The Paradise Ghetto Read online

  ‘I’ve been told I’m overstaffed,’ says Irena.

  Julia feels like the ground has given way under her. ‘Deportation to the east.’ What happened to her parents. And Suzanne’s. From time to time the Germans decide that the Paradise Ghetto has become too overcrowded. Their solution is to deport people. Apparently the last deportations happened in December just gone.

  ‘No – it’s not what you’re thinking, girls. Oh God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. One of you is just getting a transfer, that’s all.’

  ‘A transfer?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve been told I’m overstaffed which, as you know, is just about the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard. But such is life – apparently I am. So I’ve been asked to provide one person for a new project the Council of Elders – in other words, the Germans – has decided to undertake. You were last in so I’m afraid it has to be one of you. That’s the only fair way I can think of. I thought I’d let you decide.’

  ‘Do you know what kind of work it is?’ asks Suzanne.

  ‘I don’t. All I was told was that it was manual work. It would probably be more strenuous than what you do here but the rations would be better. You’d be out of doors, which sounds bad right now but spring is coming. Once the weather improves you’d be out in the air, which is healthier for you than being in this place. And when you’re out and about there are more opportunities – to find food. To find ... well ... more opportunities.’

  ‘I don’t mind,’ Suzanne says. Then she asks, ‘Will we still be living together in the same barracks?’

  ‘As far as I know.’

  ‘I’ll go,’ says Julia.

  To Suzanne, she says, ‘I’m stronger than you and don’t worry, I’ll keep whatever extra food I get and share it with you.’

  Julia’s new job starts right away. She is assigned to a gang of male and female workers doing general labouring work around the ghetto. She spends the rest of the day painting some of the rooms of one of the barracks. One of her workmates tells her that there are going to be important visitors to the ghetto and it is being smartened up for that. There is indeed extra food which Julia pockets and brings home to Suzanne who argues with her.

  ‘It’s not fair,’ she says. ‘You’re doing heavy work. You need to eat more.’

  ‘We both need to survive,’ says Julia. ‘That’s what matters.’

  ‘Promise me you’ll take more. If you just bring me one or two titbits now and again that would be wonderful.’

  ‘We’ll see,’ says Julia.

  What Suzanne is saying makes sense, but Julia feels responsible for her, feels – in a funny way – like the provider of the family. Their little family. The two of them.

  Chapter Nine

  Flavia Again (Suzanne)

  Birkita lay on her mattress, the blanket pulled up around her shoulders, knees drawn up to her chest. She didn’t know how much time had passed since Antonius had left her. She had crossed into a world of routine horror. What he had done to her had been the least of it.

  Her life had become a journey along a narrow path through a dark forest of horrors. There had been the Games, the voyage here, that day in the forest which she still couldn’t get herself to think about. And there would be tomorrow.

  She thought of killing herself. Or of killing Antonius when he came again and then killing herself. What she knew for a certainty was that she would never die for the entertainment of other people. So if she killed him she would then have to take her own life. All she would need would be a knife. That couldn’t be too hard to find. Maybe get one from one of her customers-to-be – charm him into giving it to her.

  For a long time she imagined how blissful the sleep of death would be. She would cross over into the shadowlands and be with all of those people she had loved in life. They were waiting for her. She knew that. Maybe they were watching her now and wondering what kept her there, why she had not already come over.

  She began to wonder this herself and slowly the answer came to her. Not until she had her revenge. Maybe on Antonius, but revenge for sure on the bull Roman who had tortured and killed her brother, his wife and their children. Little children. How could anybody do that?

  No matter how impossible it seemed, no matter how far away her homeland was, she would somehow find a way back. At some point, she would turn around on this road of horrors. She would walk back the way she had come, retracing her steps through this evil forest. She would go back to the land where she had lived but which was now no longer her home, just a place of death. She would find the bull Roman and do to him what he had done to her kin.

  Now, for the first time since she had been taken prisoner, she felt a glimmer of hope inside her. It felt like it was no more than a tiny lick of fire, a candle flame in a strong wind, but it was there. She felt it. And if it was there it could be fanned and if it was fanned it could grow. It would grow into a great blaze which would consume her enemies, the people she hated and who had wronged her so much.

  Birkita became aware that it had gone quiet downstairs and out on the street. Beyond the window there was some light in the sky. A cock crowed somewhere, distantly. She began to cry. It was the first time she had cried since the Romans had enslaved her. And now that she had started she couldn’t stop. The tears came in floods. So many tears. And she was sobbing so loudly that she didn’t hear the footsteps on the stairs. It was only when the door creaked open that she knew someone had come into her room. Had Antonius come back? But then she recognised the perfume. It was Flavia.

  She came to the bed and sat on the edge of it. Gently she wiped Birkita’s wet hair off her cheek. She began to stroke it and continued while Birkita cried herself out – until there were no more tears.

  When Birkita had finally gone silent, Flavia said, ‘He came to you.’

  It was a statement. Birkita nodded.

  ‘Come, you must wash him out of you,’ said Flavia.

  Flavia took her to the table by the wall where there was a bowl, a jug of water and a sponge. Flavia showed her what to do, how to squat down and wash herself out. Birkita did as she was told like a woman in a dream.

  ‘You must do this after every time,’ Flavia said.

  She led Birkita back to the bed and laid her down. Birkita turned onto her side. Then she felt the bed shake as Flavia climbed in beside her.

  ‘Come to me, beautiful girl,’ Flavia said.

  She turned Birkita onto her back and then towards her, enfolding her in her arms. In the dim light of pre-dawn Birkita could see that Flavia’s eyes were shining. Her lips were moist.

  Flavia kissed her.

  Julia finishes reading and hands the book back to Suzanne. They are in bed together – the eternal struggle to keep warm. Spring may be hovering but will it ever finally come?

  Suzanne looks into Julia’s eyes.

  ‘So?’ she says.

  ‘So our lovers are going to be two women,’ says Julia.

  ‘So it would appear,’ Suzanne replies.

  ‘You know, when I met you I thought you were Little Miss Innocent. The Bookish Virgin. But you’re not like that at all, are you?’

  Suzanne smiles.

  ‘I probably am. But when we were in Pompeii – my parents and I – I had lots of time on my hands while they were working. So I read – a lot. I was at that age. You know – I was curious. I wanted to know what the big mystery was all about.’

  ‘The big mystery?’

  ‘Sex. It was a big part of Ancient Rome.’

  ‘But you never got to try it out for yourself?’

  Not before I went into hiding. I hope I’ll still get a chance to,’ says Suzanne.

  There is a tinge of sadness in her voice. This is the first time that Julia has heard Suzanne express any kind of doubt about the future. She touches her fingers against Suzanne’s cheek.

  ‘You will,’ she says. ‘I know you will.’

  Julia wishes she believed it.

  24

  The pai
nting gang of which Julia is a part is working its way down through a barracks. They started in the attic and have now moved on to the top floor proper. The foreman has explained the delicate balancing act he is trying to achieve. They will go as quickly as they can so as not to draw the wrath of the SS. But also, it is still winter outside and who knows what they will be sent to do once this job completes, so the longer they can make it last the better. They are indoors, it is relatively warm and their rations are merely poor – as opposed to completely inadequate.

  Julia doesn’t mind the work – it is better than being in that terrible hospital. She starts, gets into a rhythm and after that her mind is free to wander wherever it chooses. Most days she thinks about the book – though in Julia’s mind it is ‘The Book’. She imagines scenes, dialogue, surprises they might give the reader. But today she is thinking about something different. Today she is thinking about Suzanne and how you can be so wrong about somebody.

  Julia really disliked her when she first met her. Suzanne had obviously had a pampered and happy childhood. She was a ‘privileged Jew’, to use that terrible ghetto phrase. She had travelled and seen all sorts of wonderful places.

  Why couldn’t Julia’s childhood have been like that? Her father travelled a lot. Why could he not have taken Julia or her mother with him? While he was at all those conferences or whatever it was he used to do, she and her mother could have explored, seen things, gone shopping. Julia would never have gone with him by herself but she and her mother could certainly have gone. Apparently when her parents were first married, that was exactly what happened. But after Julia came along those days ended.

  Suzanne hasn’t at all turned out to be the spoilt daddy’s girl Julia thought she was when she first met her. Julia sees that Suzanne is very grateful for all of the blessings that have been showered on her. She doesn’t take them for granted. Julia likes that.

  And Suzanne’s parents may have loved their precious daughter so much that they did all they could to keep her safe – which was another thing that Julia resented. But Suzanne has suffered – every bit as much as Julia has. More in some ways.

  She is amazing, Julia thinks. She endured two years in the attic without fresh air or sunlight. And she is so positive all the time, so convinced that they will get out of all this safely. And then it was Suzanne who thought up the idea of the book. Julia would be lost without that.

  From all of the rumours, the bonkes, even if only a fraction of them are true it sounds like the Germans are losing the war and that it will end this year. With the spring coming, Julia is starting to feel a bit more confident now that they can hold out. What will happen when peace comes? Will they have finished the book by then? And if they haven’t will they stay friends and finish it? Will they go back to Amsterdam? She imagines that that is probably what Suzanne will do – go back to Amsterdam to finish her university studies. Where will Julia go? Back to Amsterdam to be near Suzanne or somewhere else? Where? England? America? Maybe they could get their book published in America. It would be made into a film with Julia starring in it. It would become her route to becoming a proper actress. Wouldn’t that be something?

  If all of this hadn’t happened – the war, the Germans, their war on the Jews – then Julia would never have met Suzanne and there would be no book. It’s something to think about. Julia feels so lucky that Suzanne has come into her life. How unbearable it would be without her and the book. That reminds her – they really must think up a title some time.

  Julia’s mind drifts off to other things. She remembers what Suzanne said last night about hoping she would get to have sex. She finds it hard to imagine a man that would be good enough for Suzanne.

  Men.

  They have really fucked up the world. From her father to stupid fucking Hitler – and every man in between. Bert, the fuckers that arrested her and every man she has encountered since then. That stupid prick that they had to get off the pavement for.

  She tries to imagine the man that Suzanne would fall for. He would have to be someone pretty amazing, pretty special. Julia is not sure she could imagine such a man – what he would be like. And she finds herself feeling a tiny twinge of jealousy that any man would take Suzanne. Julia thinks that this word ‘take’ is a strange choice. What does she mean – ‘take’ Suzanne? From Julia? Or in the way Antonius ‘took’ Birkita?

  Lunchtime comes and goes and the afternoon wears on. Julia’s painting arm has become very tired and her stomach feels hollow. She hopes she won’t get a headache as she often does when she is hungry. These last couple of hours are the hardest part of the day – it gets dark and still the work goes on. She hates this going to work and coming home from work in darkness. She looks forward to when there will be more light.

  To take her mind off her discomfort, she tries to focus on the book. But she can’t really concentrate on it because Julia finds that she misses Suzanne. When they were working together, they could chat, they ate their tiny lunch together, they talked about the book. Julia would ask research questions and Suzanne would answer. They could see each other. Julia remembers how occasionally they would happen to catch one another’s eye across that dreadful hospital room and Suzanne’s face would light up in a smile.

  Then it suddenly comes back to Julia – how Suzanne held her the other night after she had finished the chapter about Birkita being raped. Julia had quite forgotten about it until now – how Suzanne kissed her on the neck.

  And this leads her on to the character of Flavia.

  With Birkita it’s simple. Birkita is Julia, just transported back two thousand years. But Flavia – where did she come from? She doesn’t appear to be just Suzanne in Roman times. Julia has a sense that she knows what the relationship between Flavia and Birkita is going to become.

  She wonders. And she is still wondering when the foreman calls it a day and she can make her way back through the ankle-deep, dirty slush to the barracks.

  ‘I missed you,’ Julia tells Suzanne as they eat.

  ‘I missed you,’ replies Suzanne.

  Apart from Julia’s new job, their living conditions have also improved. This, of course, is by ghetto standards. They have been allocated a space on a bunk. As a result they have moved from the attic to the room underneath. Here they have taken possession of a middle bunk. Julia tries not to think about what it means – that somebody must have died for this to happen. The two of them have to share it but it’s better than being in the freezing cold attic on a thin mattress on the icy, unyielding floor. The air feels slightly warmer down here. So they sit on their bunk now – Suzanne at one end, cross-legged with the notebook and pencil, and Julia at the other. With the bunk they have inherited another blanket, so each of them has one wrapped around their shoulders and the third one covers both their laps and legs.

  Julia watches Suzanne who is deep in concentration. She has her glasses on her head and holds her face a bit closer than would be normal to the notebook as she scribbles away. She is short-sighted. ‘At ten centimetres I have the eyes of an eagle,’ she told Julia. ‘It’s after that it’s a problem.’

  A stray strand of blonde hair hangs down in front of Suzanne’s face. She was thin when Julia first met her but she seems even frailer now. But she is so strong – inside. Julia always reckoned she was strong herself but Suzanne has a strength that seems to go beyond just being able to endure. Apart from that time that she first arrived in the prison cell, Julia has seen her radiate nothing but resolve and courage.

  As though she became aware that Julia was watching her, Suzanne looks up. She smiles a tired smile.

  ‘What?’ she asks.

  Suzanne’s hair is thinning from the poor food. Julia knows that hers is too. Her friend’s eyes are hollow, the effect even more stark because of the paleness of her skin. Julia imagines that whatever else about her, Suzanne must be aching to feel the sun again. Suzanne has perfect teeth even if they are dull from lack of toothpaste. She looks happy – but then she always does.


  ‘What?’ Suzanne asks again, her smile widening.

  ‘My friend,’ says Julia.

  Suzanne reaches across and enfolds Julia’s hand in hers. She squeezes it.

  ‘My friend,’ she says.

  25

  ‘So what’s Birkita’s plan?’ asks Julia, the following evening as they sit on their bunk.

  ‘Boudica’s uprising was in either 60 or 61 AD. It’s not known for sure. Let’s assume it was 61 AD. Also, that it happened in the spring or summer because that was when people did their fighting in those days. Let’s assume early summer when the British are defeated and late summer by the time Birkita has been shipped to Pompeii.

  ‘She’s going to learn as much as she can. She is going to learn Latin so she can get around. She is going to understand the geography of the world so she can figure out where she is and where she needs to get to. She’s going to accumulate some money. Then, when she feels she has enough, she is going to run away, go down to the docks, find a ship that is going to Britain and pay the captain to take her home.’

  ‘It’s a pretty thin plan,’ says Julia. ‘I don’t mean that as a criticism of you or us or our book – just that there’s lots that could go wrong with it.’

  ‘It’s a thin plan all right,’ agrees Suzanne. ‘She doesn’t have many options.’

  ‘Which of us does?’ says Julia.

  The thought makes them go silent. At length, Julia asks, ‘Do you think the war will end this year?’

  ‘If even a fraction of the bonkes are true then it will.’

  ‘Do you believe them?’

  ‘I try not to think about it. Just get through every day. It’s what I did in the attic.’

  ‘Imagine when it does,’ says Julia. ‘What will you do then?’

  Suzanne shakes her head. ‘I don’t know. Whenever I think of it, I try not to think of it.’

  ‘But what if we think about it together?’ asks Julia.

  ‘OK.’