- Happy birthday, Anna. - Thank you, Pim.
Such a surprise, huh?
- Chose the nicest one, didn't you? - We did.
Writing in a diary is going to be a really strange experience
for someone like me.
Not only because I've never written anything before,
but also because it seems to me that later on, neither I nor anyone else
will be interested in the chatterings of a 13-year-old schoolgirl.
The thing is,
nobody would believe that I'm alone in the world.
I have loving parents and a 16-year-old sister,
and there are about 30 people I can call friends.
I have a throng of admirers who can't keep their adoring eyes off me.
On the surface, I seem to have everything...
except my one true friend.
I hope I'll be able to confide everything to you
and that you'll be a great source of comfort and support.
- I'd love to. - Till tomorrow, then.
- Where are you going to go? - Just for a walk.
At least we can still do that.
Jews are forbidden to go to the cinema, you see...
or to swim, or go ice-skating, or use the parks,
or sit on public benches, or use trams, or ride in cars.
But we can still go out with a boy.
You go.
Why?
I don't want to look too keen.
What's happened?
Don't answer the door.
Don't let anyone in.
- But what is it? - It's call-up papers.
Father.
But they'll send him away to the labour camp.
Excuse me.
You dropped something.
Thank you.
You won't be going, of course.
- Where's she not going? - The summons was for me.
What?
Why didn't you tell me?
It's that friend of yours.
He'll think there's no-one here.
Why are they sending her?
- It's because I'm 16. - Why didn't you tell me?
- We thought you were too young. - Too young?
Annelies, sit down.
You must listen to me, very carefully.
We've been making arrangements to go into hiding...
Hiding?
Where?
We planned to leave in about ten days' time
- but we've had to change it. - Is it in the country?
I can't tell you yet, my darling,
but we have to leave early tomorrow morning and we have to move fast.
Darling, Miep will take you separately.
It'll be safer that way.
Now you must say nothing to anyone.
Do you understand?
Now,
wear all the clothes you can and pack what you can carry in your schoolbag.
We can't be seen to carry suitcases.
Miep and Johannes will collect the rest of our things later.
He's gone.
I'll take Moortje.
I packed the craziest things, but my brain was in a whirl.
Anyway, memories mean more to me than dresses.
Leave them.
We looked as if we were going to spend the night in a fridge.
I was wearing two vests, three pairs of pants,
a dress, a skirt and two pairs of stockings.
Ready?
I was suffocating even before we left the house.
Goodbye, Moortje.
It's here?
Your office?
I thought we were going to the country.
You must hurry up. It's late. The workers will be arriving.
Thank you, dear Miep.
So much has happened since yesterday.
It's as if the whole world has suddenly turned upside down.
When the door closes,
the reality is that we'll have to stay here until the war's over.
Well done, Margot.
That sewing machine... Hasn't that just gone to the menders?
There's that little table. I wondered where that went.
You sit down there, darling.
They're arriving. It's 8.30.
Now...
we have to stay
very quiet
until 12.30.
What?
What happens if we need to go to the lavatory?
Father's warehouse was on the ground floor, you see,
underneath his office.
The warehouse men who worked there don't know anything about us,
so while they're down there during the working day, we'll have to keep quiet.
Margot.
No looking out of the windows. No walking around in shoes.
No running the taps. No loud voices. No flushing of the lavatory.
I don't know how I'm going to bear it.
We can relax during the lunch hour when the men leave,
and after 5.30 when they go home.
The only people who know we're here are the office staff.
And they're risking their lives to look after us.
We're lucky.
We're really very lucky.
What'll happen to them if they get found out?
Now, let's get these unpacked, and...
make some lunch.
I don't think I'll ever feel at home here,
but that doesn't mean I'll hate it.
Father's brought some books and says we can have some games.
I've even got my collection of film stars.
Just like home.
What are you going to put on your side, Margot?
Don't know.
I know it's difficult, Margot, my darling,
but at least we haven't been separated.
So many families have.
At least we've got each other.
Cheer up, my love.
Can you smell smoke?
Edith!
Mother! It's all right, Anna.
It's only a saucepan, my love.
It's all right.
Sweetheart, will you go and finish your unpacking?
Please... Please.
Good girl.
Darling...
we're going to be all right.
We're going to be all right.
You stop this. Stop it.
That's it.
Now, come on. You must be strong for me.
You must be strong.
I don't know what I feel yet.
It's like being on holiday in some strange boarding house.
It's a bit damp and lopsided,
but it's probably the most comfortable hiding place in all of Amsterdam.
No, in all of Holland.
Daddy's right.
We're very lucky.
The first thing we have to do is sew some curtains so no-one can see us.
Slowly.
You can hardly call them that since they're nothing but scraps of fabric.
Most artistic, isn't it?
Perhaps we should sell it to an art gallery when the war's over.
We can't call a doctor, of course...
for obvious reasons.
12.30.
It's all clear.
Have some more water.
Miep, how wonderful to see you.
Have you seen Hanneli? Has she asked after me?
- No. I haven't seen her. - But you live opposite her.
Haven't you seen anyone from my school?
Did you get the medicine, Miep?
He's collecting some more Russian books today.
Where's he getting them from?
- I didn't ask. - You have a very brave husband.
And a helpful greengrocer!
I'll collect your shopping list at 8.30 each morning,
- and then try and come at lunchtimes. - Please do.
I can't thank you enough.
Watch out for your heads.
I had to lower the wall there to make the bookcase fit.
Nobody will believe there's anybody here.
Now our secret annexe is truly secret.
We're making ourselves useful.
Today's been fun. We've stoned three crates of plums for Mr Kugler.
He and Mr Kleiman are running Father's office until the war's over.
They make pectin for jam and mix up spices for sausages.
I've bagged the crates for our bedroom.
But we won't be alone for long.
Today, the Van Daans are joining us.
Mr Van Daan works for my father.
He's got a good nose for sniffing spices.
It'll be much more fun to have other people around.
I don't like the quiet.
It makes me nervous.
Welcome.
Are you all right?
Bumped my head.
- I'm quite out of puff. - What a lovely hat.
Oh, thank you, dear.
You know our son, Peter.
I've seen you at school.
What's that?
This is Moortje.
But we agreed. No animals.
It's not fair. Why should he be allowed a cat?
- I told you not to bring him. - You didn't let me bring Moortje.
He'll be very good. I'll look after him.
The dear boy loves his pussycat, don't you, sweetheart?
And besides, you'll thank us for it.
This place must be...
crawling with mice.
I don't expect Peter's company to amount to much,
but I suppose I'll have to put up with him.
Careful on the stairs. They're a little tricky.
Watch these steps, too.
This is Mother and Father's room.
And this is where Margot and I sleep.
This is Greta Garbo. I love her movies, don't you?
And that's Princess Elizabeth of England and that's Margaret Rose.
Are you interested in royal families, at all?
This is the bathroom.
You have to be finished by 8.30 in the morning.
There's cold water in the sink, but when the workers have gone home,
we can use the lavatory in father's office, downstairs.
And we can listen to the wireless there, too.
Come on!
Please, help.
I am.
This is the living room, but your parents will sleep in it at night.
Mr Kleiman's made them a fold-up bed.
This is your room.
Isn't it cosy?
Come on. Come up here.
And this is my favourite place of all.
We can make more noise up here.
And we're allowed to open the windows so we can breathe the fresh air.
That's the Tower of the Westerkerk.
Mother hates the bells, but I love them. They remind me of the outside.
I come up here when people get on my nerves.
Do your parents ever annoy you?
Mine do, especially Mother.
Can I hold him?
He's a bit shy.
- He's such a clot. - He's just shy.
Of all the boys around, we have to have him.
- I think he's rather sweet. - No.
You always think the best of everybody.
He's not used to girls and he's frightened.
- We're all frightened. - They had a very narrow escape.
This last week has been terrible.
Yesterday, they rounded up 700 Jews.
Our friends, the Goslers, you remember them,
they disappeared last night.
Please, let's talk about this later.
People think you've gone to Switzerland.
Your neighbour rang me, said you'd left in a hurry,
so I went round and searched your place.
That's when I found the note you'd left.
What note?
It had an address in Zurich.
I told him to destroy it in case anyone found out.
Next day, everybody was telling me you'd fled to Switzerland!
- Did you see my cat? - What cat?
She'll be fine, dear. Mrs Schmidt will be looking after her.
- Is she all right? - There is a war on, you know.
We've got more important things on our minds than cats.
Why did you bring yours, then?
Edith, where's that bottle of cognac?
- Cognac? - We kept it for your arrival.
I was really looking forward to having the Van Daans join us.
Now, I'm not so sure.
Welcome to the annexe, my friends.
We're very grateful to you, aren't we, Petronella?
Oh, my dear.
She'll be all right.
At the weekend, we get the run of the whole building.
Today, Mother sent me downstairs to do everyone's laundry.
Then she gave me another one of her lectures.
Take the opposite view on everything.
Every day, I feel myself drifting further away from her.
It's hard to believe that only a month ago it was my birthday.
We were so happy.
Father says I should be nicer to her,
but sometimes I want to slap her across the face.
You don't need all that stuff on your face.
- It's not stuff, it's make-up. - We have to pay it.
It's costing us a fortune!
Then we can't afford your cigarettes, but that doesn't...
My cigarettes are not a luxury, it's a necessity.
What do you want me to do? Walk down the street
to the apartment and pick up the make-up?
Who is it for?
It's only up here that I can feel free.
Soon, there'll be conkers on the chestnut tree.
Not being able to go outside upsets me more than I can say.
And I'm terrified our hiding place'll be discovered and we'll be shot.
That, of course, is a fairly dismal prospect.
And it's not helped by the Van Daans' rows.
What's it about this time?
Who cares?
It's always something trivial.
I thought it was only children who fought.
I just feel sorry for Peter.
Must be awful having parents who quarrel.
We're so lucky, aren't we?
Night night.
But next morning it was all sweetness and light.
I'll never understand grown-ups.
Last week, there was a brief interruption in our monotonous routine.
This was provided by Peter and a book about women.
Those are our sheets, Mrs Van Daan.
I'm keeping ours for best.
I don't think that's quite fair.
- What the hell's this? - Oh, give it to me.
Filthy, filthy boy! OTTO: Shhh...
- Filthy boy! - Hermann! Hermann.
There are bits in it about them selling their bodies on the street
and asking for loads of money.
At least it's got him reading.
- For God's sake, the boy's 15. - Exactly. He's 16 next week.
Someone's downstairs.
There can't be. It's Saturday.
Would you let Margot read this?
Girls are more mature than boys.
And we don't believe in too many restrictions...
Do we, Otto?
Peter's so pathetic. And Margot's a stinker, of course.
A constant source of irritation, day and night.
Thank goodness for you, Kitty.
Paper has more patience than people.
Scribbling again?
Can't I take a peek?
- No. Not even the last page? - No, Mrs Van Daan.
I nearly died since that particular page
contained a rather unflattering description of her.
Bathroom's free.
Thank you.
Despite it all, we're learning to live together.
Peter's even put up a cushion to stop us banging our heads.
This is Dutch Free Radio.
We have some important news from our Royal Family in Canada.
Prince Bernhard today announced that his wife, Princess Juliana,
is expecting a baby in the New Year.
A baby. Isn't that wonderful?
Now can we listen to the BBC?
I think it's great news.
Perhaps he's not so bad, after all.
In fact, we have one thing in common.
- We love to dress up. - Ready?
Actually, since the Van Daans arrived,
things have got a lot more fun.
Happy birthday, sweetie pie.
A razor! Thank you.
Oh, my little darling is growing into a big boy.
The girls had better watch out!
- My Zaniest Summer. - By Cissy Van Marxveldt.
My Zaniest Summer, eh?
That's one way of putting it!
Come on, everybody.
- No, no. - Oh, Hermann!
I see the seven of us in the annexe as if we are a patch of blue sky
surrounded by menacing black clouds.
But the clouds are drawing in.
Transcript: Chocolate Sync: Tagne