Three Sisters (The Tattooist of Auschwitz #3)(4)

In the kitchen, Josef sighs as he watches Yosi throw a crust of bread at Cibi. Travel arrangements have already been made for this group – they will be leaving in two weeks. His training camp is working: eight groups have already left for Palestine – and yet here they are, mucking around.

‘If the heat of Palestine doesn’t kill us, your cooking will, Cibi Meller!’ Cibi’s attacker yells at her. ‘Maybe you should stick to growing food.’

Cibi strides over to the young man and wraps an arm around his neck. ‘You keep throwing things at me and you won’t live to make it to Palestine,’ she tells him, squeezing just a little.

‘All right everybody!’ announces Josef. ‘Finish up and get outside. Drill starts in five minutes.’ He pauses. ‘Cibi, do you need to spend more time in the kitchen working on your bread-making skills?’

Releasing Yosi’s neck, Cibi stands to attention. ‘No, sir, can’t see them improving, no matter how much time I spend in the kitchen.’

As she speaks, twenty chairs scrape across the wooden floor in the makeshift dining room, as young Jewish boys and girls rush to finish their meals, eager to be outside and begin training again.

Forming untidy rows, they stand to attention as their teacher, Josef, approaches, beaming. He is proud of his brave recruits, so willing to embark on a dangerous journey, leaving behind their families, their country, as war and the Nazi occupation rages around them. Older, wiser, he had foreseen the future for Jews in Slovakia and invoked Hachshara, believing it was their only chance if they were to survive what was coming.

‘Good morning,’ says Josef.

‘Good morning, sir,’ the trainees chorus.

‘And the Lord made a covenant with Abraham .?.?. ?’ he prompts, seeking verse knowledge from the first book of the Bible.

‘To your descendants I give this land, from the Wadi of Egypt to the great river, the Euphrates,’ the group responds.

‘And the Lord said to Abraham .?.?. ?’

‘Leave your country, your people and your father’s household and go to the land I will show you.’ They finish the sentence.

The solemnity of the moment is broken by the grumbling of a truck struggling to make its way across the clearing. After it pulls up beside them, a local farmer clambers out.

‘Yosi, Hannah, Cibi,’ calls Josef, ‘you’re first up for driving lessons today. And, Cibi, I don’t care what kind of cook you are, you must learn to drive a truck. Attack it with the same gusto you attacked Yosi’s neck earlier and you’ll be training others in no time. I need all of you to excel at one thing so you can help with the training here. Understood?’

‘Yes, sir!’

‘Now, the rest of you head over to the shed. There’s a lot of farm machinery inside which you will learn to use and to maintain.’

Cibi, Hannah and Yosi gather at the driver’s door of the truck.

‘OK, Cibi, you go first. Try not to break it before Hannah and I can have a go,’ says Yosi, playfully.

Cibi advances on Yosi and, once more, an arm goes around his neck.

‘I’ll be driving around the streets of Palestine before you can find the first gear,’ Cibi snarls into his ear.

‘OK, break it up you two. Cibi, hop up – I’ll get in the other side,’ the farmer says.

As Cibi climbs into the truck, Yosi gives her a push from behind. Half in, half out of the cab, Cibi contemplates what she should do. She decides she will help Yosi up the same way when it’s his turn.

Yosi and Hannah roar with laughter as Cibi, behind the wheel of the truck, grinds the engine into gear and bunny-hops down the road. From the driver’s window an arm extends, a middle finger raised.





CHAPTER 3

Vranov nad Topl’ou

March 1942

‘L

ivi, stop looking out of the window,’ Chaya pleads. ‘Magda will be home when she is well enough to leave the hospital.’ She is not sure she has done the right thing by sending Magda away. As ever, she wishes Menachem was still alive. She knows it isn’t rational, but she feels that the war, the Germans, her country’s capitulation to the Nazis – none of it would have happened if he were alive.

‘But, Mumma, you said she wasn’t that sick, so why is she still in hospital? It’s been days.’ Livi is whining and Chaya wishes she would find a different question for her mother. She has heard and responded to this one too many times.

‘You know the answer to that, Livi. Dr Kisely thought a few days’ rest, away from your smothering, would help her get better faster.’ Chaya allows herself a small smile.

‘I didn’t smother her!’ snaps Livi. Sulking now, she moves away from the window, letting the curtain drop to block out a world that is becoming ever more confusing and threatening. Her mother is increasingly reluctant to let her out of the house, even to go shopping, or allow her to see her friends, reasoning with Livi that the eyes of the Hlinka Guard are everywhere, eager to round up young Jewish girls like her.

‘I feel like a prisoner in here! When is Cibi coming home?’ Livi envies Cibi’s freedom, her plans to leave for the promised land.

‘She will be home in two days. Just stay away from the window.’

The loud knock on the front door sees Yitzchak scurrying out from the kitchen, where he was chiselling a star of David from a piece of wood. As he walks towards the door, Chaya holds up her hand. ‘No, Father, let me get it.’