Walter straightens and turns away. ‘Then you are blind, Hetty Heinrich. People see what they want to. We all have a choice. Each and every one of us. We choose how we treat each other. You chose, didn’t you? Karl simply chose differently.’ His face is hard, eyes angry, words acid.

‘I hate you, Walter Keller,’ I sob, ‘I hate you.’

I should walk out now, leave. Slam the door. Never see him again, but I can’t make my feet move. I just sit, sobbing, my shoulders heaving, my wretched heart aching like it has never ached before.

‘You don’t mean that,’ Walter says at last. ‘I know you don’t.’

There is a pause, a teetering on the edge of something and then, somehow, I’m standing and he’s holding me, I’m crying from the inside out, and he is whispering ‘Shhh,’ softly in my ear, rubbing my back, and I am saying, ‘Sorry, I’m sorry,’ over and over, because I mean it more than anything.

‘I’m sorry too. You know I would never do anything to hurt you. I love you, Hetty Heinrich.’

We collapse into the chair, together, and slowly everything calms. We don’t speak; there is no need for words. He kisses my hair, my cheek, my neck. Then he kisses my mouth and a hunger grows inside.

Suddenly, from somewhere upstairs, there is a loud banging of doors. We stare at each other. A few seconds later, more bangs, the muffled sound of footsteps.

‘I think it’s a raid.’ Walter’s whisper is barely audible.

‘Why?’

‘About the taxes. It’s just an excuse. Hurry, they might come down.’

He grabs my hand and leads me towards the back of the warehouse.

‘Why don’t we leave?’

‘There’ll be Gestapo crawling around outside. Quickly!’

He pulls me into a dark corner. Bales are piled high but behind them, between the mountain of rabbit skins and the wall, is a narrow gap. We can just squeeze in sideways.

We hear the outer door crash open. Shouts. Clipped footsteps. We freeze in horror. Walter nudges me to keep going and we edge, inch by inch, along the gap, between the bales and the wall, right to the end in the pitch blackness. With luck, torchlight won’t penetrate far enough in to see us.

‘What if they find us?’ I hiss to Walter.

‘Shh. Don’t think, just be silent.’

The gap is so narrow. The wall is hard against my back and the weight of the bales press in front and above me, Walter to the side. Boots pound across the floor. The bark of an order. The darkness is impenetrable. My eyes strain against it, trying to make out pinpricks of light, but there are none. Someone shouts, nearer now. I’m suffocating. Terror overwhelms me and Walter fumbles for my hand.

‘It’s okay. Stay calm.’

There’s a rasp of metal on concrete. Footsteps. Close. Very close. My ears strain. I try to stop shaking, stop the sound of my heart crashing in my ears, still my breathing.