The Tattooist of Auschwitz (The Tattooist of Auschwitz #1) - Heather Morris Page 0,71
the chalet. They are holding hands, wearing resolute expressions and occasionally laughing.
‘I’ll take what’s left over,’ Fredrich says, standing close to Lale.
Lale takes several notes and a couple of pieces of jewellery from his pockets and hands them to Fredrich, who seems satisfied the transactions have been carried out correctly. Fredrich pockets the goods, then sets about patting Lale down, digging his hands deep into his pockets.
‘Hey, careful,’ says Lale. ‘I don’t know you that well!’
‘You’re not my type.’
•
The kitchen must have been told about his return as his supper arrives shortly after Lale has entered his room. He eats and then walks out onto the balcony. Leaning on the balustrade, he watches the comings and goings of vehicles. Occasionally the sound of the partying below filters up to him and he is pleased that he hears only laughter and conversation. Back in his room, he begins to undress for bed. Fiddling around in the cuff of his trousers, he finds the small diamond he has placed there. He takes a single sock out of the drawer and stuffs the diamond into it before retiring for the night.
He is woken a few hours later by laughter and chatter coming through his balcony doors. He steps outside and watches as the girls clamber aboard the truck for the trip home. Most seem intoxicated but none look distressed. He goes back to bed.
•
For the next several weeks Lale and Fredrich make their twice-daily trips into the village. He becomes well known there; even women who never come to the chalet know who he is and greet him in passing. The boutique and the cafe are his two favourite places and soon girls gather there at the time they know he will arrive. He is often greeted by his regulars with a kiss on the cheek and a request for him to join the partying that night. They seem genuinely upset that he never does.
One day in the cafe, Serena, a waitress there, says loudly, ‘Lale, will you marry me when the war is over?’ The other girls there giggle, and the older women tut.
‘She’s fallen for you, Lale. She doesn’t want any of those Russian pigs no matter how much money they have,’ one of the customers adds.
‘You are a very beautiful girl, Serena, but I’m afraid my heart belongs to someone else.’
‘Who? What’s her name?’ asks Serena indignantly.
‘Her name is Gita and I am promised to her. I love her.’
‘Is she waiting for you? Where is she?’
‘I don’t know where she is right now, but I’ll find her.’
‘How do you even know if she’s alive?’
‘Oh, she’s alive. Have you ever just known something?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘Then you’ve never been in love. I’ll see you girls later. Six o’clock. Don’t be late.’
A chorus of goodbyes follows him out the door.
•
That night, as Lale adds a large ruby to his war chest, a terrible homesickness overtakes him. He sits on his bed for a long time. His memories of home have been tainted by his memories of the war. Everything and everyone he cared for is now only visible to him through glasses darkened by suffering and loss. When he manages to pull himself together, he empties the sock onto his bed and counts the gems he has managed to smuggle over the weeks. Then he wanders out onto the balcony. The nights are getting warmer and several of the partygoers are out on the lawn, some lounging about, others playing a kind of chase game. A knock on his bedroom door startles him. Since the first night, Lale has locked his door whether he is in the room or not. Rushing to open the door, Lale sees the gems on his bed and quickly pulls the covers over them. He doesn’t spot the latest ruby falling onto the floor.
‘Why was your door locked?’ Fredrich asks.
‘I do not want to find myself sharing my bed with one of your colleagues, several of whom I have observed have no interest in the girls we bring them.’
‘I see. You are a good-looking man. You know they would reward you handsomely if you were so inclined.’
‘I’m not.’
‘Would you like one of the girls? They’ve already been paid.’
‘No, thanks.’
Fredrich’s eye is caught by a sparkling from the rug. He bends down and picks up the ruby. ‘And what is this?’
Lale looks at the gem, surprised.
‘Can you explain why you’ve got this, Lale?’
‘It must have got caught in the lining of my pocket.’