‘Yes, it is helping. It’s getting it out of my head.’ His hand squeezed Marjie’s even tighter. ‘I was in solitary – a box; it was dark and there was no room to move. I don’t know how long for, but then suddenly it was opened and I was grabbed by the hand. I could hardly walk and collapsed on the floor. Strong arms lifted me and ran with me. My mouth was so dry, I couldn’t speak to ask what was happening. This went on for a long time. Then I was put down and given a drink. And I asked who the man was. It was a man called Maximilian, a circus strongman; we’d made friends back in our training days. I don’t know how he got free from his cell or managed to open the box I was in. I – I never got the chance to ask, I was too weak and slept as he carried me all night.

‘We sheltered in an old barn that housed hayricks and Maximilian said he would get us food. He went out and didn’t come back. I heard Germans shouting to one another, and shots. I crawled under the hay. They came in . . . they were so close, I could almost touch them. They dug their bayonets into the hay, but missed me. When they left, I waited for hours until it was dark and then started my journey home. I never knew what happened to Maximilian.’ A sob escaped Randie, but soon turned into a torrent of weeping and calling out incoherently. Marjie clung to him.

‘Marjella, what has happened? Randolph! Randie, my son, Papa is here.’

‘He has talked, Papa. He has told me all he has been through.’

‘That is good, darling. You’ll be all right, Randie; now you can begin to face it all and come to terms with it. You will, son, you will.’

They held each other, the three of them, trying to glean comfort from being together. Trying to come to a place of understanding of all they had had to face, and of what the future held.

As Sibbie entered, they looked up in silent expectation.

‘Marjie, the plane’s due.’

Marjie let go of her papa and Randie and, hardly daring to ask, whispered, ‘What did they say, Sibbie?’

‘Yes, they will lift Randie out as well.’

Randie released a sound that was between a gasp of joy and a sob. Papa did the same. ‘You’re going to be all right, Randie, my son. Mama and I will take care of you.’