Page 25 of The Watchmaker of Dachau

‘I’m not getting anything,’ Isaac said. ‘Nothing.’

‘Apart from a nice little job with our Commandant? Maybe an extra meal or two? And what do you do for that exchange, eh? Tell him about some of us – what we do? You know, last night, two of our friends were beaten to death, right out there at roll call – which you missed. Don’t you think that’s a nice coincidence?’ The man came closer to Isaac, then took the last of his bread from his hand and ate it.

‘That’s enough.’ Jan stood now. ‘All my friend is saying, Isaac, is that if you are perhaps helping them for your own good, then it’s not too late. You don’t have to be like Adam, you understand?’

Isaac saw Adam, the Kapo, shoving an elderly man, whose arms were over his head in expectation of a beating, from the bunkhouse.

‘Do you understand, Isaac?’ Jan repeated.

Isaac nodded. ‘I’m not helping them. It’s just a job. It’s not my fault.’

Jan patted Isaac’s hands. ‘I believe you.’

‘I don’t,’ the hollow-cheeked man said. ‘I’ll be watching you, Isaac.’

The pair walked away from him and Isaac looked at his hands, which were now shaking from fear as well as the cold.

That afternoon, Isaac found that he wasn’t alone in the shed. After he had fixed the grandfather clock, Schmidt took him back to the garden and handed him a small bag containing wristwatches and pocket watches of all sizes and shapes, all of which were silent.

‘I’ll let Herr Becher know that you were successful,’ Schmidt said, as he left Isaac outside the shed. ‘He requested that once you completed your task, you fix what is in that bag.’

‘To whom do they belong?’ Isaac asked, opening the bag to peek inside.

‘None of your business. Fix them.’ Schmidt walked away, leaving Isaac feeling somewhat lost. He had hoped for something more when the grandfather clock had begun to chime once again, ticking away, the cogs and wheels moving perfectly together, the chime for midnight and midday ready for the hands to strike the hour.

If he had been at home, he would have taken a drop of whiskey to celebrate, and if it had been when Hannah was alive, he would have told her all about it, feeling as proud as if he had cracked a safe that held the King of England’s crown.

He opened the shed door and was startled to see a hunched figure wearing the same uniform as himself, sitting on his chair, his head bowed as he napped.

Isaac coughed, once, twice, then a third time, louder.

A man, perhaps the same age as Isaac, with heavy eyebrows that almost obscured his eyes, and lips white with cold, raised his head.

‘You’re new,’ the man said to Isaac.

‘I was going to say the same thing to you,’ he replied.

‘I’m not new. Rather, they had little work for me lately, but now I hear they can’t bear all the dead leaves and would like them to be removed. They like to remove things.’ The man stood and smiled at Isaac, which unnerved him as the smile reached the man’s eyes – no one he had known in this place so far could claim such genuine happiness.

‘What have they got you doing, then?’ the man asked.

Isaac lifted the bag. ‘Fixing these.’

The man did not wait for Isaac to show him; instead, he grabbed the bag from Isaac’s hands and began to take out each watch.

‘You know where these are from, don’t you?’ the man said.

Isaac shook his head.

‘From the camp. From our belongings. They’ll sell them, or gift them to the guards, you’ll see.’

Isaac took the bag roughly from him and began to place the watches back inside.

‘I’m Levi, by the way.’ The man did not seem upset at Isaac’s briskness. ‘And you are?’

‘Isaac. Are you going to be in here much longer? I’ve work to do.’

Levi suddenly laughed. ‘My, my, you sound as though this is your shed, your workshop. Good for you, Isaac, good for you.’