‘I have to, my darling Flors. Oh, if only my mother and aunt were still alive and living in Switzerland, then you could have been with people who loved you and could have waited out the war till I came. But you have to go back to England, darling. It’s too dangerous for you here. And I have to get back to Paulo and Arnie. I have to tell them what happened, and I have to fight with them. I cannot leave.’

‘No . . . no!’

‘Oh, Flors, help me. Help me to do this, for Ella. Arnie will have organized the Resistance by now and may have agents in from Britain. If he knows what has happened, he may be able to save Ella. Remember, darling, that dear Ella is a Jew. What if they find that out? Oh God, it doesn’t bear thinking about. And little Lonia, she will perish, too. But who knows what she will tell the Germans, before she does so? Help me. Flors, help me to help them.’

Clinging to him as they both sobbed, Flors knew Cyrus was right. If he stayed and found Arnie, then Arnie could do something to save Ella. She had to make this sacrifice. For her dear friend, she had to.

‘Go with my blessing, my darling Cyrus. I love you so much. And if it is possible, I love you even more for this courageous act.’ Flors’s heart was breaking as she said the words she least wanted to say.

‘Thank you. Now, I can do this. And I will find Arnie and, together, we will save Ella and Lonia, I promise.’

His kiss was made with quivering lips, as his emotion almost spilled over. Leaning back, Cyrus looked intently at her. ‘I have put most of the money we have into your haversack, because paying the pilot will take all of Ella’s money, but I need a little, to help me to get back to Hérault. Now, you know how to access the money in our bank in England. There is plenty there for your needs. Take care, my darling. Don’t get involved in anything dangerous. Help the war effort by knitting, or something.’

‘Knitting!’ Flors felt a smile coming to her. ‘Knitting, indeed. I’m more likely to be an ambulance driver, or something like that.’

‘Oh, Flors, I know. But promise me it won’t be anything more dangerous than that. Promise me.’

‘I promise.’

The noise from the plane was now too great to talk over, as the pilot landed expertly on the landing strip.

‘Go, my darling – and my love goes with you.’

‘Oh, Cyrus. Cyrus!’

‘Let go, my darling; let go and walk to the plane. I will wait to make sure the pilot will take you. Wave to me with a smile. I need that. I need your help, Flors.’