Page 74 of The Watchmaker of Dachau

‘You leave him to me, all right? You go now.’

Anna did as she was told and ran across the garden to the shed. She found Isaac hunched over another piece of the car engine, his hands shaking as he tried to clean it.

He looked at her as she came in, concern on his face. ‘What happened?’

‘When do you think they will come, Isaac?’ she beseeched him. ‘Please tell me the Americans will be here soon – please tell me this will all be over?’

‘Come here.’ Isaac opened his arms to her.

She went to him, perched on his knee and let him hold her, soothing her until she found some peace.

‘Better now?’ he asked.

She sniffed and nodded, then climbed off his lap and sat on the upturned bucket, her arms wrapped around herself, suddenly feeling cold.

Isaac gave her a blanket, then said, ‘Anna, close your eyes.’

She wiped her face with a corner of the blanket, then did as she was told.

Isaac’s voice was soft, soothing. He began to sing the English words to the music Friedrich had played for them on the gramophone. His voice was surprisingly good and she opened her eyes to look at him. ‘No, close them and listen.’

Anna did as she was told. ‘Now, as I sing, imagine something wonderful, Anna, imagine a happier place.’ Isaac’s voice lifted and fell, his hand tapping the time and beat on the desk.

She imagined herself in the summer. She was in a large house with patio doors in the living room leading out onto a luscious lawn which ran all the way to a lake at the bottom.

The gramophone played Billie Holiday to her as she drank a cocktail standing at the open doors, looking out into the garden. Suddenly there were people on the lawn, small people, children. A boy with a sailor hat on his head being chased by an older sister who wore the blue dress from Liesl’s wardrobe – the dress so like her mother’s. The girl caught up with the boy and grabbed him – they tumbled and fell onto the grass, laughing and rolling over and over.

A man strode towards the pair and lifted the girl high into the air, then did the same with the boy. She knew they were hers; she knew she could join them and spin around on the grass, but something held her back.

Behind her there was someone else.

She turned and saw it was two people, Isaac and her brother, Elias, both sitting on a sofa stuffed with pillows.

‘Come outside,’ she said to them. ‘Come outside where it is warm. See, the sun is shining. Let’s go outside.’

Elias and Isaac shook their heads, and then they were gone. The music had stopped.

Anna opened her eyes, and saw Isaac doubled up coughing.

She went to him, helped him to sip some water until he rested, and some colour returned to his cheeks.

‘Isaac, I’m worried about you.’

He waved his hand in dismissal. ‘Whatever for?’

‘You’re not eating, your cough is getting worse, you have a slight fever.’ Her hand touched his forehead.

‘I haven’t smelled lemons, so I am not dying just yet.’

Anna narrowed her eyes at him – was he delusional?

He laughed at her, and then was gripped by another fit of coughing. When he settled, he sipped at the water. ‘I think I had that expression on my face when Levi said it to me. He said that when you die, you smell lemons in the air, and you know it is time to go.’

‘I think I’d quite like that,’ Anna said. ‘Lemons. Fresh and clean.’

Isaac nodded. ‘Get the papers, will you?’ he asked. ‘Let us see if we can ask our mysterious friend to provide us with some comfort.’

Anna retrieved the papers, this time holding them to herself, then flicking through the pages. ‘Here – this one talks of hope, of love. I shall read this.’