The Storyteller of Auschwitz by Siobhan Curham

Author:Siobhan Curham [Curham, Siobhan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781837902491
Published: 2023-07-12T23:00:00+00:00

18

SEPTEMBER 1942, AUSCHWITZ

The next few weeks passed in a haze of hunger and exhaustion. Macaroon, Danielle and I formed a tight knot, a family of sorts, and no matter what horrors we encountered during the day in the Valley of Death, as Macaroon called the camp, at night in our bunks we were able to regroup. Macaroon and I shared stories from our lives – it turned out that Macaroon had been the owner of an art gallery in Montparnasse and she’d been arrested when the French police discovered she’d still been hosting private viewings in spite of the ban on Jewish people owning businesses. We both spoke of our teenage years in an attempt to draw Danielle from the shell she’d retreated into since her mother’s disappearance. Sadly, she wouldn’t take the bait – not even when I shared the hilarious tale of how I’d sprained both my ankles wearing a pair of high-heeled Mary Janes at the age of thirteen, trying, and hopelessly failing, to impress a boy – and remained largely silent, but I hoped that our tales would give her some solace and distraction at least. Although how I could distract her from the ever-present chimneys belching their hideous smoke over the camp was beyond me.

Every day, I gave thanks that fate had caused Macaroon and I to cross paths. She was like the wise-cracking big sister I’d always longed to have and her dry sense of humour and warm heart were such a tonic. I loved the way we were able to spark off each other.

But then one humid day in August, Macaroon lost her spark. From the moment we were yelled at for roll call, she seemed flat. Of course, I didn’t think too much of it at first – being wrenched from sleep at 3.30 every morning is hardly a recipe for feeling chipper. But when Macaroon barely uttered a word on the way to our work detail, I got the first hint that something was amiss. Normally, we would engage in a sarcastic commentary en route, muttering things like, ‘I hear the architecture around here is known as barracks chic, such an improvement on Art Deco,’ and ‘Isn’t it kind of our hosts to protect us from their watchtowers.’ It was as much for Danielle’s benefit as our own, but that day I couldn’t get a peep from Macaroon. Every time I asked her if she was all right, she nodded, but from the way she was biting her bottom lip, it seemed she was fighting back tears. It wasn’t until we were back in our bunks at the end of the day that I was able to question her properly.

‘Macaroon, please tell me what’s wrong; I’m worried about you,’ I called up to the bunk above. Although Danielle didn’t say a word, I could tell from her anxious expression that she was concerned too.

‘What if we never get out of this place?’ Macaroon replied. ‘What if we never get the chance to…’ She broke off.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.