Page 62 of The Watchmaker of Dachau

‘Oh, this,’ Liesl waved the cigarette, ‘I used to smoke, when I was young. But then I stopped because my husband said that it was common.’ She grinned again, showing some lipstick on her teeth, then took a deep drag and blew out a plume.

‘Would you like something to eat?’ Anna tried, her hand on the brass doorknob now, waiting to turn it and leave.

‘They all wanted me.’ Liesl looked through the smoke as if she were looking back on a memory contained there. ‘All of them. Lawyers, nobles, wealthy, powerful men. But then, I fell in love. Have you been in love?’

Anna didn’t answer.

‘Well, look at you!’ Liesl tipped her head back and laughed. ‘Those arms like spindles, your chest flat as a child. But me, I was the stunning one. I was the one who was slim, but not too slim.’ Liesl tapped the ash on the floor, then smudged it with a big toe that had chipped red nail polish. ‘He loved that about me – couldn’t get enough. Thank God the Führer came to power when he did – made him a rising star! Before that, he was plain, but soon he grew in confidence, and I grew towards that as a sunflower seeks out the sun. But then, all things good must change. Friedrich changed it. He… didn’t see me as before anymore, he dare not touch me for a year after the birth. I was a mother, you see – I had ceased to be the new bride. I was just a mother.’

‘Friedrich loves you,’ Anna said, sure that she needed to say something about the boy.

‘Does he?’ Liesl looked surprised now, and ground out her cigarette on her dressing table. ‘He looks at me with those sad eyes, and I can’t bear it. It’s as if he wants something from me all the time. I carried him in my body, gave him life – is that not enough?’

Liesl stood and walked to the mirror once more, running her hands over her hips, tilting her head to the side. ‘I must find something to wear,’ she muttered to herself.

Anna took this as a signal to leave and quickly departed, her breath coming quick as soon as she was out of that room. She decided that Greta should take the coffee to Liesl next – she could not do it again.

That afternoon, Anna found her thoughts turning towards Piotr, but in her mind’s eye his features were mingled with Isaac’s, his voice Isaac’s too. She tried to concentrate on polishing the windows in the dining room, now and then allowing herself to look out into the garden. As she did, she saw a robin that flitted from branch to branch, singing a song, his red breast thrust out proudly. She swallowed, then opened the window a crack and called to the bird. He flew closer to her, sitting on the edge of a stone planter, his wings twitching as his tiny black eyes looked at her.

‘Piotr?’ she whispered.

The bird twitched once more, then let out a quick trill before flying off into a thicket of trees.

Closing the window, she sat on the window seat, feeling foolish for talking to the bird – Piotr’s favourite. If her mother were here, she would tell her that it was a sign – that Piotr had come to let her know he was all right, that it was good she was replacing his face in her mind with someone else’s.

A small ball of anger surged in Anna’s chest – something she could not quell completely. He had left her to work with the resistance and by doing so had been shot in a raid, leaving her without him, without anyone. Then, she saw a figure move in the garden – Isaac – who walked slowly around the shed, stopping at a sprig of daffodils to touch their petals. Then he walked back to the shed, and Anna did not feel completely alone.

That evening, the camp was unusually quiet. Anna was led to her bunkhouse in the dark, some of the floodlights switched off. She tripped on what she thought was a stone or twig, but when she looked down, she saw that it was a foot protruding in all its whiteness from a heap of bodies that had been dumped.

Nina had stayed awake for her, and climbed into her bunk as soon as she could.

‘They’re coming.’ Anna could see her grin, even in the gloom. ‘That’s why the lights are out – we’ve been hearing the bombs drop all day. They’re really coming, Anna.’

Anna felt some of her hopefulness fall away as the reality of their present thrust itself into her mind – the bodies outside, the fact that they were still here, the hunger and the tiredness that plagued them all.

‘Just think, we can plan now – what it will be like when we leave. Remember we used to talk about how I would be a dancer?’ Nina continued.

Anna nodded, remembering. That’s all they had done. Remember their past, try to ignore it, try to get through each day. But now, Anna felt fear instead of the hope that oozed through Nina’s every pore.

‘What is that saying?’ Anna mumbled. ‘The calm before the storm.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean it may get worse before it gets better.’

‘How can it get worse? We didn’t even get counted tonight – imagine that! They’re giving up, Anna, I can tell. Then soon we can find Kuba, and you …’ Nina tailed off.

‘I will find someone,’ Anna said, thinking of Isaac.

‘Not someone.’ Nina hugged her, held her close. ‘You will have me; we will have each other.’

Chapter 22

Friedrich

Mother was acting strangely – this Friedrich knew. At first it had scared him, seeing her half dressed for dinner, or wandering about the hallways with a cigarette in her hand, her nightdress askew. But now, it had become almost comforting. She did not shout at him when she was like this – she barely even noticed that he was there.

So on the day he asked her to open the bedroom doors opposite his own, the ones that had windows looking out into the garden, she simply handed him the key, her eyes glassy and uninterested.