‘Yes,’ he said. He flicked the cup, so it rang again. ‘Bea’s parents had thrown her out. They were Roman Catholic, so was Bea. So she stayed with my mother, who looked after Margaret until I came out of prison and came to my senses. I’ve told you that bit already.’

Dora nodded.

‘Margaret was illegitimate,’ Geoffrey went on. ‘Sir Leonard made sure of that. She had to live with that stigma and I’ve been pretty much ostracised ever since.’ He chewed his lip, a worried expression on his face. ‘I think that’s why maybe she went with that German.’

Dora had all but forgotten that.

‘What I did was shocking. A real scandal at the time. But this is what really enrages me.’ He looked up and Dora saw once more the fury in his face, his jawbone set firm and hard. ‘What really gets under my skin is that the very same man fathered at least one child out of wedlock, possibly two. Common knowledge, but he never acknowledged them. Hypocritical bastard.’

‘And Vanessa?’

‘She married a couple of years later, moved to England. I never heard from her again.’

He pushed himself up from the table so the chair juddered on the floor. ‘What was that?’

‘Your chair,’ she said.

‘No. That.’

Dora listened. ‘I can’t hear anything.’

‘Listen.’

Dora strained her ears. In the distance, the unmistakable clug of a Kübelwagen. The noise was coming closer.

‘It’s at the top of the hill,’ Geoffrey said, pushing himself away from the table. ‘Coming this way. More than one.’ He stood up, pointing to the ceiling. ‘Tell them to keep still. Lie low. Hide. Under the blankets. Not a movement.’ He grabbed Dora’s arm, pulled her to her feet, handed her the key. ‘Hurry.’

Dora ran out of the room, up the stairs, two at a time, her heart beating fast. Into the attic, Soldaten, Soldaten. Finger to her lips, as she signalled to them to scrunch up under a blanket. She folded another blanket, and another, half and half again, laid it on the top, so it looked like a pile. Pathetic. Tiptoed back across the floor, locked the door, down to the landing. She could hear the hammering. Why wasn’t he answering it? Had he escaped? Left her? She dared not go down in case they saw her through the window. Perhaps he was hoping they’d think the house was empty, unoccupied. Would leave. But her bike was outside. They’d know someone was in.

Hammering at the back door too. Dora could taste the metal of adrenalin, could feel her muscles and tendons quiver, on your marks, get steady…

Go. A crash as the wood splintered. Dora could hear the soldiers, butting the panels with their guns, opening up.

‘What do you want?’ Geoffrey’s voice, calm in the storm. ‘How dare you.’