Sowing The Seeds Of Love Part 31

There was a man in the new camp, another prisoner, called Viktor, although some people called him Dr Frankl. He was friendly with Uri's father. He wasn't an ordinary doctor, although he did know a lot of stuff and he could help you if you were sick or hurt. Many of the boys had sores on their bodies. Uri had one on his head. Dr Frankl looked at it for him one day. Uri felt the man liked him because of his father.

'Hold still,' he said, smiling at Uri as he examined him. He was from Austria but you wouldn't have known it because he spoke German so well.

'Have you had many dreams since you came to the camp, Uri?'

That was the kind of doctor he was. He was more interested in what was going on inside your head than on the outside. The question took Uri by surprise and he wondered if he'd been talking in his sleep and one of the boys had said something. 'Why are you asking me that?'

'Because many of the men have been having very vivid dreams since they got here and I wondered if it was the same for the boys.'

Uri told Dr Frankl about his dreams.

'Did you dream much before you came?'

'Not as much. And the dreams didn't have as many colours in them.'

Dr Frankl nodded. 'Hold your dreams tightly to you, Uri. Don't let them go. And don't let go of your dreams for the future. They're important too. You're a strong boy. You have your father with you and he's a good man.'

'Dr Frankl?'

'Yes?'

'Do you think my mother really comes to me at night?'

Dr Frankl looked at him for a long time. 'Yes, I think she does. I think your mother is always with you and always loving you, even when you can't see her. Her love is real, Uri. There's nothing more real.'

This thought helped Uri through the long, cold winter months. Because it was very hard. Sometimes a boy didn't get up when he was called and they couldn't wake him. They'd all be sent out to work, and when they came back, the boy would be gone and they would never see him again. At least working kept you warm.

Uri was worried about his father. He had a bad cough that wouldn't go away. It made him work more slowly and sometimes he got whipped. Seeing this made Uri very sad and angry. He arranged it so that he could work alongside his father sometimes and help him when he couldn't keep up. And he would make him eat all his own bread. Because of this Uri was extra tired at night but that was all right, because it meant he fell asleep straight away.

One night, he dreamed his brothers were with him. Even though they were dead when they were born, they were alive now and quite grown-up. They were still a little smaller than Uri but not much big enough to play with. His two brothers were quite different from one another. Jacob was quiet and shy. Oskar was noisy and laughed a lot. Uri taught them both to jump off the big rock into the river behind their house it was their home too, and their river. The boys had never lived in Ghetto. Sometimes he thought they were lucky to be dead but he didn't let himself think that too often.

Surely the winter would be over soon. There weren't many boys left now. Most of the ones around his age had already gone.

Uri's father's goal was constant: to reunite his family. For the four of them to be together once more. And for that he would beat his cough. For that he would beat the n.a.z.is.

Then one evening, the day's backbreaking work at an end, a guard came into his hut and called his number. He was taken outside, his limbs shaking slightly. Was this it? What was to become of his boy? The guard who had singled him out wasn't the worst of them, although they all followed the same set of vile orders.

'This way,' he said.

'Where are we going?'

'The commandant wishes to speak with you.'

For what possible reason could the commandant want to talk to him? Many possibilities buzzed around his head, none of them good.

He was led, not to an office, but to a house at the far end of camp. He'd never been there before. The unfamiliarity made him even more nervous. It was like any house you might see in an affluent suburb of a German town. Windows with curtains. Samuel would never have thought that ordinary windows could seem so extraordinary. The house looked incongruous at the edge of camp. Like a jewel in a cess pit.

The guard knocked at a side entrance. They were allowed inside and escorted to an inner door. The guard knocked once more.

'Enter.'

The guard ushered Samuel into the room. A thick-set middle-aged man sat behind an enormous desk.

'You are a gardener. Is that correct?'

'Yes, sir.' Samuel stared straight ahead at a spot on the wall. He didn't risk looking the commandant in the eye for fear of appearing insolent.

'And you were in charge of the gardens at the Palace in Berlin?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Excellent. You will look after the garden of this house. You will start today. You will be shown a shed at the back of the house where you will find all the tools you need. Any seeds and so forth that you require, you are to inform my household staff and arrangements will be made. Is that clear?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Go now.'

Samuel felt opportunity bubbling in his throat. 'I beg your pardon, sir, but may I have permission to speak?'

The commandant regarded him with a mixture of surprise and annoyance. Out of the corner of his eye Samuel could see the guard getting ready to strike him, should it be necessary. He felt the blood rushing in his ears as he braced himself for the guard's blow and the commandant's refusal. But he said gruffly: 'What is it?'

'The garden is large. Usually for a s.p.a.ce of that size I would have at least one a.s.sistant. My son, who is also in the camp, is my apprentice. We could make greater progress if there were two of us.'

He could feel the commandant staring at him. 'Why not?' he said at last.

'Thank you, sir.'

'Get him out of here,' he told the guard, then returned his attention to the papers on his desk.

'Heil Hitler.'

'Heil Hitler.'

Samuel kept his head down to hide his jubilation. Smiles weren't easily tolerated among the prisoners, not to mention seldom seen. Now he'd be able to spend hours at a time with his son, talking to him, protecting him, teaching him. And he could hold him. His heart swelled and ached at the thought of his boy. He was so proud of how Uri had conducted himself, working alongside him, taking up any slack, doing more work than many a man twice his size. Like Samuel, Uri was small but stocky. In a sense, he was a man now. How his mother would But it pained him to see how thin Uri had become. Viktor had expressed concern for the boy only recently. Samuel feared he would go the way of so many other boys in his group, that one night he would go to bed and never wake up. Samuel quickened his pace behind the guard. But that wouldn't happen to Uri now because everybody knew that the personal servants had access to better food. And he could easily grow extra vegetables and smuggle them back to the camp. For the first time in months, a ray of light shone into Samuel's grey world. They came to a shed, whereupon the guard stopped abruptly. 'You will stay here,' he instructed.

'And my son?'

'Will be brought here shortly.'

Uri felt the familiar sense of foreboding when his number was called. He ran to the guard and saluted briskly.

'This way.'

He'd never been to this part of the camp before. His head never stopped turning, looking out for his mother. He knew she was out there somewhere, loving him. They brought him to this strange house, except the house itself wasn't all that strange. It was just that it was so unexpected. He was brought to the back through a s.p.a.cious garden. By now, he was more curious than afraid. Then he saw his father and didn't know what to make of it. And his father's face was happy and relaxed. Not smiling, but the expression he wore sometimes that let Uri know he was smiling inside.

'You will be working here from now on,' the guard said, as he walked a few paces away and lit a cigarette.

'Is this true?' said Uri.

'Yes, it is.'

'Together?'

'Yes.'

The guard turned away as father and son embraced each other hungrily.

Harvest.

To forget how to dig the earth and to tend the soil is to forget ourselves.

Mohandas K. Gandhi.

40.

Summer deepened into autumn. The garden hardly noticed at first. But little by little, the edges of the leaves burned to an orange crisp. The gra.s.s slowed its hectic growth. Everything had bloomed. Now it was time for harvest.

It was also time for big school, for Liam and Kathy. In Aoife's mind, the terrible day had dawned. The great letting go. She fixed a bright smile on her face as she helped him into his brand new uniform. He stood in front of her, fully dressed and beaming. 'You look very handsome.' She tried not to cry. Privately, she thought he looked as if he was playing at being grown-up. Unnatural. Ludicrously beautiful. She had to roll the sleeves of his jumper up several times to find his hands.

Liam was too excited to eat his Weetabix. He was ready to go, branded to within an inch of his life with his Thomas the Tank Engine rucksack and his Bob the Builder lunchbox with his breaktime snack. She held his hand as they left the house and made the short journey to school. She wondered how much longer he'd permit her to hold it in public.

The school gates were busy after two months of abandonment, with throngs of mothers and maroon-jumpered children. It was a beautiful morning, which promised to turn into a scorching afternoon traditional for the start of the school year. At least they'd be off at lunchtime. Aoife planned to spoil Liam rotten that afternoon. Provided, of course, he didn't have too much homework. The thought appalled her. Surely five was far too young to start school too early to inst.i.tutionalize their precious little minds.

So that morning, as they neared the school gates, swinging their hands between them, Aoife's heart was heavy but her smile was bright. It dimmed, however, when she saw who was coming in the opposite direction. Kathy was resplendent in her new gear, flanked by Seth on the right and a woman, presumably her mother, Megan, on her left. She was holding hands with both of them, smiling up at each in turn. They looked like the quintessential happy family. Aoife felt the most extraordinary pang of what she was honest enough to name as jealousy. She knew this was ridiculous. Not only was Megan Seth's ex. She was also a lesbian. Which meant that it was hardly likely they were going to get back together any time soon. Unless Megan changed her mind again. s.h.i.t. They were all going to reach the gate at exactly the same time.

'There's Liam and Aoife,' Kathy squealed and, disengaging herself from both of her parents, ran to Liam and started jumping up and down on the pavement. They giggled, too excited for words. Their parents were a little more restrained.

'h.e.l.lo.'

'h.e.l.lo.'

'Aoife, this is Megan. Megan, Aoife.'

'Yes of course. Delighted to meet Liam's mammy at last. I've heard a lot about you.'

Did she mean from Kathy or from Seth?

The two women smiled and looked each other up and down a little. Megan was slim, pet.i.te and pretty. Exactly the kind of woman who made Aoife feel clumsy and whale-like. 'Lovely to meet you too.' What a liar she was.

They walked into the school together, the children chattering one hundred to the dozen. The high-pitched noise of all these little people speaking at once made Aoife feel as if she was trapped inside a beehive.

Liam and Kathy all but ran into their cla.s.sroom and descended on a pile of Lego in a corner. Liam immediately struck up a conversation with a boy Aoife recognized from his creche.

'It's best to go quickly if your children are happy,' the teacher told the gaggle of anxious parents standing at the doorway, her voice kind but firm.

Oh, G.o.d. So soon. Aoife went over to Liam and crouched beside him. 'I'm going now, Liamy. I'll be back to pick you up in a little while.'

'Okay, Mummy.'

'Have a nice time and be a good boy. Remember to say please and thank you.'

'I will.' He allowed her to plant a kiss on his cheek.

''Bye, then.'

'Bye-bye.' His attention was diverted by the Lego tower that the boy beside him was building. She got up and left, seeing that Seth and Megan were talking earnestly to the teacher. Perhaps they were explaining Kathy's unconventional living arrangements.

Was that it? She walked back down the corridor, feeling as though she'd just been disembowelled. She couldn't stop thinking of how today should have been, with Michael by her side, Katie's hand in hers. She felt her lone-parent status keenly. It had been so difficult, agonizing over which school to send Liam to. No Michael to give his ever-practical, ever-logical opinion. She hoped she'd made the right choice. Prayed she had. Do you approve, Michael?

She quickened her steps out of the school grounds, her vision blurring, wanting to get a safe distance away before the flood came. How embarra.s.sing. Liam was fine. He was happy. It was good that he'd reached this milestone a cause for celebration. Then why did she feel so wretched? She was thinking of herself and not of her son, which was wrong. So intent was she on curbing her tears, that she didn't hear the footsteps behind her.

'Aoife.'

She swung around and almost collided with Seth. 'By G.o.d, woman, you're a fast walker.' He looked at her face. 'Are you okay?'

She nodded, the first tears escaping.

'Is it Liam?'

She nodded again, furiously this time.

'Come here.' He put his arms around her and pulled her close. Her body stayed rigid at first.

'This isn't very English of you. Not very stiff-upper-lip.'

She laughed and her body relaxed. Then the deluge came. Seth held on tight as she shook and the shoulder of his T-shirt became soaking wet. A good five minutes they stood there, pa.s.sers-by walking curiously around them, long after, in fact, Aoife had stopped crying. She was afraid to lift her head. What now?

'Aoife.'

She burrowed into his shoulder.

'Aoife.' His voice was soft as he disentangled himself and placed his fingers under her chin, making her look up at him. She was embarra.s.sed by how red and blubbery her tearstained face must be. She badly needed to blow her nose.

'It's okay. Everything's going to be okay.' Then he kissed her. And not only did she let him. She kissed him back. But only for a few seconds before she broke away.

'I can't.'

'Why can't you? What have you got to lose?'

'Everything. If something were to happen to you...'