‘I’m Aishe and this is my son, Tomo.’

The woman surveyed them, her eyes showing the greyish bloom of cataracts, and her face heavily lined, her make-up only serving to make her look more hag-like. ‘Roma?’

‘Yes,’ Aishe said quietly.

The woman stood up slowly, her heavy frame disappearing through a beaded curtain to a back room, muttering as she went.

The silence in the room was cloying, punctuated only by the rhythmic ticking of the old clock on the wall. Tomo stared at the clock, his face a mask of confusion.

Aishe looked at her son’s dark, handsome face. His cheeks were stained with fat tears that carved trails on his grubby skin. His near-black eyes were impassive and her heart ached for him. The enormity of his father’s death had not yet arrived, but it would soon. And how would they cope then? They’d have to. She’d have to. Jacov’s legacy must be protected. Nothing else mattered but Tomo now; his future was all that concerned her. Grieving could wait for another day.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the entrance of a sturdy, grey-haired man with sharp green eyes and a kindly face, with a monstrous grey moustache that totally dominated his upper lip and cheeks. He wore dark trousers and a short-sleeved, crisp cotton shirt.

‘Aishe?’ he asked, grunting when she nodded. ‘And you must be little Tomo?’ His eyes held a smile as he looked at the little boy.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘I am Braslav, an associate of Jacov’s.’ He started to ask when Jacov would arrive but the desolate look on Aishe’s face told its own story.

‘When?’

‘Yesterday,’ Aishe replied, casting her eyes down to hide the welling tears.

Braslav shook his head. ‘This is happening too often. What will become of our country? I promised Jacov I would help him, and I will,’ he said firmly. ‘You have everything you need?’

Aishe looked sadly at him. ‘We have nothing else. They took everything.’

Braslav shook his head again. ‘Do you have money and papers?’

Aishe nodded. ‘We have enough money for the journey only and we have our papers. We also have these.’ She reached into her pocket and produced a small, soft leather bag. Tipping the contents into her hand, she proffered them to Braslav.

Three small stones glittered in her hand, given to her by Jacov only three days before.

Braslav looked at the diamonds with a mild expression of wonder.

‘Hide them well, my dear. Men will kill for such a prize. These are Jacov’s legacy to you to start a new life in the free world,’ he said as Aishe returned the stones to her pocket.

Braslav looked firmly at Tomo, his green eyes shining with tears.