Uppermost on his mind was whether Max would arrive in Berlin, from Munich, without incident. For twenty-one months, Max had successfully remained in Germany, but for how much longer he could do so was highly questionable. That he had been able to do so at all was due to his being Claus Remer’s cousin and Berthold Remer’s son—and to his being a German by birth and nationality. That he hadn’t been conscripted into the army was thanks to Claus.

As soon as German armies had rolled over the Polish border and it had become obvious war with Britain was unavoidable, Max had told Claus he was in love with a girl from Munich and intended remaining in Germany. Whether Claus truly believed him was something even Max didn’t know, for Claus—as always—kept his thoughts to himself. The important thing, though, was that he had certified Max was engaged on essential war work for the House of Remer, freeing Max from the tricky problem of military service.

‘And this new film?’ Robert Radcliff was asking Ilse. ‘Is it historical, like your first two films?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ she said ruefully. ‘There is far more propaganda in this film.’

Well aware that conversation was flowing easily without any input from him, Nicholas returned his attention to thoughts of Max and their vitally important meeting tomorrow.

It would be the first time Max would meet all the key players in the conspiracy. The attempt on Hitler’s life was to take place in five days’ time and it was essential that Max, their direct link to the British government, knew in detail what their plans for an anti-Nazi government were. Though he, Nicholas, was utterly certain that with Hitler dead they would be able to come to satisfactory peace terms with Prime Minister Winston Churchill, other members of the conspiracy were not so sure and it was going to be down to Max to convince them.

‘Are the Babelsburg film studios far from Berlin?’ Elizabeth Radcliff asked Ilse, clearly as enraptured by Ilse as her husband was.

‘Not too far. I travel by train to Babelsburg station and from there it’s just a short walk through a wood to the studio.’

‘But what if there was to be a raid?’ Elizabeth Radcliff looked horrified.

‘Daylight raids don’t happen—not yet, at any rate. And I enjoy the early morning walk through the wood. It’s possible to forget all about the war, and for a little amount of time the world seems to be just as it once was.’

‘Ah,’ Robert Radcliff said expressively, ‘if only…’

Aware they were in a public restaurant where it was just possible they would be overheard, no one else said anything until Elizabeth Radcliff remarked, ‘I’m amazed you have to travel to the studios by public transport. I can’t imagine a Hollywood film star doing that. The studios send cars for them.’

‘Some German actresses have studio cars,’ Ilse said, black humour in her lovely voice, ‘but only those who meet with the patron of the film industry personally, so that he can “get to know them a little better”.’