‘Of course. Take a seat, anywhere you like,’ Lena says, giving us a quick glance.

Walter pours some more tea from the pot. It’s lukewarm when I take a mouthful.

‘It doesn’t have to be like that,’ he says quietly. ‘You could be whatever you want, Jew or non-Jew. Scientist. Lawyer. Doctor. Friends with whoever you want. Marry who you want.’

His words are seductive, just like Hitler’s. Different words. Different promises. I feel like a butterfly tossed in a stiff breeze.

‘I’ve never been away from here. I have no idea what it would be like. Have you?’

‘No.’ He shakes his head, and slumps in his seat.

Who is right? And who is wrong?

Lena is back.

‘Can I get you anything else?’ Her dark eyes are troubled.

‘No. All fine, Lena, thank you,’ Walter says without taking his eyes off me.

I stare back into Walter’s flecked and beautiful eyes. The seduction of them. They pull me in so irresistibly, but I must resist. I have to stop this before I fall, completely.

‘I should go.’ I push my teacup to the centre of the table and stand up.

I try to see Walter for what he is. No ordinary boy, but a Jew who has tried to seduce me.

‘Yes,’ is all he says, sweeping a hand through his unruly hair.

‘I probably won’t come on Sunday. I think it would be for the best.’

‘Yes,’ he says again, not meeting my eyes. ‘As you say. It would probably be for the best.’

‘And just so you know,’ I whisper as I pass him by, ‘I never did tell Vati about Erna’s father. I didn’t have the guts.’

3 November 1937

Before I go to sleep I scratch words onto the pages of my journal:

I know I shouldn’t care. I shall probably never see you again. But I hate that you should think badly of me. Why does it even matter so much? You’re a Jew. You have no right to my heart. I’m worth more than you could ever be. You are pig-headed. You see things only from your side. You’re underhand and devious, the way you have wriggled yourself into my heart and soul. Into my head. I can think of nothing but you, and how I’m desperate to be with you, but know I shan’t ever be again. You turn everything I’ve ever known on its head, and you make me think about things I shouldn’t have to think about. I was happy, before. I knew right from wrong. Now everything is confused and broken. I want to hate you for it, Walter Keller. But I can’t. Could it be that I’ve fallen in love? Is this how it feels?

*

When I arrive at the afternoon’s BDM gathering, the first person I see is Erna, rolling bandages. She sees me too and quickly looks away. It will have to be me who makes the first move. What to say? I have missed you dreadfully, dearest friend, I’ve been such a fool. Oh, and I’ve kept a much worse truth from you than you kept from me. Can you forgive me?