Page 87 of The Watchmaker of Dachau

I never spoke to you of my son, but I wanted you to know that you are very much like he was – kind, thoughtful and intelligent. I hope that our friendship has given you hope and shown you that there will always be someone who can be a part of your life, sometimes much more than your own family are.

Dear Friedrich, you brought me joy with your inquisitive nature, and gave me the opportunity to see how perhaps my son would have grown if he had had the chance.

To you both, these past few months you have given me my family back – you have helped me to become alive again, even in this place of death.

I am, forever yours and with all my love,

Isaac.

Chapter 33

Friedrich

His bags were sat at the foot of his bed, packed once more. He had wanted to take his train set, but his mother had told him there was no room and he was to leave it behind.

The bed was stripped of its bedding, leaving the stark white mattress. He held the red engine in his hands, turning it over and over, trying to sear it into his memory – his toy that his friend Isaac had fixed for him, his toy that he was told he was not allowed to take with him.

He hoped a new family would move into the house, and that perhaps they would have a little boy who loved trains and had always wanted a train set. He decided that if he thought about it enough, if he imagined it, then it would become real.

Outside he heard the revving of the car engines, then his father’s voice. He walked to the window and looked out, seeing Isaac standing near the open bonnet, his shoulders drooped as if he were about to fall over at any moment.

He watched him stare into the engine then straighten up, his father talking to him. Then, Isaac walked towards the side of the house – he was going to the shed.

Friedrich ran from his room and took the stairs quickly, feeling as though his feet were flying down them.

His mother was asking Anna to help her carry a suitcase to the car and he ran past them, straight out to the shed. He peered through the window and saw Isaac sitting on the floor, writing something on a piece of paper. He desperately wanted to go in, but he didn’t want to disturb him either.

He’d wait, he decided. He’d sit in the trees at the back where no one could see him, and he’d wait a while and then go in.

The pine needles that had dripped from the trees littered the floor, and when Friedrich sat down, a few pricked him in his thighs, so he had to keep moving to try and find a more comfortable spot.

He could hear his mother shouting at his father on the driveway and wished they would forget they had a son and simply drive away without him.

A plane flew low overhead and there was a smattering of gunfire from near the camp. He knew he did not have long – his mother would come looking for him soon. He had to disturb Isaac.

Inside the shed Isaac was still sitting on the dusty floor, the paper from his hands gone.

‘Friedrich.’ Isaac’s voice was low, and simply saying his name seemed to require a lot of effort.

‘I wanted to say goodbye,’ Friedrich said.

Isaac patted the floor next to him and Friedrich sat, letting Isaac place his thin arm around his shoulders, drawing him into his side.

‘Do you smell lemons, Friedrich?’ Isaac asked.

‘No. Should I?’

‘No. You shouldn’t.’

‘Do you smell them?’

‘I do.’

‘Where will you go now, Isaac? Will you have to go back to the camp?’

‘I’ll be going home,’ Isaac said. ‘I’ll be going home to see my wife Hannah.’

‘You never told me you had a wife!’ Friedrich exclaimed. He had thought he knew everything about him.