Three Sisters (The Tattooist of Auschwitz #3)(109)

The balcony is perfect. The sisters gasp in unison as they take in the garlands, the floral arrangements sitting in the middle of colourful tablecloths, and the canopy above their heads, draped in a heavy fabric featuring wreathes of olive branches. The rich aroma of hot food permeates the air, spicy and sweet.

Mischka and Yitzchak take charge of the children and Cibi and Magda escort Livi up the aisle towards Ziggy, who awaits his bride with an enormous smile. Livi hurries to his side, not wanting to delay the moment of their union any longer.

*

The third glass is smashed and the third sister is married. Shouts of, ‘Mazel tov’, and cheering, fill the air. The melee begins with feasting and ends with dancing.

Livi has never been happier, but then, of course she has. She remembers the sisters breaking away from the death march, tired, almost dead, certainly too wrung-out to feel much of anything, but that had to count as a defining moment, the beginning of their journey back to life.

Mrs Weizmann, now a widow, takes Livi and Ziggy aside before she leaves. ‘I want to wish you a long and happy life together. If you have a marriage even half as loving as my own, you will have succeeded,’ she tells them.

Livi hugs Mrs Weizmann and, for a second, she lets herself believe this is her mumma, here on the rooftop to witness her marriage, to share the love and good wishes of their friends, to celebrate her youngest daughter’s happiness.

When she draws away, Mrs Weizmann wipes a tear from Livi’s cheek. ‘I am sorry your mother isn’t here,’ she tells the young woman, as if she has just read Livi’s mind. ‘But you have wonderful sisters, and now a wonderful husband.’

*

After the last dance, Livi breaks away from Ziggy to find her sisters. They link arms and whisper a prayer for Mumma and Father and Grandfather, and in doing so, they renew their promise.

‘Can you feel their presence, Livi?’ whispers Cibi. ‘Because I can. I can see Mumma in her best dress and Grandfather in his suit. He’s holding a bunch of gladioli, and .?.?.’ Her voice breaks.

‘And Mumma is smiling, Livi,’ says Magda, squeezing Cibi’s shoulder. ‘It’s that smile she used to give us before saying goodnight.’

‘Usually it’s only their absence I feel,’ says Livi, her eyes shining. ‘But tonight, that space is filled with my happiness. I think that’s what you mean, Cibi, by their presence?’

Cibi nods, then looks at her youngest sister. ‘I was four years old when you were born, Livi, and I remember it clearly.’

‘I remember it too,’ says Magda. ‘Even though I was only two.’

‘You don’t!’ says Cibi. ‘How could you possibly?’

‘Well, I do. Father took us both in to see the new baby.’ Magda looks at Livi. ‘You were so tiny, like a newborn kitten.’

‘Don’t start all that again, it’s my wedding day,’ says Livi, laughing.

‘Well, Father let me hold you,’ continues Cibi. ‘I had to sit down in his big chair and he carefully laid you in my arms.’ All around them the wedding is winding down: guests are leaving and dirty plates are being stacked. ‘He told me that having a new sister is a bit like keeping a special secret.’

‘I don’t remember that,’ says Magda.

‘See?’ says Cibi. ‘You were too young. Anyway, with special secrets, you have to keep them forever, that’s what he told me. They have to live inside you.’ Cibi touches her heart. ‘There is nothing that anyone can do to make you give up your secret. And that’s how Magda and I were to keep you safe.’

‘You have kept me safe,’ Livi says, taking her sisters’ hands. ‘But you mustn’t give up now, OK?’

‘Maybe just a little,’ jokes Magda. ‘I mean, Ziggy might have something to say about it.’

‘Don’t even joke,’ chides Cibi, serious. ‘Husbands don’t stand a chance with us around.’

*

As she drifts off to sleep that night, Cibi recalls the day of Livi’s birth in even greater detail. Livi’s blanket was soft and yellow. Their mother, exhausted, offered her only a weak smile when she was allowed in to see her. Cibi worried she was dying, until Father reminded her that Mumma had delivered a whole baby, and she was allowed to be tired. She had sat on her mother’s bed, holding her hand, and Mumma had told her to give thanks to God in her prayers that night for the ‘kitten’. And Cibi had.

Just as she’s falling asleep, she recalls one more detail: while she was praying, her father had come into the bedroom she shared with Magda, and told her it was time to go to sleep, that God would be around tomorrow too, to hear her thanks. God would be around tomorrow too.

Cibi’s eyes flick open. She reaches for Mischka’s hand. God is here today.

*

The next morning, Livi and Ziggy are woken by the calling of the rooster, loudly proclaiming the dawning of a new day.

‘I can’t believe we live in a goat shed,’ Livi announces, looking around the windowless room.

‘I promised you it wouldn’t be for ever. You deserve a palace, fit for a queen, and that’s what I’m working towards,’ Ziggy tells her, pulling her close. He kisses each of her cheeks and then her mouth.

‘I would just like some windows,’ manages Livi, before she kisses him back.