‘Thank God you’re here.’ He steps forward to greet me.

‘And you. I was so scared they would arrest you when you got home.’

‘Not yet,’ he says. ‘I’m doing everything I possibly can to avoid it.’

He takes my hand and leads me deeper into the woods. The undergrowth is tangled and it’s difficult to pick our way through. He stamps on brambles and holds back branches to stop them whipping my face.

A light drizzle is falling, but that’s a good thing. Fewer people will be out for an afternoon stroll.

We stop in a small clearing. At last I’m able to look into his pale, tired face.

‘Please tell me – what’s happened to your father and your uncle?’

‘The Gestapo kept them for two days then let them go.’

‘But that’s wonderful!’

Walter shakes his head. ‘Of course, it’s good they’re home. But at an enormous price. Hetty, they were beaten and interrogated non-stop for two days and nights, starved, weren’t allowed to sleep. They broke them. In the end they were so weak they agreed to sign papers to transfer the business to the National Socialist Party in order to be released. They also have a hefty fine to pay and only have until the end of the year to pay it.’

‘Oh God, no. I’m so sorry.’ His news is sickening. Shame, unbidden, floods me. To think I’m part of it. ‘On what basis can they do this?’

‘Tax fraud! Utter lies. They invented the worth of the business, which is in reality almost bankrupt, and taxed us on fictitious profits. Then they accused us of not paying tax bills worth more than the stock and net worth put together. It’s preposterous. Josef and my father can’t fight it anymore. The bastards have got what they want. Perhaps now they’ll leave us alone. My father still writes letters, hopelessly, all over Europe for a place to go, but since the conference at Evian in the summer, no country will take any more refugees. Not even Palestine. He fears the Nazis will soon take my grandmother’s house too, and then the whole family will be homeless.’

I see a change in his face. A collapse. An acceptance that the worst is to happen.

The lump is back in my throat.

‘And what about you? Did they come for you?’ My voice drops to a whisper. Something about the way he shifts his body and drops his gaze stirs the fear in my belly. He sidles a little closer to me and reaches for my hand.

‘It was a good job you hid me.’ I can tell he’s struggling to keep his voice light. ‘They did come looking. But, well, for now at least, they’re having to leave me alone.’

‘But why? For what?’ I grip his hand tight and press my body against his.

‘It’s very bad, Hetty.’ He hesitates. ‘There’s been an allegation of Rassenschande—’

‘No!’

‘So it seems, someone really is watching us.’