The Stewarts had done at least as much for me. They’d found me a place at the local school. They’d converted Mr Stewart’s study into a bedroom for me. They’d even paid to have an English teacher visit twice a week to give me extra lessons.

I could speak pretty good English now. I just couldn’t get rid of my accent. That was the issue. Well, it was one of them. That and the fact that I still felt scared every time we left the house. I still flinched when anyone came to the door. I still expected to be told to stand up and move to the back of the room every single morning in assembly.

It was like walking around in a minefield, or being in a permanent nightmare. Sometimes I wondered if Mama felt the same way. I couldn’t ask her, though. I couldn’t run the risk of upsetting her by letting her know how hard I was finding things.

Every now and then, I would leave my worries behind. Remind myself we were in England now. We were safe. Those moments were like gasping for air after being held underwater. But something would always happen to dunk me back into my nightmare again.

And being teased by the other boys at school didn’t help.

‘See you later,’ I said from the doorway, my practised smile bright on my face.

Mama got up from the table and came to kiss me on the cheek. ‘Have a lovely day, darling.’

‘I will of course. I always do!’ I said in my rehearsed cheerful manner.

‘You’re such a good boy. I’m so glad you’re happy here,’ she said.

I smiled again. I didn’t reply this time. I couldn’t force any more lies out of my mouth.

Mama waved me off at the door as she did each morning, and I waved back and walked up the road to wait for the bus.

The trouble began at the bus stop, as usual.

‘Hey, look, it’s the Kraut,’ said Tim, one of the boys in my year. He was taller than the rest of us and had white-blond hair and blue eyes. He was one of the most popular boys in my year, which meant everyone copied what he did.

Tim had had it in for me from the moment I’d arrived. At first, I couldn’t understand most of what he said, but the downside of picking up English so quickly meant that I soon came to realize he insulted me every time he saw me.

‘How are you today, Jerry?’ one of Tim’s sidekicks, Robert, asked.

‘I’m not called Jerry,’ I mumbled to the ground as I sidled up to the bus stop.