Three Sisters (The Tattooist of Auschwitz #3)(45)

‘Maybe seeing your cousins tonight will put you in a better mood,’ Chaya offers.

‘My cousins?’

‘Your uncle and aunt have invited us to have dinner with them.’

‘Is that because they know we’ve nothing to eat?’ Magda snaps, staring at the three solitary tins of fish.

‘We have food, and haven’t you just been shopping?’

‘Look at it, Mumma. It’s nothing!’ Magda says. ‘It would have been better for everyone if I had left with Cibi and Livi.’ The words are out of her mouth, and it’s too late to take them back. Her mother’s eyes fill with tears.

‘Ladies, ladies, what’s going on? I can hear you from the garden.’ Yitzchak enters the room through the back door.

‘Nothing, Grandfather, it’s nothing,’ Magda says, quickly. She doesn’t need an interrogation right now.

‘Magda thinks we would be better off without her,’ Chaya mumbles. ‘She wants to be with her sisters.’

‘Magda, is this true?’

‘Yes. No! I don’t know. But we have so little to eat. And .?.?. and you would have more.’ Her grandfather is half the size he was two years ago, and he was a slight man even then.

‘Stop it, Magda. Don’t you think we’ve all had the same idea? How is it helpful?’

‘I’m sorry, Mumma.’ Magda reaches for her mother’s hand. ‘I didn’t mean it, but, it’s just so hard. How much longer can we live like this? How much longer can I live like this? Hiding, scared of my own shadow? Worrying about my sisters?’

Chaya pulls Magda to her chest, stroking her hair. ‘Some linden tea, that’s what we all need,’ she whispers. And Magda nods.

‘Maybe Ivan will have some news for us tonight,’ Yitzchak says, hopefully, as he fills the kettle. Setting it on the stove, he stokes the embers beneath to life. There is no wood left, so they will have to settle for lukewarm tea. ‘Magda, I’ll need to collect some more wood tomorrow. Will you help me?’

‘Of course I will.’ Magda smiles.

*

Later, as they cross the back garden to Ivan’s house, Chaya pauses to look at the new buds on the oleander bush. She has tended this bush since she was a child, bringing it back to life time and again. Her family joked that as long as the oleander bush thrived, so would they. It is flourishing now, giving them all a little hope that Cibi and Livi are also flourishing.

After dinner, when her young cousins are in bed, and the adults are sipping tea around the fire, Magda breaks the comfortable silence.

‘Uncle, something’s wrong, isn’t it?’

Her uncle has been avoiding her eyes all evening. He gives a heavy sigh and nods.

‘This is the reason I invited you to dinner tonight: we need to talk.’ Ivan places his cup on the small coffee table and lays his hands on his knees. Helena, his wife, is staring at her shoes.

‘Ivan, Helena! You’re frightening me. Please tell me what’s going on.’ Chaya’s hand rests over her heart.

‘It is no longer the young they are after, Chaya. They are coming for all of us.’

A hush falls over the room as this sinks in. Yitzchak slowly gets to his feet and crosses the room to sit beside Chaya.

‘And where will they take us?’ asks Yitzchak, finally, breaking the silence.

‘I don’t know,’ replies Ivan. ‘No one does. But it’s obvious they now want to clear every Jew out of Vranov. Maybe the whole of Slovakia.’ He looks at Magda, who is staring at her mother and grandfather, her mouth hanging open. Helena touches Ivan’s shoulder and he turns to her, pulling her into his arms. ‘I can’t even protect my own family,’ he says.

Magda is shocked to see her uncle’s distress. He had always been the strong one, never thinking twice about entering government buildings to demand to speak to whoever was best placed to give him information.

‘Brother, as long as we stay together, we can survive anything,’ Chaya says, softly. ‘It’s time for you to stop feeling so responsible for us. None of this is your doing.’ Chaya’s voice breaks and she covers her face with her hands.

‘When will this happen, son?’ Yitzchak asks. Magda hears authority in his voice: he is now the strong one.

‘It could start at any time.’ Ivan has adopted the posture of defeat and, like his sister, elbows on his knees, he buries his face in his hands.

Helena strokes his back. ‘We should be packed and ready in any case,’ she adds, bleakly.

Ivan raises his head to look into the faces of Magda, Yitzchak and Chaya. There is guilt and shame in his eyes, and Magda’s heart breaks for him.

After that, there is nothing left to say, and the Meller family makes their way home. The moment they step through the back door, Magda races to the sideboard in the living room and begins to rummage around in the drawers. ‘Mumma? Where are all the photos?’ she yells.

‘Photos? Now? We just need to get some sleep. Please, Magda.’

‘Just tell me where they are,’ Magda insists.

Chaya reluctantly lights a lantern and, with Yitzchak, heads to her bedroom. ‘I’ll fetch them.’

‘Mumma?’ Magda yells once more. ‘Can you bring a pillowcase?’

‘What’s wrong with her?’ Magda hears her mother ask her grandfather.