Three Sisters (The Tattooist of Auschwitz #3)(35)

The girls each take hold of a corner of the sheet. Yitzchak reaches for the fourth corner, his arthritic joints making bending difficult, but he manages.

‘One, two, three!’ Livi shouts, and the four of them take a few steps towards the centre of the sheet, pulling up the sides. The flowers gather in a large pile in the middle. Livi hands her corner to Cibi while Magda hands hers to her grandfather. The sheet is then pulled closed and with goodbyes and thank yous to the priest, they walk out of the gate, onto the footpath and towards home.

On the way they pass Lotte Trac with a white sheet tucked under her arm and her older brother, Josef.

‘Hope you left some for us,’ Lotte says, with a warm smile.

‘There’s millions this year.’ Livi laughs. ‘Absolutely millions.’





CHAPTER 15

Auschwitz-Birkenau

June 1943

T

he sisters enter their second year of captivity and Livi is clearly depressed. Most mornings Cibi has to drag her out of bed for rollcall. She refuses to eat, so Cibi has to push the food into her mouth, or save it for later. Cibi chides her often, and it only makes Livi withdraw further.

But this morning, it is Cibi who is unresponsive.

‘Livi! Wake up.’ The sisters share their bunk with two other girls, one of whom has a hand pressed to Cibi’s forehead.

‘Leave me alone,’ Livi replies, rolling away.

‘It’s Cibi. She’s burning up. Can’t you hear her moaning?’

Livi is defiant. ‘She’s fine. Just leave me alone.’

‘I think she has typhus,’ whispers the girl and Livi, finally, sits up and stares at Cibi, who is shivering beneath their single blanket. Cibi spasms, flinging an arm into Livi’s chest.

‘Ow! Cibi, stop it,’ wails Livi.

‘Can’t you see she’s sick!’ their bunkmate says.

Livi climbs out of the bunk and feels Cibi’s forehead. Her hand comes away wet. She turns to the girl, who is staring at her, expectantly.

‘I don’t know what to do. Cibi looks after me.’

‘Well, now it’s your turn to look after her. Go and talk to Rita. You’re lucky, she seems to like you.’ There is no malice in the girl’s voice: in this place, you take your luck where you can find it, and no one will judge you.

Livi turns away to pull on her clothes. She heads for Rita’s room, calling over her shoulder, ‘Will you watch her? I’ll be right back.’

‘Who is it?’ Rita sounds groggy, and Livi hopes she hasn’t woken her.

‘It’s Livi. Cibi is sick.’

The kapo is wrapping her hair into a scarf when she opens the door. ‘What’s wrong with her?’

‘It might be typhus. She’s very hot. And she’s not talking.’

Rita pushes past Livi and heads for the girls’ bunk. The girls stand back as she approaches, wary of the slaps she freely distributes should you get in her way.

Cibi’s teeth are chattering now, and sweat pours down her face and neck.

Rita reaches up to the bunk above and snatches down a blanket. She wraps it around the semi-conscious Cibi. ‘Outside. All of you,’ Rita orders the girls. But Livi doesn’t move. ‘I will mark her present on rollcall,’ she tells Livi. ‘She’ll stay here and if anyone asks about her, just tell them I needed her in Birkenau today.’

‘Do you think we should take her to the hospital?’

‘It’s not a good time, they’re clearing it out at the moment.’ Rita pauses for this to sink in and Livi understands. Periodically, the hospital is subject to the selections. ‘Now, go and have your breakfast and get to work. Behave as if it’s just another normal day.’ Livi’s heart is simultaneously hammering and sinking. Nothing about this day or any of the others is ‘normal’.

In the sorting rooms, she folds and packs men’s shirts in a trance. When anyone asks where Cibi is, Livi rolls out Rita’s answer. She is joined on her break by another white kerchief girl, who asks after her sister.

‘I think she has typhus,’ Livi says. The girl holds out her hand, the fingers uncurling to reveal a large bulb of garlic. ‘I found this in a case. Will you give it to her later? It’s garlic, much better than an onion for a fever.’

‘Our grandfather said onions were the best,’ Livi says, staring at the bulb.

‘Just take it. It’s as good as an antibiotic, I’ve heard.’

Livi pockets the garlic and thanks the girl.

As soon as Livi returns to Birkenau, she races to their block, to their bunk, where Cibi is no longer sweating or shivering, but sleeping.

Rita appears at her side. ‘I got some water in her, but she hasn’t opened her eyes all day.’

Livi pulls the garlic from her pocket and shows it to Rita.

‘Someone gave this to me.’ Livi bites her lip, then decides she doesn’t care if it gets her into trouble. ‘They said it would help.’ Rita nods and Livi raises the entire bulb to Cibi’s mouth and tries to force it between her lips.

‘Not like that!’ snaps Rita, grabbing it from her. She cracks the bulb open against the side of the wooden bunk. The cloves fall to the floor and Livi bends to pick them up. She watches Rita peel the skin off a single clove, which she hands it to Livi. ‘Like this.’