I stare at the dead creature hanging directly in front of me, trying to imagine it draped over my body. Its four little paws hang down forlornly and the inside of the skin is stained red where the flesh has been peeled away; the eyes are a dull, milky-white.

I shudder.

Walter grabs my hands, pulling me close. ‘Tell me, what happened?’ His face is serious. ‘Hetty, you look exhausted. Whatever is it?’

‘Karl…’ The tears begin to flow, and Walter’s face swims and dissolves before me.

We hold hands across the table in the little glass office, surrounded by this warehouse of the dead. My head aches from breathing in the chemical stink and from the effort of retelling the story of what happened to Karl. Even though he is holding my hand, Walter feels a long way away. A table between us, when I want to be in his arms.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says at last. ‘What a terrible shock for you all.’

He seems distant. There is something stony about the set of his mouth, the look in his eye. It isn’t the reaction I’d expected. Perhaps he’s come to terms with the thought of marrying Anna. Perhaps he’s even looking forward to it. Or maybe he’s secretly happy Karl is dead. I pull my hands from his.

‘This is my brother. I don’t know how to exist without him.’ How can I make him understand? ‘While you and I were together that morning, talking about your plans for England with your new wife,’ I spit the word at him, ‘Karl was being rushed to hospital fighting for his life and losing it. You don’t give a jot whether he’s alive or dead, do you?’ There is heat in my neck. It rushes to the top of my head like a boiling wave, erupting from my mouth. ‘You stupid, unfeeling bastard! I was an idiot to come here, to think you would even understand.’

‘I do care, Hetty. I care that you are so upset.’

He tries to take my hand but I fold my arms across my chest.

‘You don’t care he’s dead though, do you?’ I shout.

‘Shh! Someone will hear.’ Now he stands, leans on the table, body bent towards me. ‘Karl rejected me and treated me like a piece of dirt.’ His lips are thin, drawn back, his face taut, like skin stretched over a drum. ‘He could have been like you and valued me as a human being. So, in all honesty, yes. I’ve been angry and hurt. More than you could ever know. But I didn’t wish him dead. And I’m sorry for your loss. That’s the truth. What more do you want me to say?’

‘You really don’t understand what it’s like for us, do you?’ I want to shake him. Make him see, make him feel as I do. ‘Karl didn’t have a choice. He had to reject you. What people secretly think, it doesn’t matter anymore, don’t you see? We have to be this way. Why do you imagine it’s easier for us than it is for you?’