She was quite right and he dropped his jacket to the impeccably mown lawn then sat down beside it, his legs crossed in front of him Indian-fashion.

‘I was hoping you’d be here and not down at the Schloss,’ he said, wondering how a woman who was touching fifty, or was even, perhaps, a few months over fifty, could look so sensual. If her hair wasn’t quite as blue-black as it had been when she had been younger, it was still glossily dark and cut so that it fell dramatically forward at cheekbone level on either side of her face, accentuating a fringe that came down to her eyebrows. Her afternoon garden wear was a sleeveless, loosely flowing silk-georgette dress in sizzling yellow. A scattering of appliquéd silver leaves decorated the skirt and she was wearing one of her favourite, heavily embossed silver bracelets.

‘I’m hardly ever in Baden-Württemberg these days,’ she said wryly. ‘Not since Josef began using the Schloss for entertaining the Nazi hierarchy. You’re looking rather wonderful. I like it when you wear your hair a little longer than is quite proper. It makes you look like a pirate!’

He laughed. He’d always known that he was a favourite with his usually acid-tongued aunt, for Zelda had never made any secret of it. ‘Hugo reminds me of your father,’ she had once said to him. ‘Not in character—he’s not a weakling—but in looks. He has the same fine, straight hair and reserved manner. I prefer a roustabout look and, if I may say so, you have that in spades, young Max.’

‘You’re her favourite because she delivered you when you were born,’ was his mother’s opinion, pleased at the closeness that existed between at least two of her children and Zelda.

A maid came across the lawn towards them to see if they required anything. ‘Two vodkas with Kahlua,’ Zelda said, not troubling to ask Max what he might like to drink. ‘And a jug of ice and some biscuits.’

Turning her attention again to Max, she said, ‘I had a telephone call from your mother on the day of her wedding, so don’t think you’re about to give me news I haven’t heard already. I don’t suppose the wedding will stop Yorkshire tongues wagging about the two of them. Little Ridding must have been goggle-eyed when Emily Elise was born with flamered hair.’

‘It was certainly a talking-point,’ he said with a grin. ‘But what’s happening here? Is Claus in Berlin, or down at the steelworks?’

‘At the steelworks. He’s spending more and more time in the Ruhr.’ Her voice had altered slightly and her hands had tightened on the edge of the hammock, the knuckles beginning to show white.

He said carefully, ‘How are things with the steelworks? Is Claus having to tread very carefully with the present regime?’

‘It’s swings and roundabouts,’ she said, the odd edge to her voice now even more apparent. ‘Hitler has gone out of his way to assure the House of Remer that he’s not going to interfere with its property or profits. As he’s smashed the power of the trade unions, neither Josef nor Claus have that aspect of industrial relations to worry about and because of new arms and munitions contracts that have been given to Remers, both Josef and Claus feel that any concessions they’re called upon to make are worth it.’