Page 42 of The Tattooist of Auschwitz

She nods.

‘Now I think you’d better go back to the office so Cilka and the others can see that you’re OK.’

‘Mmmm. I want to stay here with you, forever.’

‘Forever is a long time.’

‘Or it could be tomorrow,’ she says.

‘No, it won’t be.’

Gita turns her head away, blushing, closing her eyes.

‘What are you thinking?’ he asks.

‘I’m listening. To the walls.’

‘What are they saying?’

‘Nothing. They’re breathing heavily, weeping for those who leave here in the morning and do not return at night.’

‘They are not weeping for you, my love.’

‘Not today. I know that now.’

‘Or tomorrow. They will never weep for you. Now, get out of here and get back to work.’

She curls into a ball. ‘Can you go first? I need to find my clothes.’

After one last kiss, Lale scrambles around for his clothes. Dressed, he gives her another quick kiss before leaving. Outside the block, the kapo is back in her position against the wall.

‘Feeling better, Tätowierer?’

‘Yes, thanks.’

‘The chocolate is lovely. I like sausage too.’

‘I’ll see what I can do.’

‘You do that, Tätowierer. See you.’

Chapter 16

March 1944

The knock on his door wakes Lale from a deep sleep. He opens up gingerly, half expecting to see one of the Romani boys. But two young men stand in the doorway, glancing this way and that, clearly frightened.

‘What do you want?’ Lale asks.

‘Are you the Tätowierer?’ one of them asks in Polish.

‘Depends who’s asking.’

‘We need the Tätowierer. We were told he lived here,’ says the other boy.

‘Get in here before you wake the babies.’

Lale shuts the door behind the boys and indicates for them to sit on the bed. They are both tall and skinny, and one has a smattering of freckles.