Max ran to the back of the car where the driver had already unloaded bags and cases on to the pavement. He could feel his father watching him and, as always, Max was desperate to show him he wasn’t a weak boy, so he went straight for the biggest case.

He couldn’t even lift it off the ground.

His father shook his head and said, ‘Just my luck that I have a little squirt for a son.’

Max gritted his teeth and stared at the ground, trying to hide his reddening cheeks. Then he shook the words away. He was used to his father saying things like that; it didn’t mean anything.

‘Come on, Max, shape up,’ his father prodded him. ‘We don’t want to be here all day.’

Max picked up a couple of smaller bags and carried them into the building, then all the way up the winding marble staircase.

Mr Fischer unlocked a door on the top floor and opened it with a flourish. ‘Ta-dah!’

Max followed his parents into the grandest room he had ever seen. The lounge area was bigger than their whole apartment in Vienna had been. Along one side was a cabinet chock-full of books. On the other, a long wooden table with ornately carved legs. In the centre of the room were two large settees and an armchair in between. His mother had been right, it really did look like the kind of place royalty would live.

But the best part of it was the windows – and what was outside them. Max ran across the room to look out of the biggest window. It was taller than he was, and opened like a door. It looked out over the big square they’d driven through earlier.

‘Here,’ his father said, coming up behind Max and opening the door. Outside was a small balcony; just big enough for the three of them.

They stood together, looking out. Max’s eyes were wide as he stared down at the square below them. Lots of people were bustling about: mostly soldiers in uniforms like his father’s. Grand buildings lined the square. The grandest of them all was opposite. In the middle of the building was a tall spire that reached halfway to the clouds.

‘What’s that?’ he asked, pointing.

‘That is the town hall. I will be attending many meetings there.’ Max’s father checked his watch. ‘Come back here at midday or five p.m. and watch those figures below the clock,’ he said, pointing at what looked like giant toys sitting in an opening in the tower. ‘They do an extraordinary dance.’

Max couldn’t even imagine such a thing. He couldn’t wait to see it.

‘Come, let me show you the rest of the apartment.’