It was a division that had driven a deep wedge between himself and the rest of his family. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen his sisters and he knew why they were so chary of contact with him. It was to safeguard Nicholas. Nicholas, who, instinct told him, was actively working with others to bring about the Führer’s downfall; Nicholas, who they respected as they had long since ceased to respect him.

The result of being so cut off from those he loved was a loneliness that had seeped into his very bones. The mask of dispassionate indifference that he presented to the world was one it had become increasingly impossible to lower. He certainly couldn’t reveal his inner self to any of the glamorous, Hitler-fixated blondes who decorated his arm at public functions. And as if all that wasn’t burden enough to live with, he now had the knowledge that he had become part of the system that treated human beings as if they were nothing more than raw material for labour, raw material that was totally expendable.

There came a knock at the door.

‘Come in,’ he said loudly, knowing who it would be. Knowing it would be Gustav with Hester.

If she had looked barely recognizable thrust back against the wall in the narrow corridor, she looked even less recognizable now that he could see her more clearly. Her once glossy cloud of soft dark hair clung lankly around a face that was gaunt. Her eyes had sunk deep in their sockets. Her shoulder bones were cruelly pronounced beneath one of the second-hand dresses that had been distributed to all slave-labour women within the last week. He could see the edge of a bruise at her neckline and wondered how far it extended. Worst of all, he could see terrible apprehension in her eyes.

‘That is all, Gustav,’ he said to the elderly manager he trusted completely.

Gustav inclined his head. ‘Yes, Herr Direktor.’ As overall manager of the factory it certainly wasn’t one of his duties to ferry people around the building and in and out of Claus’s office, but these weren’t normal times. If Claus wished him to escort this particular member of the slave-labour force, then he wasn’t going to quibble about it. ‘Shall I wait outside, Herr Direktor, in order to escort this worker back to the packing department?’ he asked deferentially.

‘Yes.’ Claus’s voice was tautly abrupt.

It seemed to take a lifetime for Gustav to remove himself from the room, for the door to close.

He could see the apprehension in her eyes begin to thicken with fear, and that she should be afraid of him, afraid of the power he had over her, made his gut twist as if a knife were embedded in it.

‘Hester…’ he said thickly. ‘Dear God, Hester. We thought you were dead. We were told you’d been executed within hours of your arrest.’

There were acres of carpeted space between them. He couldn’t move. He was terrified that if he closed the distance separating them and took hold of her she would turn to dust beneath his touch.