The sisters walk away.
When they are at a safe distance, Magda rounds on her sister. ‘Livi, tell me who he is. What was all that about?’ Magda is scared by the look in her sister’s eyes.
‘It’s nothing, Magda. He’s someone from the past,’ says Livi, trying to smile but failing.
‘But who is he?’
‘You can guess, can’t you? A dirty kapo from the camps. A Jew, if you can believe it, but I don’t want to talk about it. I want to forget he ever existed.’ Livi walks off to join the girls on deck, leaving Magda to trail behind her.
Livi feels lightheaded as the scenes of Isaac’s cruelty come back to her. Once more she is standing by the gates of Birkenau watching an SS officer hand his baton to the greasy-haired kapo, who proceeds to batter the bodies of prisoners returning to camp.
‘I’ll remember you, girlie. Isaac never forgets a face,’ he had told her, and she knows now that she will never forget his. But what really appals her, what has utterly stumped Livi, is the fact that he could have killed her just now, while she was too immobilised to move or to call for help. Is this her reality now? Must she carry this crippling fear into her new life? She may no longer be a prisoner, but will she ever be truly free?
The sisters walk past a gaggle of girls, giggling and pointing at a group of boys who are preening at their attention. Seeing it, Livi feels like she’s stepped back out of the camp and into daylight. This is normal life, she reminds herself. People flirt and gossip and do whatever the hell they feel like without being plagued by the dark shadows of Auschwitz every minute of the day. Isn’t it enough that she has to dream about Birkenau every night? During the day, she promises herself, I will look to the light.
‘Look at those boys,’ mutters Magda. ‘Peacocks.’
Livi looks at the boys. They are smartly dressed, wearing better than most in their refugee castoffs. The boys are eyeing the girls, grinning and waving, except for one man, who stands apart, leaning against the railings lining the deck. He’s looking straight at Livi. She averts her eyes, suddenly self-conscious, and when she glances back, he’s still watching.
‘Who are they?’ Magda asks one of the giggling girls.
‘The fly boys,’ she tells Magda.
‘The what?’
‘Pilots, technicians. Great husband material.’ The girl is still laughing at her last remark as the sisters walk away.
*
For the next couple of days Livi forces herself to join in with the others’ merriment, but Magda senses her growing discomfort.
‘I’m just feeling seasick,’ she says, or, ‘Magda, you’re smothering me. I’m not the “kitten” anymore.’
Livi takes to sitting alone in the evenings, at the front of the ship, staring into the horizon for the first signs of Israel. She hasn’t seen Isaac again and hopes that she never will. But, if she does, this time she vows she will call to the others. She will tell them what he has done and they will throw him overboard. Strangely, the thought of his body disappearing beneath the waves doesn’t make her feel better.
They pass through the Dardanelles channel and into the Aegean; Livi’s senses are overwhelmed by the colour of the sea, and overwhelmed again when they hit the Mediterranean, skirting the coastline of Turkey. Next stop, Haifa, she thinks and it will all be behind her: Auschwitz, Isaac, the death march, all of it.
As the sun dips below the horizon on the fourth day, Magda joins Livi at the bow. ‘I can see why you like to sit here,’ she muses. ‘It’s so peaceful. Maybe tomorrow you’ll be the first to spot land.’
‘I feel safe here, like nothing can harm me,’ Livi says. ‘Does that sound strange?’
‘A little. But you are safe now. We both are. Whoever that man was, Livi, you have to put him out of your mind. Once we land, you’ll never see him again. Now, let’s go and eat before it’s all gone.’ Magda stands up and holds out a hand to her sister, who takes it.
As they turn to head towards the dining room, they hear them before they see them: the Peacock Boys, as Magda has taken to calling them. They’re talking loudly amongst themselves, but it’s for the benefit of the girls who have gathered to watch this display.
‘Not this lot again,’ says Magda, loud enough to be heard by the boys and the girls. Livi’s laughter dies in her throat when she sees him again: the lone ‘fly boy’， standing to one side, looking at her. Blushing, she grabs Magda’s arm and they run to dinner.