The minute she entered it she knew that whatever was wrong in the house was not a small thing but a major catastrophe. Hardly any guests remained. The musicians had gone. Zelda was seated at a table with her father and Vicky’s father. There was no sign of the bridegroom. No sign of Berthold. No sign of anyone who looked as if they might be the doctor. And no sign of Harald Remer.

With her heart beating like a piston she crossed the ballroom floor.

‘Excuse me, Mrs Gould,’ she said, forgetting in her anxiety that she should now be addressing Zelda as Frau Remer. ‘But where is the doctor? I sent word for him nearly two hours ago and—‘

‘You sent for him?’ Vicky’s father stared at her in a way not dissimilar to the way the footman had stared at her.

Zelda rose swiftly to her feet. ‘Oh, Lord,’ she said unsteadily. ‘It’s Vicky, isn’t it? The baby is coming?’

‘Yes, ma’am. I gave orders for the doctor to be sent for and I’m told he’s here, but—’

‘He is, but he thought he’d been called to attend to Herr Remer, who has been taken ill.’

Josephine let out a deep breath, finally understanding all that had been puzzling her. ‘Can someone tell him that Mrs Remer also needs him?’

Zelda’s eyes flew to the closed doors of a small salon leading off from the ballroom.

Aware of what she was intending to do, her father said bluntly, ‘You can’t walk in on whatever is taking place in there. When Harald has been taken to hospital then, and only then, can the doctor attend Vicky.’

Zelda hesitated and then, ignoring his opinion, walked towards the closed doors. When she opened them all she could see was a sofa on which the comatose figure of Harald Remer was laid, with Josef, Berthold, Ernst Schulenburg and Dr Soller in attendance around it.

‘I’m sorry, Josef,’ she said as they all swung to face her, hope that the ambulance had finally arrived clear on their faces. ‘Vicky’s baby is coming and she is in urgent need of a doctor.’

She was aware of Berthold’s distraught intake of breath and then Josef said, ‘And you want Soller?’ The incredulity on his face was total. ‘My father’s condition is critical. Soller can’t be spared, not for a moment.’

He turned his back on her and, having seen her father-in-law’s grey, sweat-sheened face close to, Zelda didn’t argue with him. She looked at Berthold, expecting him to leave his father’s side in order to go upstairs with her and be with Vicky until the doctor arrived. He didn’t move.

‘I’m sorry, Zelda,’ he said, his face agonized as he read the expectation on her face, ‘but I can’t leave my father when he is so ill. Please tell Vicky I will be with her once my father’s condition improves.’

Zelda held his eyes for a moment, giving him the chance to rethink the choice he had made, and then, as he turned his attention back to his father, his face a mask of misery, she left the room.