Hugo faced Hester across the width of their crisply made bed. Their flat was on the fifth floor of an elegant building a hand’s throw away from Harrods and, as the window was open, subdued traffic noise could be heard. Both of them were uncaring of it.

On the floor beside Hester was a packed suitcase, and her handbag and a hip-length raspberry-red swagger jacket lay on the bed.

‘I can’t not go, just because you can’t come with me.’ Her low-pitched voice was fraught with tension. ‘I’m needed, Hugo. Our friends can’t both forge documents and deliver them. There has to be someone to break the chain in case of discovery. And there has to be someone to coach people given American or British documents on how they should behave at passport and visa controls so as not to arouse suspicion.’

Hugo ran a hand through his fine, straight hair, not knowing which of his emotions was uppermost: despair, fear or fury at himself for being responsible for the present situation.

Struggling to keep his voice steady, he said, ‘There are other people who can do deliveries, Hester. Lots of people. I transferred from Berlin to London to take you out of danger, not to expose you to more danger. And for you, as a German Jew, continually going in and out of the country is far more dangerous than when you were simply resident in it. It draws attention to you. Wait until we can both travel together.’

She shook her head. She hated quarrelling—and they hardly ever did so. Their disagreements were only ever over his concern for her safety.

‘I can’t, Hugo. You know I can’t.’ Her dark eyes were anguished. ‘Lotti’s phone calls make it quite clear that things are getting worse by the minute for my people. Anyone mentally or physically handicapped risks being sent away to a special centre for treatment, whether their families wish them to have treatment or not. Lotti says my mother’s dentist’s family, the Schimmels, are desperate because their youngest son is Mongoloid. If Miriam Schimmel is separated from him it will kill her.’

Hugo groaned. ‘If the child is handicapped, there is nothing you can do, Hester. Even if the family have papers, there’s little chance of any country accepting them. It’s hard enough trying to get Britain and America to take the fit and healthy who have affidavits of support. The quotas are getting smaller and smaller. And a visa application for a child with such a disability is bound to come under even closer scrutiny than usual. Give up all thoughts of helping them. It can’t be done.’

Her eyes held his. ‘You don’t mean that,’ she said quietly. ‘You’re only saying that because you’re too fearful of my safety to want me to be the person helping them.’

‘I love you,’ he said simply. ‘I love you more than life itself, Hester. And that you have had to take risks in the past—that we have both had to take risks in the past—has been unavoidable. I could never have lived with myself if we hadn’t helped to forge passports and visas. But that was when we were living in Germany. We’re not living there now. We’ve done our bit—more than our bit. Anything we do now has to be done from this end of things—from London. You can’t travel to Germany alone. It’s too dangerous.’