‘Because I know your granddad didn’t. We used to meet up for a drink now and then, and he admitted that he’d never told you. I thought he was wrong. I think you deserved to know what made him the man he was.’ Holtz reached out with his bony fingers and covered the other man’s hand with his. ‘I don’t know for sure, but I expect it was not easy being brought up by him. But you have to know that, if he was harsh to you, he did it for your own protection. He didn’t want to risk you turning into the kind of boy he was, with all the consequences that could bring with it.

‘Men like me and your granddad, we might know with our heads that the Nazis aren’t coming back, that nobody is going to do to our children and grand-children what was done to us. But deep down, we’re still terrified that there are bastards out there who would do the same thing to the people we love. Those doctors, they didn’t come out of nowhere. The monsters weren’t just there for one generation. They never paid the price for what they did, you know. They carried on, respected and well rewarded, climbing to the top of their so-called profession, using what they’d learned to train the ones who came after them. There are still monsters out there, only they’re better hidden now. Or they’re somewhere else. So, you should know that whatever he did to you that might have seemed cruel or heartless, it was done with the best of motives. He was trying to save you.’

He had pulled his hand back then. He couldn’t bear the dry papery feel of old skin against his own. His head hurt, a dull ache starting at the base of his skull and spreading outwards like steel fingers squeezing his brain. He felt the familiar blackness rising inside him, swallowing all his pleasure in saying a last farewell to his grandfather. He didn’t know how to deal with what he’d just been told, and physical contact with this ruined old man wasn’t helping. ‘I have to go,’ he said. ‘My crew. They’re waiting.’

Holtz stared down at the table. ‘I understand,’ he said.

On the drive back to town, they sat in silence, each staring out at the road ahead. When they reached the outskirts, Holtz said, ‘You can let me out here. I can catch a bus. I don’t want to put you out.’ He reached into his pocket and took out a slip of paper. ‘I wrote down my address and phone number. If you want to talk some more about this, call me.’

Holtz got out in the gathering gloom of the afternoon and walked off without a backward glance. They both knew they’d never meet again.