‘Wait here. If you try to get away, I will do you harm. Just sit down and wait.’

Lilly had no fight left. She sank into an armchair. The nurse went out into the hallway and shouted something. Then again. It sounded like ‘Maman’.

A minute or two later, the nurse returned followed by an older woman with grey hair and a brown shawl about her shoulders. She was carrying a baby of about two weeks in her arms, and a bottle. The nurse took the baby from the old woman and thrust it into Lilly’s arms.

‘This is my nephew, Maurice,’ she said. ‘His mother is dead, thanks to your German friends. Her husband, also named Maurice, was lined up against a wall and shot dead as a hostage on the day of the Allied landing. It was too much for Mireille. Three days ago she threw herself into the Seine and drowned. She killed herself, but to all intents and purposes, the Germans killed her. So now you will feed Maurice with your milk. And if you do this, I will feed you.’

Lilly at last met the nurse’s eyes and saw only bitterness. But her breasts were swollen and the warmth and the smell of the baby touched her to her core. He had the same smell as Nathalie, and the same soft skin. She opened her coat and unbuttoned her blouse and offered a nipple to the baby’s mouth. At first it seemed bemused, as though it had never done this before.

‘Let me help you,’ the older woman said. ‘Come, the boy is accustomed to the breast.’ She stepped forward and knelt at Lilly’s side. Gently, she moved the baby’s mouth to the nipple and extracted a little milk with her fingers, like a farm wife milking a cow. At last the baby’s instinct took over and he latched his little pink mouth on to her nipple and began to suck.

Lilly looked down on the baby with overwhelming love, and tears began to fall from her eyes.

Late summer, 1945

‘Is this some strange attempt at humour, Major?’

‘No, this really happened.’

‘But who was she? You must have asked.’

‘Of course, but she wasn’t very forthcoming. All she told us was that her name was Lilly Marais and that Boden was her fiancé. She asked us to tell him that she could be contacted at the Apfelwald Displaced Persons camp. She didn’t seem to understand that Julius Boden was a wanted man. She said she would wait for him however long it took.’

‘And she suggested they were to get married?’

‘That was her version. He might have had a different view of things, of course. He wouldn’t be the first soldier to promise a girl marriage and then leave her in the lurch.’

‘Anything more? You said she was from France, but where exactly?’