Alex Steiner

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"Do you remember?" I asked whilst we remained at a fairly fast walking pace.

"Remember what?" He frowned.

"Where the Tailors Shop is?" I tested him.

"How could I forget, over there, isn't it?" He motioned to a street across the silent road. I willingly crossed the road as Rudy followed behind me.

The shop stood old and worn, the paint peeling away like a clementines coat being ripped from the fruit. Papa's job was painting buildings, I'm sure if he was still alive, he'd give this build a makeover. The bell dinged when we entered the shop. It was cluttered with tape measures, tumbling off the tables. Pieces of creased paper and chestnut coloured books lay on every clear surface and work top. I hadn't worked here in two years, it hadn't changed.

"Wait here, I'll go to see Mr Steiner," I assured. I skipped up the couple of creaking, lop-sided, stairs that led the way to Mr Steiner's office. I knocked three times on his door.

"Come in," He bellowed from inside. I anxiously crept in, it had been eons since we last met.

"Liesel, what are you doing here?" He looked confused.

"I have some news, you may want to come down stairs."

"But why?" he asked.

"You'll see." He followed me to where Rudy stood. His face appeared confused.

"Liesel, who is this young man?"

"I thought he was dead, until I met him earlier. He had spent the past six years at his Grandparents house, in Austria, because his family were killed in the bombing on Himmel Street, and assumed his father had died in the war. I had told you he was dead, until today." Rudy took off his hat and put it to his chest, revealing his hair, still the colour of lemons.

"It's Rudy," I mumbled. "Your son."

"My son? You're... you're not dead?" He stuttered.

"No, father," He said, eyes as round as saucers. Mr Steiner walked up to Rudy and looked him in the eye, his instinct believed me. His face showed nothing, yet you could feel the happiness and surprise, radiating off his body.

"My son! My son!" Alex said, his voice trembling and wobbly at the sound of it, shrieking through my ears.

"Father!" Rudy embraced him with pleasure and thankfulness. It was silent for a few moments, the only voice you could hear was the faint sobbing of both men, glued together in the middle of the shop whilst I over watched them, silently smiling. A joyous sensation danced inside of me. This moment was beautiful and most spectacular. The two men suddenly broke away from each other.

"Look at you, look at you! All grown up!" he laughed. I had to admit that Rudy has grown up into the most dashing young man. I probably sound like his mother but it is very true, the first thing I noticed about him in fact. His sculpted jaw line and his sweet smile, his hair that was like lemons, his ocean blue eyes you could become lost in, in one single glance.

"Splendid!" I overheard. I had been daydreaming, but I hadn't the faintest idea of what it was about. How irritating is that?

"I'll see you again soon," Rudy announced, his face glowering in the dim light and his scarlet cheeks, recovering from the unnoticeable cold weather in April.

"Goodbye, Rudy!" Alex exclaimed. He waved as Mr Steiner made is way back up the stairs. Now, he approached me.

"Liesel?" I had my nose in a book. It's a classic Charlotte Brontë novel: Jane Eyre. I've only just began. I struggled to my feet, I was perched on the bottom stair.

"I should be getting home," I hoarsely said, peering at my leather fitted watch I had received from Max as last years Christmas present. The time had flown by like a Kestrel, soaring through the dodger blue sky.

"I'll walk you home."

"Oh, thank you, Rudy." He guided me to the door, into the pale night, lined in a purple sky. It was twenty minutes past eight o'clock. We started along the steep, cobble path way.

"You really have changed," He explained, eyeing my quick moving, lean figure, coated in cloth.

"How?"

"Different sense of style and vocabulary, and you've obviously matured a lot. But you are still obsessed with books, Liesel, and now writing as well! Tell me, have you been stealing any books lately?" He remarked.

"I didn't steal books, I borrowed them. And I don't steal books, I mean, borrow them. I can afford my own, now I have a job, unlike some people."

"Remember I only arrived here a week ago," He put.

"Well, what are you going to do, then?" I asked.

"I don't know, probably a shop worker or something, it's not like there will be any dance opportunities here." The little shack was standing among a herd of others in the nearby distance.

"There it is, that's where I live," I chimed in, pointing in that direction.

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