‘There will be war,’ I predicted. ‘The Government is preparing an Emergency Powers Act and we will go to war if Herr Hitler invades Poland. Mr Chamberlain and the Foreign Secretary, Lord Halifax, are hanging back but the rest of the cabinet will force them to honour our international obligations.’

‘You have good information,’ he said.

‘I read voluminously,’ I replied, with odious superiority.

‘We make good team,’ he decided. ‘I have genius for interpretation but no information. You have good information, but no analysis.’

At this moment, Mortimer Simmonds coughed at my door and asked for the favour of a quiet word. Dovidl deftly slipped outside. Exhilarated by our conversation, the longest and least stuttered I had ever enjoyed, I resented the interruption – even by so rare a privilege as exclusive parental attention.

‘I trust I’m not disturbing,’ said Father. I shook my head.

‘Martin,’ he ventured, ‘I need to discuss with you in confidence a matter I have not yet raised with your mother, who is still asleep. It requires your consent, as much as mine and hers.’

I nodded gravely, encouraging him to continue. Like me, he was not the most liquid of conversationalists.

‘The two visitors downstairs,’ he continued, ‘one of whom you have met, are Mr Rapoport and his son, David, from Warsaw. Mr Rapoport is a trader in costume jewellery. His son, David, is a gifted young violinist who is about to study with the celebrated Professor Flesch, whom you may have heard me mention.

‘Professor Flesch, himself a celebrated soloist, has a remarkable record as a private teacher. Almost everyone he accepts as a pupil emerges as a fully fledged soloist. To be accepted by Professor Flesch is a virtual guarantee of musical success. He lives not far from here, in Canfield Gardens, but is presently away at a summer resort on the Belgian coast. The boy you have just been playing with is his latest discovery.

‘However, a serious complication has arisen and the boy’s father has been directed to me by Professor Flesch for assistance. While organising lodgings in London for the boy and himself, Mr Rapoport has received word from Warsaw that his wife is unwell. He needs to return to look after her and, I believe, other children. He has booked a passage tomorrow and plans to take David with him because the boy is too young to be left here on his own.

‘Professor Flesch, with whom I have spoken on the telephone, fears that any interruption of tuition at this stage could be detrimental to his artistic development. He has asked me whether we might look after the boy – whom he strongly recommends as a future prospect – for a few months, perhaps, until Mr Rapoport can gather up his family and possessions and, having secured the necessary permits, return to London once his wife is well enough to travel.