‘So you told me,’ she said, adding, ‘Where is this leading?’

‘This is what I’m trying to tell you.’ How would she understand? He couldn’t tell her the truth. ‘A man was involved.’

‘You’re not making sense.’

He swallowed. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m not. Let me start again.’

A pigeon came towards them, pecking at the ground. John flicked his hand, watched it fly off, lazy wings barely lifting it. It landed a few yards away.

‘It was a young woman who gave me lessons.’

‘A young woman?’

‘Yes.’

It sounded so corny now, a young soldier, a young woman.

‘What was her name?’ She stared ahead, without looking at him. ‘Was that the person you bought the clock from? For five cigarettes?’ Her voice was bitter.

‘The clock?’ he said. ‘Does it matter?’

She nodded, brushing her skirt for imaginary crumbs, pleating the hem so it draped in folds.

‘I don’t want to hear any more,’ she said. She was close to tears. Was she jealous? Jealous.

‘Betty, I didn’t love her, not like I love you,’ he blurted out. ‘If that’s what you’re thinking.’

‘You have no idea what I’m thinking. What was her name?’

‘Hear me out.’

‘Tell me her name.’

‘Will you listen if I tell you her name?’

‘Don’t bargain with me,’ she said. Her nostrils fanned with fury. She let go of her skirt and gripped the handle of her bag, knuckles white and bare.

‘Her name was Lieselotte.’

She stared at him, mouthing, Lieselotte.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Berlin: July 1945

‘Why can’t I come?’ Bette pivoted on the kitchen stool as Lieselotte placed the bowls in the sink. ‘Why do I have to be here alone?’

‘You’ll be in the way.’ Lieselotte with her I know better, I’m in charge now voice. ‘See if Greta’s free. Perhaps she’ll stay with you.’

‘Where are you going that I can’t come?’

‘Nowhere secret.’ She flicked a tea towel at Bette. ‘Kurfürstendamm again.’

‘I won’t get in your way.’

‘Bette, will you leave it, please? The Americans haggle and you’d only be a distraction.’

‘But the British?’

‘They’re not so bad. Afterwards I’m meeting that soldier.’

‘The one who wants to learn German?’

‘Yes, Bette.’ Lieselotte smiled. ‘His German is very old-fashioned. Like Großvater’s.’

‘And where are you meeting him this time?’

‘At the Lichtensteinbrücke.’

‘Why there?’

‘It’s quiet.’

Bette swung herself off the stool, padded after her sister into the sitting room. ‘It’s a long way,’ she said. ‘How do you get there?’

‘Walking, obviously,’ Lieselotte said. ‘It’s not so far.’ She bit her lip, added, ‘If you’re not hungry.’

‘What’s his name?’

Lieselotte stood and stared at Bette. ‘I can’t remember. It’s not important.’

It made her nervous, not knowing what went on. Lieselotte had been catapulted into the world of grown-ups, leaving her behind.