connection in the house is painfully slow at the best of times, and frequently drops altogether, especially if there’s been a thunderstorm, as there was last night. Every now and then the Atlantic brews up a mass of lowering storm clouds and unleashes a furious display of sound and light on the city. These African storms are of a terrifying scale I’ve never witnessed in England, but there’s something magnificent about the power and the fury of them too and they clear the air and leave the streets washed clean the next morning.

I want to find out more about Josephine Baker, so I pack my laptop and the folded sheet of paper in Grace’s changing bag, strap on the baby carrier and head out to try and find the library. There are cafés with Wi-Fi closer to home, but I don’t feel comfortable there and I certainly don’t want to expose Grace to any danger. I’ve searched online and found there are several libraries in Casa, but there’s only one within easy walking distance of the Boulevard des Oiseaux. I hope it may be the one Josie used to frequent, although of course the city has changed beyond all recognition in the intervening seventy years and she doesn’t mention the exact location in her journal, so I have no guarantee that it still exists.