Vicky, aware of his hopes and knowing there was little chance of his fulfilling them, walked out of the house and onto the broad terrace that fronted what had once been immaculate rolling lawns.

They were immaculate no longer. Because of Shuttleworth Hall’s vast acreage of nursery gardens, now turned over entirely to the production of fruit and vegetables, the lawns had not, so far, been ploughed and furrowed. They had, though, been left untended. On the morning after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, Paul had left Germany for America. Four days later, when Germany declared war on America, he had walked into a New York army recruiting office. He had written to explain.

Dearest Aunt Vicky,

I’m sorry the growing of fruit and vegetables for Britain’s war effort is down to you entirely—though you’ll get plenty of help from Will and the Berlin contingent, with no doubt a couple of Land Girls thrown in for good measure.

By the Berlin contingent he had meant Hester’s two cousins who, with their families, were still living happily in Shuttleworth Hall’s west wing after being given refugee status as agricultural trainees.

Paul had been right in thinking there was enough help on hand for her to be able to continue managing without him, but there wasn’t so much help that time and attention could be given to luxury activities such as immaculate-lawn tending. Now, as she walked with Tinker in the direction of the river, some of the grass was knee-high and thick with buttercups.

Adam had been deeply gratified by Hitler’s action in declaring war on America. ‘It’s the beginning of the end, Vicky,’ he had said with confidence. ‘It’s Hitler’s second great tactical error. The first was opening up a second front by invading Russia. No one has invaded Russia successfully, not even Bonaparte. This mistake is even crasser. Who knows for how long America would have remained stubbornly neutral if Germany hadn’t declared war on her? And who knows for how long we would have been able to survive without America fighting alongside us? Now, though, we’ll have American warships and warplanes and, very soon, her armies fighting on our side. Hitler has doomed himself. He doesn’t stand a chance.’

That had been five months ago and though America’s entry into the war had certainly boosted British spirits, it hadn’t, as yet, showed any sign of putting a nail into Hitler’s coffin. The war, now two-and-a-half-years old, still ground on.

Vicky tried hard not to think about it, but with her family and extended family involved so deeply—and on both sides—it wasn’t an easy thing to do. Paul was stationed at an American army training camp in northern Ireland, which made her hopeful that the longed-for invasion of Europe was going to be sooner rather than later. Hugo was in Bomber Command, taking part in raids on naval facilities in the Atlantic and north Germany.

Nancy was back in London, still working for Reuters. Just short of a year ago, when Paul had still been in Berlin, she had received a letter from him via one of his American relatives, telling her that not only was he in love with a German girl, a nurse by the name of Eva Kestler, but that Lotti and Max were in love.