Page 31 of The Watchmaker of Dachau

‘But the secret you, she’s changed. After this you won’t be like before, you will be different.’

‘My darling Nina.’ Anna wanted to laugh. ‘You do surprise me sometimes. Perhaps you should study philosophy when you are free.’

‘And not dance? I hardly think so!’

‘You could be a dancing philosopher!’

The two women giggled, and someone hushed them. They lay in silence for a little while.

‘I keep thinking of my brother Kuba.’ Nina’s whisper was barely audible. ‘I can’t help thinking that maybe he is dead.’

‘Hush. No, he is not. You know he was working just months ago, and was safe.’

‘The pyres were burning again. I have nightmares that he was in them.’

‘Things have changed, Nina. The guards seem on edge, the work is harder and the hours longer. How could he possibly get word to you at the moment? It would be impossible. Trust me. He is fine, Nina. He must be.’

Anna allowed Nina to turn away from her so she could place her arm around her waist, the two of them fitting together like two pieces of the same puzzle.

There was silence, then Nina whispered, ‘Tell me about Elias.’

‘You know about him.’

‘I know. But if you tell me maybe it will help, maybe you will feel close to him again and that will help you through to the end?’

‘There is nothing to say, Nina.’

‘You never talk about how it happened. It’s as if he just disappeared.’

‘He did.’

‘But how?’

‘Why do you want to know, Nina? Why?’ Anna’s voice was harsh now.

‘I just – I miss Kuba. I don’t know. I want to know so if he is dead, if he isn’t coming back to me, then I’ll know I can cope, because you did.’

Anna’s mind had been trying to avoid her brother for months, yet it was as if he were always just on the periphery, waiting for her, begging her to think of him. She scrunched her eyes closed. ‘I can’t, Nina, I can’t say it out loud.’

Nina did not answer, and Anna waited until she could hear Nina’s breathing settle; only then did she allow herself to remember her brother.

Elias had been funny. He always joked – trying to find the humour in things. Even when they came for them in the middle of the night, and they had to pack just one bag each, he still tried to make Mother smile and make Anna laugh.

‘It’s like an adventure,’ he had said, as they walked towards the train station amongst a throng of others that shuffled along the pavement like ants, simply following the leader. ‘Just think, we can tell this story when we are old and grey, Anna. You will tell my grandchildren how I did a funny walk to try and make Mother smile, and I will tell your grandchildren how you were so brave.’

Seeing that her mother’s eyes were downcast, as if she could not bear to look ahead of her to see where her journey would take her, Anna had held her mother’s hand.

‘Remember that day when we were flying kites on that hill?’ Elias asked, trying to get her to think of something else.

She did remember.

‘It was that red kite we had drawn a face on, and the wind took it so I ran down the hill as fast as I could, trying to catch it, and I fell. Do you remember that, Anna – how I fell and tumbled and you came running after me, and when you reached me I was in a heap, laughing and laughing, and you laughed too… remember that, Anna?’

She looked at her brother then and realised how scared he really was, how the memories he was trying to locate were not really for her or Mother, but for him.

‘I remember,’ she told him, and forced a smile. ‘And remember that time you ripped your trousers on a tree branch, and we had to walk through town to get home and everyone was staring at you? Yet instead of being embarrassed, you told anyone who would listen it was old man Müller who had gone rabid and tried to bite you, ripping your trousers in the process?’

Elias grinned. ‘He never forgave me for that.’