From then on every newspaper and periodical that came into the house was carefully searched for pictures of King George V, and when any were found Paul would carefully cut them out and stick them into his scrapbook with flour-paste. It was a whole new kind of life for him. Instead of a relentless routine of tutors and lessons and of only enjoying pleasures, such as walks in the Tiergarten, if his marks in his schoolwork were exceptionally high, he was able to enjoy a freedom he had never enjoyed before, not even when he had been living in New York.

‘He’s a fine little chap,’ Vicky’s father said to her the day before they were to return to Berlin. ‘I’m going to miss him when he’s gone.’

‘He’ll miss you too. And so will I.’

‘But not so much that it is going to make you as unhappy as it has in the past. We’ve agreed on that, Vicky dear, haven’t we?’

Seeing the concern in his eyes, she smiled. ‘Yes,’ she said resolutely. ‘We have.’

It was true. Her weeks at Shuttleworth Hall had worked their magic. She longed to be with Berthold again and felt rested enough to start afresh where her relationship with Berlin was concerned. She was going to work harder at her German conversation and, happy in the resolution she had made to visit Yorkshire at least once every year, she was determined that from now on she was going to gain as much enjoyment from the city’s opera houses, concert halls and art galleries as Zelda did. If marriage to Berthold meant her becoming a Berliner, then she was going to try her very hardest to become one.

The next morning, adjusting her hat in front of her dressing-table mirror as her luggage was being taken downstairs to be loaded into the motorcar, she resolved that from now on nothing was going to faze her. Not Josef’s patronizing attitude towards Berthold. Not the alien sound of trams clanging and swaying everywhere, nor the even more alien roar of the city’s elevated railway. Not the sombrely grandiose mansion that no amount of lovingly arranged flowers ever seemed to cheer. She had a husband she loved with all her heart and she was going to allow nothing—absolutely nothing—to mar their happiness together.

Chapter Four

Berlin, August 1911

Nearly the first thing Berthold said to her after they had rapturously kissed and hugged, was: ‘Josef has secured a wonderful new contract with the navy, Vicky. It’s going to mean work for thousands of men.’

They were still on the station platform, still in each other’s arms. She put her net-gloved hands on his chest, staring up at him bewilderedly.

‘A contract with the navy? For steel-plating?’

‘No.’ He shook his head, the late August sun reflecting on the pebble-thick lenses of his spectacles. ‘It’s for ships.’

He tucked one of her hands in the crook of his arm and began leading her down the platform to where Paul, Max, Max’s nanny and Josephine were already being ushered into a waiting motorcar.