‘The time for talk is over,’ said Rudolf, though he still seemed to spend most of his evenings talking – often to Niklas, who came round to the apartment at night. They deplored the weak leadership of the Social Democrats and someone called Otto Bauer in particular. Again and again these people had missed the chance to take strong action.

Lena would often go back to her room and drink some wine on her own until Niklas had gone home. Sometimes Rudolf then called her to his bedroom. It was something she felt she had to do. Once, she pretended to herself that it was Anton inside her, hoping this might make it more bearable. Instead, it made her cry and Rudolf wanted to know why. After that, she stopped imagining.

More often by the time Niklas left, Rudolf was too tired; so Lena slept alone and didn’t see him till she took him coffee in the morning. In some ways she preferred not having to pretend, but it also made her feel unwanted, in her back room, with her model boat and her wine bottles.

One Sunday evening in February, Rudolf took her to a concert by the Workers Symphony Orchestra. In the foyer, Niklas introduced them to a young man from Carinthia who had come to persuade the party leaders to give him the arms he needed to fight off the fascist Heimwehr. At the end of the concert, everyone stood and joined in ‘The Solidarity Song’.

Lena saw the tears in Rudolf’s eyes as he sang. Afterwards, in a crowded tavern, Niklas told them that their last hopes were dying. Even the Left’s own private army, the Schutzbund, was selling out and telling the Government in advance of their plans. To Lena, it seemed that the struggle was therefore almost over. But to Niklas and to Rudolf, it was about to start.

Two days later, the police raided the headquarters of the Social Democrats in Linz, searching for weapons. The workers inside the building responded with machine-gun fire.

Rudolf came home from his office in the middle of the day, his face flushed.

‘Come on, little girl, this is it,’ he said, taking Lena by the hand.

‘What?’

‘There’s a general strike. The electricity workers have shut down the grid. We’re going to occupy the Karl Marx-Hof.’

‘Wait a minute. I need to pack.’

In her room, Lena put some warm clothes in a bag, then went to the bottom drawer of the chest and took out the letter to Anton. She added her new address, at Rudolf’s flat, placed a small package inside it and put a stamp on the envelope.

The time had come. Her only fear was that she’d left it too late.

In the hall, she took Rudolf’s hand. ‘Let’s go.’

At the same time, only a few minutes’ walk away, Anton was buying a box of chocolates from a shop he knew in Schellinggasse. He had wanted flowers, but nothing in the February window of the florists seemed cheering. He asked for their best chocolates and insisted that they wrap the box with their prettiest ribbons; then he took a cab to Döbling, where he left the package with the porter in a large block, not far from Erich’s family’s apartment.