‘Yes. A photo of Arnie and Ella with Paulo and Lonia – the one that stood on her sideboard; and another, an old one of her husband Paulo, with the baby they lost. And – and Lonia’s blanket, the pink one that she was never without as a toddler. I’ve put those into your case, too.’ Cyrus had lowered his head and she’d seen his body jerk, in a movement that told Flors that he was crying. Although she’d thought her body drained of emotion, her own tears flowed from her.

They’d held each other, in a way they hadn’t been able to previously. Cyrus had got onto her bed and lain beside her. For the first time, Flors knew Cyrus wanted to make love to her, but she hadn’t been able to bear the thought. She’d turned away.

But now she had a happier memory. Last night they had sat and talked excitedly about the prospect of today bringing them freedom, and Cyrus had joked with her, making her laugh till she’d ended up in his arms. Then he’d made love to her and she’d accepted him willingly. It was nothing like their usual passionate joining, but was nice and gentle – a beginning.

The sound of the plane came to them now, before they caught sight of it. Flors’s heart lifted, though she prayed fervently that the pilot could take them, not taking it for granted that he would do so.

Cyrus held her closer, kissing her hair, before clinging to her. Flors’s heart now beat a different rhythm. Something wasn’t right.

‘Cyrus?’

‘Hush, darling. Don’t ask me anything. Just hold me.’

Fear zinged through Flors as the realization came to her. Cyrus hadn’t taken his rucksack out of the car that had driven them here. ‘Cyrus, no. No, please don’t leave me. I – I couldn’t help what happened. I couldn’t . . .’

‘My darling, this has nothing to do with that. I wish we’d spoken of it, but I didn’t want to cause you further pain.’

‘I thought you blamed me.’

‘No, my darling. It hurt me. It cut me in two, but I never blamed you. I just felt the terrible pain of not being able to protect you. I ran off to do that. I hoped the soldiers would follow me. I nearly won, but two escaped – the two that . . . Oh God, I’m sorry; I’m so sorry, Flors. Forgive me.’

‘I have nothing to forgive, my darling. You did all you could. And to know that you don’t blame me releases me from so much. Yes, we should have talked.’ With her thumb, Flors wiped away the tear that had trickled down Cyrus’s face. ‘But don’t leave me now, please don’t.’