She gulped it down. Her throat was dusty and dry and the cool water washed it smooth. She’d have liked some more but knew she shouldn’t press her luck. What if he called someone, and they took her away?

‘Danke,’ she said, handing him the glass. He scowled.

She went outside. Opposite her, two women were sharing a cigarette. Bette went up to them.

‘Sorry, sonny,’ the younger of the two said. She had a gold tooth and brash lipstick. ‘I only go with the big boys.’

‘And the Yanks,’ the other, an older woman with a sagging stomach, added.

Bette looked from one to the other, unsure what they were talking about. Her hand went to her face and she felt the crust of blood on her nose.

‘Have you seen my sister?’ she said. ‘Lieselotte?’

‘Does she work round here?’

‘Work?’

‘Yeah, you heard me.’

‘No,’ Bette said. ‘She was selling a clock.’

The younger woman flung her head back and laughed, a coarse, common ha-ha-ha.

‘That’s what she called it, eh?’

Bette looked, one to the other. She didn’t like that woman. Didn’t trust her.

‘What did you do to your face, sonny?’ the older woman asked.

‘I bumped into a door,’ she said. ‘And my nose bled.’ This woman’s voice had softened and Bette warmed to her. ‘I know I look a mess but, please, I must find my sister.’ She looked at the older woman’s face, saw kindness there, enough to reassure her. ‘She didn’t come home last night,’ Bette went on. ‘She went out to sell one of Vati’s clocks, and to meet a soldier, to teach him German.’ Blurted it out. The older woman looked at her, pulled out a rag from her pocket, spat on it and gave it to Bette.

‘Here. Wipe your face with that.’

Bette took the rag, wiped her face, handed it back.

‘Don’t give it back. I don’t want it.’ The older woman smiled. She was missing two front teeth. ‘There’s lots of folks come down here selling stuff,’ she said. ‘What did your sister look like?’

Bette breathed easier. This lady would help.

‘She was a little taller than me,’ Bette began. ‘Brown hair, gold eyes. Thin.’ Added, ‘Dainty.’

‘Dainty? That could be anyone,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you go home and wait for her?’

‘I can’t,’ Bette said. ‘I can’t go home.’ She could hold it in no more. ‘There’s a Russian there. And Mutti died. I don’t know where my father is. Lieselotte said if anything should happen to go to Oma in Dahlem but I don’t know how to get there.’

The older woman looked at the younger, nodded.

‘Listen, sonny—’ she said.

‘I’m not a sonny,’ Bette said. ‘I’m a girl. Lieselotte said it was safer this way, to dress as a boy.’