Three Sisters (The Tattooist of Auschwitz #3)(87)

‘Not this lot again,’ says Magda, loud enough to be heard by the boys and the girls. Livi’s laughter dies in her throat when she sees him again: the lone ‘fly boy’, standing to one side, looking at her. Blushing, she grabs Magda’s arm and they run to dinner.

*

In the late afternoon of the following day, the port of Haifa looms into view. The ship is instantly filled with cries of excitement and cheer. Feet pound the deck in a restless enthusiasm to set foot on dry land.

And then the world tilts. Livi’s screams pierce the air as a gun explodes. She is immediately on all fours, hunkering to the ground as the joyful cacophony continues around her. She runs her hands over her body. Has she been shot? Did he get her?

‘Livi! Livi! What’s wrong?’ Magda is kneeling beside her. ‘It’s just some idiot firing his gun into the air to celebrate. Come on.’

As Livi stumbles to her feet the captain steps onto deck, and instantly the cheering stops. His face is red, and there is fury in his eyes as he raises a bullhorn to his mouth. ‘Who just fired a gun on my ship?’ he roars.

No one speaks, although the hands of all the men and women go to their pockets, feeling for their own guns.

‘I will not ask again,’ bellows the captain. ‘I will turn this damned ship round and take everyone back if you don’t come forward right now.’

A hesitant hand is raised in the crowd. ‘I’m sorry, Captain.’ The culprit, a young man, continues: ‘I just got carried away. I won’t do it again.’

‘Come here,’ the captain orders, holding out his hand. ‘The gun, please.’

The man steps forward and places the weapon in the captain’s hand. The captain pockets the gun and slaps the man hard across the head. He takes his punishment without a word.

The crowd is more subdued after that and Magda and Livi head for the bow of the ship, from where the port of Haifa is steadily growing in size.

They are home.





CHAPTER 28

Haifa, Israel

February 1949

T

he sun is shining as the gangplank is lowered to cheers of excitement and whispered prayers of thanks. It’s cool, but not cold. The port of Haifa swells with the new arrivals and quayside spectators.

Magda views the milling crowds with a sense of wonder. So many Jews and no one is about to round them up and put them on a train for their beliefs. They will finally be able to proclaim their names, and bare their arms without fear of reprisal or the taunts of anti-Semites.

‘Magda,’ whispers Livi. ‘Are you ready?’ She is gripping her sister’s arm; if she lets go, she might float away, up into the sky. But then the weight in her pocket slams her back down to earth. ‘Do you think we’ll be searched before we get off the boat?’

‘No idea,’ says Magda. ‘But if we are, then we’re all going overboard and will have to swim to port.’ Livi starts to laugh, and begins to tell Magda that would be a pity when the words dry in her throat.

‘Smart girl. You kept your mouth shut,’ jeers Isaac, standing before them.

Livi instantly feels the familiar dread, the pressure on her bladder, the fear, exhaustion and misery of the camp. Her hand is in her pocket, but instead of the gun, her fingers close around the small knife. She withdraws it slowly and holds it by her side.

Isaac doesn’t move. He eyes flick to the knife, to the other passengers crowding the deck.

‘If I scream now,’ Livi tells him in a low voice, ‘who do you think my brothers and sisters will believe? You or me?’

‘Don’t be a fool,’ he hisses.

‘Let’s try it, shall we?’ Magda says, lifting her chin.

Isaac’s eyes are suddenly wide and wild. He holds up his hands and backs away.

‘Where are you going?’ says Livi, raising her voice. But the kapo has turned round and is running for the gangplank.

‘You know, Livi,’ says Magda. ‘I almost wish you’d done it.’

‘What? Stabbed him or called for help?’

‘Both.’

Now Magda places her hands on her sister’s shoulders. ‘That is the last we’ll ever see that guy, Livi. We are not bringing him to Israel with us. Take a final look as he runs away and then we’ll forget him.’

Livi is breathing hard – the memories are threatening to rear up again – but she nods, wishing that Isaac was the only thing she had to let go of.

From the top of the gangplank they look down at the dock, wanting to fix this picture in their minds for ever. Before they can take a step, a young man pushes past them.

Livi tenses, but it’s just a boy in a hurry to get ashore. ‘Sorry,’ he mutters.

Livi is surprised to see it’s the lone ‘peacock’. ‘It’s OK,’ she says, grinning. The boy winks at her and then he’s swallowed up by the crowds of men and women spilling off the ship onto the dock.

‘Ready?’ asks Magda.

With a case each, their arms linked, Magda and Livi step in time down the ramp, pausing at the bottom.

‘Now!’ says Livi.

As the sisters step onto dry land for the first time in a week, tears spilling down their cheeks, their faces are turned not to the sun, but to the ground beneath their feet.

*

Standing in the crowd on the quay are two men dressed in military-style uniform, their berets bearing the insignia of wings around a Star of David. They wave to the Peacock Boys, who follow them to a truck adorned with the same insignia.