Three Sisters (The Tattooist of Auschwitz #3)(106)

‘Come in, come in.’ Yitzchak ushers Ziggy into the room.

Livi notices he is smartly dressed. Maybe his new girlfriend chose those clothes for him, she thinks.

Ziggy nods at Livi and hands Magda a plain box, which she opens to reveal chocolate coins wrapped in gold foil. ‘And this is for you, Livi,’ he says, holding out a scroll of parchment.

Livi unfolds the sheet of paper and reads.

‘Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech ha-olam, she-asah nisim la-avoteinu v-imoteinu ba-yamim ha-heim ba-z’man ha-zeh.’

Blessed are you, Our God, Ruler of the Universe, who performed miracles to our fathers and mothers in their day at this season.

Livi feels a lump in her throat, and the room feels suddenly too hot. She mutters a ‘thank you’ to Ziggy, without meeting his eyes, and leaves the room.

‘But we’re about to eat,’ Yitzchak calls after her.

‘Just give her minute,’ Magda tells him. ‘Why don’t you offer Ziggy a drink?’

Magda finds Livi in her bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the scroll. ‘Are you all right?’

‘I’m fine,’ says Livi, holding up the parchment. ‘It’s just this prayer .?.?. no boy has ever written me a letter or even a note before, and when one does, it’s the beautiful Hanukkah blessing.’ Livi’s eyes fill with tears. ‘I’m confused, Magda, and I didn’t want to cry in front of him.’

‘Ah, Livi,’ says Magda, sitting down beside her sister, taking her into her arms. ‘There are worse things .?.?.’

‘Don’t say it, Magda!’ giggles Livi. ‘I know there are worse things than crying in front of a boy. I just wish you wouldn’t drag Birkenau into everything.’

Magda chuckles. ‘Look at us,’ she says, ‘laughing about a concentration camp. Come on, Yitzchak is starving – haven’t you noticed?’

Livi races Magda back to the dining room.

At the end of the evening, on the doorstep of the small house in Rehovot, Ziggy asks Livi if she will take a walk with him in the morning.

‘To talk?’ Livi asks.

‘To talk,’ he confirms.

*

It is a cool day, but at least it’s not raining. Livi takes her coat off the peg and steps outside.

They walk in silence for a while, waving at neighbours, bestowing blessings. Ziggy steers Livi to the park, where they take a seat once more beside the children’s playground.

She has to confess she is happy to see Ziggy again, and the prayer he gave her is a promising sign.

‘Ziggy, please, just tell me what’s going on with you. I want to hear whatever you have to tell me.’ She’s about to say she’s handled much worse but thinks twice.

‘Something is going on, Livi, you’re right.’ Ziggy takes a deep breath. ‘I want to marry you. I want you to be my wife.’

Livi is lost for words. Marriage. She didn’t see this coming.

‘Marry me? How can we marry, Ziggy, when you never tell me what you’re thinking?’

Livi knows she sounds angry and maybe she is, but when Ziggy hangs his head and stares at his hands, her heart melts. His gesture is enormous, overwhelming, and she wants to say yes.

‘Ziggy, I’m sorry,’ says Livi. ‘That came out wrong.’

‘Don’t be sorry, Livi!’ Ziggy’s hand snaps up. ‘Please, don’t ever say sorry to me. You’re .?.?. you’re an angel. I don’t deserve to sit on the same bench as you.’ Ziggy reaches for her hand.

‘Please, if you start that again, we have to say goodbye to each other right now.’ Livi looks hard at Ziggy. ‘You feel guilty, I know that. I even understand, but I feel like I’m being punished when you withdraw.’

Ziggy sighs, deeply. ‘Livi, I don’t know if two survivors can be happy together.’ He looks at the sky. ‘All that pain – sometimes it’s just too much. But I have heard you and if you’re willing to take me on, then I will try. I promise you.’ Ziggy’s eyes are beseeching her to say ‘yes’, and she can see he’s struggling, but still she holds back.

Will just trying be enough?

Ziggy pulls up the sleeve of his jacket to reveal bare skin. ‘As you can see, Livi, I don’t have a number on my arm.’ Ziggy hangs his head.

‘As you know, Ziggy, I don’t care. I don’t care if you lied, cheated and stole to stay alive – no one can judge us for what we went through. I just want us to be close enough to share our stories, whenever we want. And I’m not a saint or an angel – we all survived by doing whatever we had to do.’

Now is the moment, Livi sees, that she has to tell him what she wants, and either he will agree or she will never see him again.

‘I’ll marry you on one condition, Ziggy Ravek,’ Livi tells him. ‘That we talk about what happened to us whenever the mood takes us, that we tell our children and grandchildren what happened, that we never stop talking about it. We can’t hide this stuff or pretend it’s in the past and try to forget about it.’ She pauses. ‘Tell me, have you even forgotten one thing about the camps?’

Ziggy shakes his head. ‘I remember every second of every day,’ he says.

‘That’s a lot of memory, isn’t it? Unless we want to spend the rest of our lives trying to shut the door on something that nearly destroyed us, we’d better get used to the fact that the camps are as much a part of our lives as each other.’