‘I have some food,’ Sunny said as Wilde applied the handbrake. ‘Emmy very kindly had sandwiches made for us. Sausage or cheese, Klara?’

‘Is there jam?’

‘No.’

‘Then I want sausage and cheese. Both.’ Her voice was petulant.

Wilde understood her ill-humour. After the dramatic events at her house and then on the road from Carinhall, the journey had been long and dreary. Any child would be fed up. But of course her tetchiness was nothing compared to the inner turmoil the girl must be struggling to contain. In the space of two days she had lost her loved ones, had her spirits lifted at Carinhall – and then the shattering experience of gunfire and death on a public highway.

Sunny took a brown paper parcel from her bag, and unwrapped it on her lap, revealing thick-cut sandwiches of brown bread. She handed one from each side of the pile to Karla.

‘There you are. Now, Tom, would you like one?’

‘Cheese for me, please.’

‘She also gave me a little something to drink – lemonade for Klara, a small flask of whisky for you, Tom.’

Just what he needed at that moment.

‘Suddenly I feel a lot happier.’

‘And cake for when the sandwiches are gone.’

‘This is like a picnic!’ Klara said.

Wilde and Klara ate in silence for a few minutes, then he noticed that Sunny wasn’t eating.

‘You need food, too, you know.’

‘I can’t eat, Tom.’

He reached out and brushed a tear from her cheek with the back of his hand.

‘Do you want to tell me about him?’

‘I do, yes. I want to tell the world about him, because he was a hero. He was the sort of man Germany needs right now. I knew him from childhood. Our families were friends. But I spent so much time in America that we somehow lost touch and of course I married someone else. But then, after Werner’s death, Anton came to the memorial service and, well, it was like old times. Some would condemn us for the speed with which we got together, but it was just so natural – and no insult to Werner. I loved Werner, too, but very differently.’

Tom nodded sympathetically. ‘I’m not going to judge you. But tell me more about you and Anton, if you would. From outside Germany it’s not at all obvious that there is any kind of resistance to the regime. I am impressed by your courage, but rather despondent that the resistance seems so hopeless.’