the women’s camp Gita curls up with her friends Dana and Ivana. A beam from a floodlight seeps through a small crack in the timber wall, and Gita strains to read Lale’s letter.
‘How many times are you going to read it?’ Dana asks.
‘Oh, I don’t know, until I know every word off by heart.’ Gita replies.
‘When will that be?’
‘About two hours ago,’ Gita giggles. Dana hugs her friend tightly.
•
The next morning Gita and Dana are the last to leave their block. They exit with their arms linked, talking, oblivious to their surroundings. Without warning the SS officer outside their block hits Gita in the back with his rifle. Both girls crash to the ground. Gita cries out in pain. He indicates with his rifle for them to get up. They stand, their eyes downcast.
He looks at them with disgust and snarls, ‘Wipe the smile from your face.’ He takes his pistol from its holster and pushes it hard against Gita’s temple. He gives the instruction to another officer: ‘No food for them today.’
As he walks away, their kapo advances and slaps them both quickly across the face. ‘Don’t forget where you are.’ She walks away and Gita rests her head on Dana’s shoulder.
‘I told you Lale’s going to talk to me next Sunday, didn’t I?’
•
Sunday. Prisoners meander around the compound singly and in small groups. Some sit up against the buildings, too tired and weak to move. A handful of SS roam about chatting and smoking, ignoring the prisoners. Gita and her friends walk around, keeping their faces blank. All but Gita talk quietly. She is looking about her.
Lale watches Gita and her friends, smiling at Gita’s worried look. Whenever her eyes almost land on him, he ducks behind other prisoners. He moves slowly towards her. Dana sees him first and is about to say something when Lale holds a finger to his lips. Without breaking step, he reaches out, takes Gita by the hand and continues walking. Her friends giggle and grasp each other as Lale silently steers Gita around the back of the administration building, checking to make sure the guard in the nearby tower is relaxed and not looking in their direction.
He slides his back down the wall of the building, pulling Gita with him. From there they can see the forest beyond the perimeter fence. Gita peers down at the ground while Lale looks intently at her.
‘Hello . . .’ he says tentatively.
‘Hello,’ she replies.
‘I hope I haven’t frightened you.’
‘Are we safe?’ She darts a look at the nearby guard tower.
‘Probably not, but I can’t go on just seeing you. I need to be with you and talk to you like people should.’
‘But we’re not safe –’
‘It’s never going to be safe. Talk to me. I want to hear your voice. I want to know all about you. All I know is your name. Gita. It’s beautiful.’
‘What do you want me to say?’
Lale struggles for the right question. He goes for something ordinary. ‘How about … How’s your day been?’
Now she lifts her head and looks him straight in the eyes. ‘Oh, you know how it is. Got up, had a big breakfast, kissed Mumma and Papa goodbye before catching the bus to work. Work was –’
‘OK, OK, I’m sorry, dumb question.’
They sit side by side but looking away from each other. Lale listens to Gita’s breathing. She taps a thumb against her thigh. Finally, she says, ‘So how is your day going?’
‘Oh, you know. Got up, had a big breakfast …’
They look at each other and laugh quietly. Gita gently nudges against Lale. Their hands accidentally touch for an instant.
‘Well, if we can’t talk about our day, tell me something about yourself,’ Lale says.
‘There’s nothing to tell.’
Lale is taken aback. ‘Of course there is. What’s your surname?’
She stares at Lale, shaking her head. ‘I’m just a number. You should know that. You gave it to me.’
‘Yes, but that’s just in here. Who are you outside of here?’
‘Outside doesn’t exist anymore. There’s only here.’
Lale stands up and stares at her. ‘My name is Ludwig Eisenberg but people call me Lale. I come from Krompachy, Slovakia. I have a mother, a father, a brother and a sister.’ He pauses. ‘Now it’s your turn.’
Gita meets his stare defiantly. ‘I am prisoner 34902 in Birkenau, Poland.’
Conversation fades into uneasy silence. He watches her, her downcast eyes. She is struggling with her thoughts: what to say, what not to say.
Lale sits back down, in front of her this time. He