and himself on his bed. No one comes in. Eventually he rises and takes his bag with him towards his evening meal. In the canteen he doesn’t place his bag at his feet as usual, but clings to it with one hand, trying not to look too strange. He suspects he fails.
Later that night he separates the precious stones from the money, the loose gems from the jewellery, wrapping them separately in the rags they came in. The majority of the loot he pushes under his mattress. He keeps a loose ruby and a diamond ring in his bag.
•
At seven the next morning, Lale hangs around the main compound gates as the local workers enter. He sidles up to Victor and opens his hand to reveal the ruby and the ring. Victor closes his hand over Lale’s in a handshake, palming the jewels. Lale’s bag is already open and Victor quickly transfers some packages into it. Their alliance is now sealed.
Victor whispers, ‘Happy New Year.’
Lale trudges away, the snow now falling heavily and covering the camp. 1943 has begun.
Chapter 7
Though it is bitterly cold and the compound is a mess of snow and mud, Lale is upbeat. It is a Sunday. Lale and Gita will be among the brave souls walking in the compound, in the hope of a fleeting meeting, a word, a touch of the hand.
He is pacing, on the lookout for Gita as he attempts to keep the cold from his bones. He walks in front of the women’s camp as often as he can without raising suspicion. Several girls come from Block 29, but no Gita. Just as he is about to give up, Dana appears, scanning the compound. Spotting Lale, she hurries over.
‘Gita’s sick,’ she says as soon as she’s in earshot. ‘She’s sick, Lale. I don’t know what to do.’
His heart lurches to his throat in panic as he remembers the death cart, the close call, the men who nursed him back to health. ‘I have to see her.’
‘You can’t go in – our kapo is in a terrible mood. She wants to call the SS and have them take Gita away.’
‘You can’t let them. You mustn’t let them take her. Please, Dana,’ says Lale. ‘What’s wrong with her? Do you know?’
‘We think it’s typhus. We’ve lost several girls in our block this week.’
‘Then she needs medicine, penicillin.’
‘And where are we gonna get medicine, Lale? If we go to the hospital and ask for penicillin, they’ll just take her away. I can’t lose her. I’ve lost all my family. Please can you help us, Lale?’ Dana pleads.
‘Don’t take her to the hospital. Whatever you do, don’t go there.’ Lale’s mind races. ‘Listen to me, Dana – it’s going to take me a couple of days but I’m going to try and get her some penicillin.’ A numbness sweeps over him. His vision blurs. His head pounds.
‘Here’s what you have to do. Tomorrow morning take her, however you can – carry, drag, whatever – but take her to the Canada. Hide her there among the clothes in the day, try and get as much water into her as you can, then bring her back to your block for rollcall. You might have to do this for a few days until I can get medicine, but you must do it. It’s the only way to stop her being taken to the hospital. Now go and look after her.’
‘All right, I can do that. Ivana will help. But she must have medicine.’
He grips Dana’s hand. ‘Tell her …’
Dana waits.
‘Tell her I will take care of her.’
Lale watches Dana run back into her block. He can’t move. Thoughts creep into his head. The death cart he sees every day – Black Mary, it’s called – she cannot end up on there. That must not be her fate. He looks around at the brave souls who have ventured outside. He imagines them dropping into the snow, and lying there, smiling up at him, thankful that death has taken them from this place.
‘You cannot have her. I will not let you take her from me,’ he calls.
Prisoners move away from him. The SS have chosen to stay inside on this bleak, dark day and soon Lale finds himself alone, paralysed by cold and fear. Finally he begins to move his feet. His mind rejoins the rest of his body. And he stumbles back to his room and collapses on his bed.
•
Daylight creeps into his room the next morning. The