Then, earlier this year, things had changed between us. We’d been walking in the park on a Saturday afternoon when she stopped and looked at me. And I don’t know if it was the sun that caught her hair, the depth in her brown eyes or just a sudden attack of bravery on my part – but I kissed her.

When the kiss was over, she said, ‘About time!’ and laughed. Then I took her hand, and for the first time we walked hand in hand through the park. I felt that if she hadn’t been there, connecting me to the earth, I might have floated up into the sky with happiness.

I’d held off from telling Mama in case it made her sad to remember what it was like to have someone who made you smile when she didn’t have Papa. But last night I’d told Annie that I loved her and she’d said the same back – and I couldn’t hold it back from Mama any longer. Surely she wouldn’t be sad to know her son was happy. And she needed good news more than ever right now.

She looked at me in silence for half a minute. And then she broke out into the biggest smile.

‘Leo! A girlfriend! Oh, my sweet boy!’ She held her arms wide and pulled me towards her. I reached down to hug her back.

Suddenly my mother was alive again. ‘I will put the kettle on and then you must tell me all about her,’ she said. ‘What is her name, how old is she, how did you meet?’ She paused to wag a finger at me. ‘And why are you only telling me now?’

‘How do you know I haven’t just met her?’ I asked, laughing.

Mama raised an eyebrow. ‘Because I am your mother,’ she said. ‘I knew there was something. I have seen a change in you. I didn’t know what it was but now that I do, it is obvious. You have a girl, you have something to live your days for.’

As I followed her into the kitchen, I chewed on a nail. ‘You don’t mind?’ I asked nervously.

Mama whirled around and took hold of my arms. ‘Mind? Do I mind?’ she asked. ‘My dearest boy, I could not be happier. This is what I need. Something to feel joyful about.’

We sat together at the table and I told her all about Annie. She was Jewish, like me. She was fifteen, like I was. She had come to England on the Kindertransport almost five years ago and lived with foster parents ever since. She hadn’t seen or heard anything from her parents since they waved her off at a railway station in Berlin when she was ten years old.