Their eyes held. Neither of them spoke.

Four black-uniformed SS men came and sat down at a near by table.

Ilse said quietly, ‘I’m so pleased to see you, Hester, yet this isn’t a very jolly lunch, is it?’

Hester shook her head and opened her bag for her purse so that she could put sufficient money for the bill on the table and they could leave as speedily as possible. ‘No,’ she said. ‘But nothing is jolly any more in Berlin, is it? Absolutely nothing at all.’

An hour later, as she neared the Schimmels’ apartment building she found herself with an unexpected companion. ‘Max told me where to find you,’ Vicky said, falling into step beside her. ‘I have some thoughts on Herr and Frau Schimmels’ problem and thought I’d come with you.’

Hester stared at her mother-in-law in a mixture of relief and despair. Relief, because Vicky was always a comforting presence. Despair, because at every turn Vicky was becoming more and more involved in situations that could result in her arrest. Her thick fair hair was scooped back and gathered in a coil at the nape of her neck. She was wearing a pair of soft leather brogues and one of the tweed suits she favoured for her expeditions to and from Germany, though on this occasion there was no fabulous piece of Jewish jewellery masquerading as junk jewellery in her lapel. Her colouring made her look every inch a German. Only her clothing singled her out as being English.

As they came to a halt outside the door of the Schimmel’s apartment building, Hester gave a cautious look up and down the street. There were no uniforms to be seen and no curious eyes watching.

Mo Schimmel opened the door to them and his eyes, when he saw Vicky, were immediately panicked.

‘This is my mother-in-law,’ she said swiftly. ‘She can be trusted.’

Looking only slightly reassured, Mo Schimmel shook hands with Vicky and led the way upstairs. The smell of baking bread wafted to greet them and then a boy with slanting eyes and small, deep-set ears appeared at the top of the stairs, clapping his hands and beaming. He said something Hester couldn’t understand, but which was quite clearly an expression of how pleased he was to meet them.

‘My son, Heini,’ Mo Schimmel said as they all congregated together on the landing.

Hester put out her hand to Heini, but instead of shaking it, Heini, who she judged to be about twelve or thirteen, enveloped her in a bear hug. She wasn’t sure, but she thought he was saying, ‘Pretty lady, pretty lady,’ and then it was Vicky’s turn to be nearly squeezed to death.

‘Let’s go in the sitting room,’ Mo Schimmel said, and Heini immediately relinquished hold of Vicky in order to eagerly lead the way.

Hester was so entranced by Heini’s disarming display of affection and his obvious happy nature that she didn’t notice Miriam Schimmel enter the room behind them until her husband said, ‘My wife, Miriam. Miriam, Frau Remer and…and Frau Remer’s mother-in-law.’