‘It was my mother’s,’ Bette said. A memory flashed past. ‘It has writing, inside. Mutti said my father’s ring has the same, only the opposite.’

‘May I see?’ the major said.

Bette pulled the ring off and handed it to him. He took it to the light, peering at the inscription. ‘25.12.23. Hermann Fischer. 3.5.25,’ he said. ‘What does that mean?’

‘It’s the dates of their engagement and wedding,’ the nurse said.

‘May I borrow this?’ the major said.

Bette shook her head, held out her hand. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I will never let this out of my sight. Please give it back to me.’ She said it as politely as she could. The major nodded, passed it over to her. She slipped it back on her finger.

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I think we have all we need for the moment. We’ll be in touch again in a few days.’

‘Why did you ask me all those questions?’

The major smiled and the nurse translated. ‘I don’t want to get your hopes up, but we might be able to reunite you with a family member.’

‘Lieselotte?’

‘I can’t say for the moment.’

He stood up, collecting his cap, shaking the Fräulein’s hand. The UNRRA nurse smiled at her. Even the Fräulein was smiling. Bette’s heart was pounding and she knew her face was flushed, could feel the heat pumping around her body even though she could see her breath in the cold air.

§

The major returned a week later. It had snowed in the night, and a hard frost gave it a crust that crunched under foot. Bette heard him on the pavement, watched from the upstairs window, saw him step into the house. She skipped down the stairs, two at a time, knocked at the office door before the Fräulein had summoned her, stood in the lintel, her lisle stockings concertinaing round her ankles, the buttons on her coat open, revealing the dull brown dress beneath.

The nurse beckoned her. ‘Komm herein.’ Bette looked at the Fräulein. This was her domain but she nodded, smiled, as if she knew. ‘We have located your father,’ she said in German. ‘And you are to join him.’

‘In England,’ the major added. It needed no translation.

Her thoughts bounced and raced, dodgem cars in a circus ring, no reason to their journey, no destination.

‘Aren’t you happy?’ the nurse said.

Bette nodded, could stand no more, collapsed onto the floor, knees up to her chest, head banging the side of the desk as she sobbed.

Vati. She had no memory of his face, just the photograph of him and Mutti on their wedding day. Would he know her?

‘So you need to collect your things,’ the Fräulein was saying. ‘The major has your papers and you’re flying to England today.’

‘Flying?’ The words bounced off her forehead. ‘England?’

‘Lucky you.’ The Fräulein beamed. ‘An aeroplane.’