Private Gordon got to his feet. “If you don’t mind, Colonel, I need to round up some more envelopes. Shall I send someone in my absence?”
“No need,” said Bryce.
She followed him inside the office and sat down. “It is not only the salt,” she said. “My son needs to see the dentist tomorrow. I wish to make a telephone call to make sure the appointment can take place as scheduled.”
“Of course,” he said, turning the phone around and pushing it toward her. “Tomorrow, you say?”
“Yes. The only time he can be seen is at night,” said Tirzah. “He is to arrive rather late, in fact. During the half hour after the second watch.”
“I see.”
“I believe tomorrow is a night that Goldberg is usually posted at the front gate.”
Bryce nodded. “Yes, that is correct.”
Tirzah took the receiver and asked the operator to place the call. They waited in silence for several minutes, their eyes fixed on each other’s hands.
“No one answers,” she said.
“Would you like to wait and try again?”
“It is not necessary. Is it?”
“Would you like me to ask Gordon to bring you a cup of tea?”
“No, thank you,” said Tirzah.
Tirzah and Bryce stood up. She smoothed her skirt. He moved the telephone back to its customary place.
They both realized that these might be their last few moments alone. The breakout would change things in Atlit. Bryce was risking his career. Tirzah might be assigned elsewhere. There was no way of knowing.
Bryce broke the silence. “I will miss seeing Danny.”
“Colonel,” she said, switching to English. “I wish to thank you for your concern for my boy.”
“A pleasure, Mrs. Friedman.”
“Good-bye,” she said, in English.
“Let us say instead, Shalom,” said Bryce.
“As you wish,” Tirzah said. “Shalom.”
When Leonie saw the knot of women gathered outside her barrack door, she ran toward them and pushed her way inside. Aliza was shouting at the top of her lungs, “Enough, enough,” while Lotte, crouched on top of her cot, shrieked, “Hexe, hexe, hexe.”
Her skirt was stained with dirt and menstrual blood, her feet were filthy, her ankles covered w
ith angry red welts.
“Wait,” said Leonie, stepping in front of the nurse. “Let me.”
Lotte stopped screaming. “Get the witch away from me, Claudette Colbert,” she said. “She is an evil witch and I know what she wants.”
She dropped her voice and whispered, “She wants to cut open my legs and put glass needles inside to watch me die. She wants to kill me. Everyone here wants to kill me. The one dressed like a nurse will break my bones. She is not a nurse at all. That’s a disguise. She is a witch.”
“Calm yourself,” Leonie said. “You can trust me, can’t you? I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“Thank goodness you speak German,” said Aliza. “The doctor told me to bring her to the clinic, but I told him I will not permit such dirt in my infirmary.” She pointed at Lotte and shouted, “You need to be washed and fumigated.”