The Tattooist of Auschwitz (The Tattooist of Auschwitz #1) - Heather Morris Page 0,57
of men entering the camp and greet Lale warmly.
‘Do we ask where you’ve been?’ Victor asks.
‘Best not,’ Lale replies.
‘You back in business?’
‘Not like before. I’m scaling it down, OK? Just a little extra food, if you can, no more nylons.’
‘Sure. Welcome back,’ Victor says with enthusiasm.
Lale extends his hand, Victor takes it, and the diamond changes hands.
‘Down payment. See you tomorrow?’
‘Tomorrow.’
Yuri looks on. ‘It’s good to see you again,’ he says quietly.
‘You too, Yuri. Have you grown?’
‘Yeah, I reckon I have.’
‘Say,’ said Lale, ‘you wouldn’t happen to have any chocolate on you? I really need to spend some time with my girl.’
Yuri takes a block out of his bag, handing it to Lale with a wink.
Lale heads straight to the women’s camp and Block 29. The kapo is where she always is, soaking up the sun. She watches Lale approach.
‘Tätowierer, good to see you again,’ she says.
‘Have you lost weight? You’re looking good,’ Lale says with the merest hint of irony.
‘You haven’t been around for a while.’
‘I’m back now.’ He hands her the chocolate.
‘I’ll get her for you.’
He watches her walk towards the administration building and speak to a female SS officer outside. Then he enters the block and sits, waiting for Gita to walk through the door. He doesn’t have to wait long before she appears. She closes the door and walks toward him. He stands and leans on the bunk post. He fears he will struggle to say the words he needs to. He arranges his face into a mask of self-control.
‘To make love whenever and wherever we want. We may not be free, but I choose now and I choose here. What do you say?’
She throws herself into his arms, smothering his face with kisses. As they begin to undress, Lale stops and holds Gita’s hands.
‘You asked me if I would tell you where I disappeared to, and I said no, remember?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, I still don’t want to talk about it, but there is something I can’t keep from you. Now, you’re not to be frightened, and I’m all right, but I did take a little bit of a beating.’
‘Show me.’
Lale slides his shirt off slowly and turns his back to her. She says nothing but runs her fingers ever so softly over the welts on his back. Her lips follow and he knows nothing more needs to be said. Their lovemaking is slow and gentle. He feels tears well up and fights them back. This is the deepest love he’s ever felt.
Chapter 22
Lale spends long hot summer days with Gita, or with thoughts of her. Their workload hasn’t diminished though; quite the opposite: thousands of Hungarian Jews are now arriving in Auschwitz and Birkenau every week. As a result, unrest breaks out in both the men’s and women’s camps. Lale has worked out why. The higher the number on a person’s arm, the less respect they receive from everyone else. Every time another nationality arrives in large numbers, turf wars ensue. Gita has told him about the women’s camp. The Slovakian girls, who have been in there longest, resent the Hungarian girls, who refuse to accept that they aren’t entitled to the same small perks that the Slovakians have worked hard to negotiate. She and her friends feel that surviving what they have should count for something. They have, for example, obtained casual clothing from the Canada. No more blue-and-white striped pyjamas for them. And they are not prepared to share. The SS do not take sides when fights break out; all involved are punished with an equal lack of mercy: denied their meagre food rations; they might be flogged, sometimes just the one blow with a rifle butt or swagger stick, at other times they are beaten savagely, while their fellow prisoners are forced to look on.
Gita and Dana keep well clear of any fights. Gita has enough issues dealing with petty jealousies over her job in the administration building, her friendship with the seemingly protected Cilka and, of course, visits from her boyfriend, the Tätowierer.
Lale is largely immune to the camp disputes. Working with Leon and only a handful of other prisoners alongside the SS, he is removed from the plight of the thousands of starving men who must work and fight and live and die together. Living among the Romani also gives him a sense of security and belonging. He realises he has settled into a pattern of life that is comfortable relative to the conditions of the majority. He works when he