‘Think of France,’ he said bitterly. ‘These are your enemies. These are the ones who drop bombs on us. In Poland they rape the women and treat the people like cattle. Our time will come.’

Marc was affronted at being hit by a man who’d never even spoken to him, but he remembered the sad look that crossed Jae Morel’s face whenever her two missing brothers were mentioned. On the other hand, Marc didn’t feel very patriotic. What had France ever done for him?

‘Blond hair and blue eyes,’ Livia said, as she looked at Marc. ‘You’d make a good little Aryan soldier.’

Marc wasn’t sure what Aryan meant, but he was excited by the sudden communication with Livia.

‘I expect they’ll take all the French boys they can get when they want to fight the British Empire,’ the wiry man said. ‘The Führer’s not fussy about whose blood he spills.’

Another huge column of troops had rounded the corner and Marc was annoyed that the wiry man was killing the mood. Livia seemed almost to read Marc’s mind.

‘Buzz off, you old misery,’ she said. ‘Nobody’s interested in what you’ve got to say. Would you rather they came through like this – or blowing up Paris, one street at a time?’

Affronted, the man turned to walk away, but before he did he scowled at Livia. ‘I fought in the last war,’ he spat. ‘Italian fascists! I suppose you’ve been on their side all along.’

Marc and Livia exchanged a look, as if to say What’s his problem?

*

An hour later, Marc was back in the house. He’d stood Henderson’s glass-fronted cabinet back up, but the collection of vases was smashed to pieces. He switched the radio on and listened to the BBC French service reporting on the orderly occupation of Paris and rumours that the French Government had begun negotiating surrender for the rest of France.

In contrast, Radio France continued to portray the surrender of Paris as a tactical withdrawal and boldly predicted a counterstrike that would sweep the Germans from French soil. Marc was twelve years old and he’d led a sheltered life, but even he could tell it was propaganda of the feeblest sort.