‘Everything is changing, but I want it to be how it was,’ I say suddenly, thinking back to how uncomplicated life used to be, before we had to watch what we say to each other; before Walter’s family had to hide in the shadows. Before I knew about Vati and the girl-child.

Erna looks thoughtful for a moment. ‘Don’t you think the future’s bright then, Hett?’

‘It doesn’t feel like it, at the moment.’ How much to reveal? I wish I’d not been so defensive about Tomas’s father. Have I made Erna wary?

‘Why not?’ she asks, her voice falsely bright. ‘We have loads to look forward to. The concert at the Gewandhaus. The BDM dance. How about a kiss with a good-looking Wehrmacht officer?’ She nudges me. ‘What more could a girl want?’

She makes me smile, despite the melancholy which has settled deep in my being.

‘Really, what’s bothering you, Hett?’

‘Oh. Nothing. I suppose I’m just missing Karl, that’s all.’

‘Of course you are. How is he getting on?’

‘Fine, I think, he doesn’t write to me much.’

‘Bet you can’t wait to see him when he’s home.’

‘Heaven knows when that will be.’

‘Christmas, isn’t it? That’s what he said…’ Erna stops mid-sentence.

‘What?’

‘I mean, I think it would be about that time, wouldn’t it?’ She speaks quickly, rushing over her words, but her walking pace has slowed and, even in the dark and through the rain, I can feel she is blushing.

‘You just said, Christmas… That’s what he said…’ A mist descends and I stop walking. The sounds from the street are muffled, as though I am far away. Then, as if the fog has cleared, I see it. What I missed. How could I not have realised? Perhaps I did, but didn’t want to know it.

‘Hetty…’

‘How do you know when Karl is coming home?’ I snarl. ‘And I don’t?’ Nausea stirs in my belly. The rain is soaking through my jacket and my shoulders are damp. Water drips from my hair.

‘Because Karl wrote it in a letter.’

‘A letter? How many letters has he written to you?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘Three. That’s how many he’s written to me since he’s been away. Three. Is it more, or less, than three, Erna?’

‘More than three,’ she mumbles. ‘I’m so sorry, Hett. I knew I should have told you but Karl thought you might be upset, so I kept quiet. It was the wrong thing to do, I know that now.’

‘Don’t you dare blame Karl!’

We stare at each other through the wet darkness.

‘I’m not blaming him, I—’

‘Why would you keep this from me? Why would Karl want to keep it from me? We tell each other everything! You and I tell each other everything.’

‘Yes, we do. And I was going to tell you, honestly. I just couldn’t find the right time.’

‘That’s pathetic, Erna. You coward.’

So it was Erna’s idea. Karl would never have kept a secret from me. She has talked about it with him. Persuaded him. I imagine her whispering in his ear. Them laughing together, at my expense. Turning him away from me. My own brother! My so-called best friend!