‘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.’
Two young men of the Hlinka Guard are standing outside when Chaya opens the door. She shivers. The state police and, more crucially, the foot soldiers of Adolf Hitler, stand before her in their menacing black uniforms. They will not protect her or any Jew in Slovakia.
‘Why, hello, Visik, how are you? And your mother, how is Irene?’ Chaya refuses to show them her fear. She knows why they are here.
‘She’s fine, thank you .?.?.’
The other guard takes a step forward. He is taller, obviously angry and far more threatening than the boy. ‘We are not here to exchange pleasantries. You are Mrs Meller?’
‘You know I am.’ Chaya’s heart is beating in her throat. ‘Now, what can I do for you, boys?’
‘Do not call us boys.’ The older guard practically spits out his words. ‘We are patriotic Hlinka Guards on official business.’
Chaya knows this is rubbish. There is nothing patriotic about them. Trained by the SS, these men have turned on their own people. ‘I am sorry, I meant no disrespect. How can I help you?’ Chaya remains calm, hoping that they can’t see the tremble in her hands.
‘You have daughters?’
‘You know I do.’
‘Are they here?’
‘You mean right now?’
‘Mrs Meller, please tell us if they are living with you, right now.’
‘Livi, my youngest, lives here at the moment.’