Page 23 of The Watchmaker of Dachau

‘No, Herr Schmidt,’ they answered, almost in unison.

‘Stop walking. Stand here for a moment, seeing as you are so keen to be in each other’s company.’

Isaac stopped and Anna moved closer to him, her body trembling with the cold. He wished he could put his arm around her to warm her, but instead he did only what he could and leaned back into her, so that they looked as though they were conjoined twins, both of them feeding heat off each other, both of them calming their fears.

Chapter 7

Friedrich

‘Eat your food, Friedrich, stop playing with it,’ his mother admonished, as they sat around the shining dinner table for their supper.

The silverware had been cleaned that day, Friedrich could tell; there was still a lingering scent of polish in the air.

‘He fixed it then?’ his mother asked his father.

‘He did,’ his father responded, through a mouthful of potato.

‘I don’t like him being in the house. What if he hurts us?’

‘He won’t, my dear, why would he? Besides, I will have Schmidt watch him tomorrow when he works on the clock. He says that he has figured out the problem and will need only a few hours.’

‘A few hours!’ his mother cried, and Fredrich looked at her, expecting her to have had one of her fainting spells.

‘Now, now, Liesl.’ His father stood and poured her a measure of dark liquid into a heavy crystal glass. ‘Drink this and calm your nerves.’

‘I can watch him?’ Friedrich offered. ‘I can. I can stand next to him.’

‘You’ll go nowhere near that Jew!’ his mother shouted at him. ‘Who knows what diseases he has, or what he likes to do to young boys.’

‘He’s not like that—’ Friedrich began.

‘And how would you know what he is like?’ his mother asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

Friedrich stopped himself from saying more, from telling them that he had spoken to Isaac about being a Jew and that perhaps they had got it all wrong. Instead, he cut into his meat and ate.

‘You need to understand, Friedrich,’ his father began, ‘that people like that man, and the woman who sometimes serves us, are not like us. They are here to do as we ask them, and it makes them happy – they want to make us happy. So, you don’t talk to them, you just tell them what to do, and if they will not, you tell me or your mother.’

Friedrich nodded and swallowed the meat.

‘Father, can I ask a question?’ he ventured.

‘You can. I will decide if I answer.’

‘Where does the man live? Does he live in the shed?’

His mother and father looked at one another, and Friedrich saw his mother shake her head ever so slightly.

‘They live in a town,’ his father said. ‘Not far from here. They live all together in a place that keeps them away from us and keeps us all safe.’

‘Can I go there?’ Friedrich asked, forgetting to ask if he could, in fact, ask another question.

A wail escaped his mother and she went limp for a moment in her seat. His father rushed to her side and helped prop her up, her eyes already open and alert once more. He pressed the glass of brown liquid to her lips, which seemed to revive her quickly.

‘Friedrich, you may not go anywhere but this house, is that understood? I will not say it again to you. You may go in the garden, but only use the side gardens, not the rear now that the watchmaker is using the shed. And as you’ve upset your mother, you may go to your room.’

Friedrich stood, his legs shaking a little. He could see the anger in his father’s eyes, hear the words that had come out of his mouth, so clipped and threatening that he knew to disobey would mean a severe punishment.

‘I’m sorry, Mother,’ he said at the dining room door.