‘The Berlin factory is to be left in my possession,’ he had said, his relief at the fact obvious, ‘and I shall continue to operate it as a clothing factory. With luck, I might even be able to do so in close alliance with Adam’s woollen mills in Yorkshire.’

He hadn’t said what his plans were for the future with regard to Hester, but Max had been able to guess.

As the holder of a British passport and the widow of a British officer, Hester could have returned to England at any time once the war was over, but she hadn’t done so. Instead, she’d remained in Berlin, hunting down all her fellow Jews who had survived the war thanks to Claus, ensuring the letters they wrote reached the right people, visiting him as often as she was allowed, keeping his spirits up when no one else could possibly have done.

And now they were to be married, and he couldn’t have been happier for them.

‘Time to go,’ he said again. ‘Is Emily Elise coming with us? Because if she is, she’ll have to go in Leo and Nancy’s car. Heini’s so terrified of not being there on time he’s been at the station since nine o’clock and he’ll want a lift back. It’s going to mean her sitting on either Claus’s or Hester’s knee on the return journey.’

Vicky rested the shallow basket laden with roses on the balustrade and looked down over the lawn to where the hammock was strung between two trees. Zelda was still lazily stretched out in it and Emily Elise was sitting cross-legged on the grass near by, in animated conversation with her.

‘Emily Elise!’ she shouted. ‘The cars are about to leave for the station!’

Emily Elise scrambled to her feet, sprinting for the terrace steps, the sun glinting on her torrent of fiery hair.

‘The only other person I’ve ever seen with hair like that is Rita Hayworth,’ Ilse said to Vicky. ‘And that’s only been on film.’

‘You’ll probably be seeing Rita Hayworth in real life soon,’ Vicky said, referring to the fact that Ilse was leaving almost immediately for Hollywood, where there was a contract waiting for her to sign at MGM. ‘And, more interestingly still, you’ll be meeting people like Clark Gable and James Stewart. Emily Elise would love it if you snapped up someone like Clark Gable as a husband.’

‘So would I,’ Ilse said with a chuckle as Emily Elise ran breathlessly up the steps to where everyone was waiting for her. ‘But establishing myself in Hollywood is going to be hard work. It won’t give me much time for husband-hunting.’

She was wearing a coffee-coloured silk dress patterned with white polka dots, the skirt swirling mid-calf around legs sheathed in nylons so sheer they took Vicky’s breath away. Her white kid shoes were peep-toed and she was carrying a large white straw hat, decorated with a coffee-coloured silk rose. Her barley-gold hair was swept high into a timelessly elegant chignon and her eyes were the blue of a summer sky.