‘And you know people who are in this position? People who have passports but can’t put them to good use because they need a sponsor?’

Hugo nodded.

Paul gave a shrug of broad shoulders. ‘I’d be happy to stand as a sponsor and I’ll do it for as many people as you can arrange.’

‘Thanks, Paul.’ It was what Hugo had been hoping for and his voice was choked with relief.

Vicky opened her eyes and pushed herself up into a sitting position so that they became aware of her presence for the first time.

‘And I have another idea,’ she said, as if she had been part of the conversation all along. ‘As Jews aren’t allowed to take money or valuables out of the country, I could do it for them.’

Hugo blinked.

Paul looked appalled.

‘Because I have German family there’s nothing at all odd about my visiting Germany regularly. And each time I return to England I can bring money or valuables out with me.’

‘Of course you can’t, Aunt Vicky!’ Paul was no longer appalled. He was horrified. ‘If Hitler’s SS became aware of what you were doing, God only knows what would happen to you. You could end up in Dachau!’

He looked towards Hugo. ‘For goodness sake, tell her it’s out of the question, Hugo.’

‘But it isn’t out of the question.’

Never in his life had Paul been so badly let down.

Hugo was gazing at his mother as if he had never seen her before. ‘It’s an absolutely brilliant idea, Mother. You could travel to Berlin with Hester and me when we return after Christmas and then come back with someone’s life savings a week or two afterwards. And if everything goes smoothly, it would be quite natural for you to be making another trip at Easter.’

‘That’s it, then,’ Vicky said, ignoring Paul’s horror-struck face. ‘I shall be doing something really worthwhile and I can’t wait to start.’

Chapter Eighteen

Berlin, July 1936

Ilse was perched on a stool at the side of the stage, a well-thumbed copy of Friedrich von Schiller’s Intrigue and Love clutched tightly to her chest. As the actors taking the parts of President Walter and his son, Ferdinand, rehearsed one of their key scenes yet again, she was mentally going over her own lines.

She had been given the part of the play’s virtuous heroine, Louisa Miller, and was determined to put her stamp on it in a way that would make her name as an up-and-coming classical actress.

‘Nein. Nein. Nein!’ Gustav Gründgens exploded, but not, thank God, at her. ‘President Walter is rich and powerful! Rich and powerful men move with authority, shoulders back and belly out! Again, please. Again.’

Her own character had to be both self-sufficient, for when she was dealing with President Walter and his dastardly plotting, and also heart-stoppingly vulnerable, for when the text demanded she swoon and faint—and there was a lot of swooning and fainting in Intrigue and Love.