Page 38 of The Tattooist of Auschwitz
‘Why not?’
‘I can’t. It’s too painful to talk about… and he was so happy to see me.’
‘Gita, if he loves you as he says he does, he would want to know you have lost your family. He would want to comfort you.’
‘You might be right, Dana, but if I tell him then we’ll both be sad, and I want our time together to be different. I want to forget where I am and what’s happened to my family. And when he holds me in his arms, I do forget, just for those few brief moments. Is it wrong of me to want to escape reality for a bit?’
‘No, not at all.’
‘I’m sorry that I have my escape, my Lale. You know I wish with all my heart the same for you two.’
‘We are very happy that you have him,’ says Ivana.
‘It is enough that one of us has a little happiness. We share in it, and you let us – that’s enough for us,’ says Dana.
‘Just don’t keep any secrets from us, all right?’ says Ivana.
‘No secrets,’ says Gita.
‘No secrets,’ agrees Dana.
Chapter 14
The next morning, Lale appears in the administration office and approaches Bella at the main desk.
‘Lale, where have you been?’ Bella says with a warm smile. ‘We thought something had happened to you.’
‘Auschwitz.’
‘Ah, say no more. You must be low on supplies – wait here and I’ll stock you up.’
‘Not too much, Bella.’
Bella looks over at Gita. ‘Of course. We need to make sure you come back tomorrow.’
‘You know me too well, young Bella. Thank you.’
Bella wanders off to get his supplies and Lale leans on the desk and stares at Gita. He knows she has seen him come in but is playing coy and keeping her head down. She runs a finger over her lips. Lale aches with desire.
He also notices that the chair next to her, Cilka’s, is empty. Again he tells himself to find out what is happening with her.
He leaves the office and heads over to the selection area, having already noted that a truck has arrived with new prisoners. As he is setting up his table, Baretski appears.
‘I’ve got someone here to see you, Tätowierer.’
Before Lale can look up, he hears a familiar voice, no more than a whisper.
‘Hello, Lale.’
Leon stands beside Baretski – pale, thinner, stooped over, carefully placing one foot in front of the other.
‘I’ll leave you two to get reacquainted.’ A smiling Baretski walks off.
‘Leon, oh my god, you’re alive.’ Lale rushes to embrace him. He can feel every bone through his friend’s shirt. He holds him at arm’s length, examining him.
‘Mengele. Was it Mengele?’ Leon can only nod. Lale gently runs his hands down Leon’s skinny arms, touches his face.
‘The bastard. One day he’ll get his. As soon as I’ve finished here I can get you plenty of food. Chocolate, sausage, what do you want? I’ll fatten you up.’
