It seemed like a fairy story, nothing to do with real life; but all the same Lloyd was intrigued and troubled. ‘And you think I was the baby in some such pretence?’

‘I think Lady Maud Fitzherbert had a love affair with a gardener, or a coal miner, or perhaps a charming rogue in London; and she got pregnant. She went away somewhere to give birth in secret. Your mother agreed to pretend the baby was hers, and in exchange she was given a house.’

Lloyd was struck by a corroborating thought. ‘She’s always been evasive whenever I’ve asked about my real father.’ That now seemed suspicious.

‘There you are! There never was a Teddy Williams. To maintain her respectability, your mother said she was a widow. She called her fictional late husband Williams to avoid the problem of changing her name.’

Lloyd shook his head in disbelief. ‘It seems too fantastic.’

‘She and Maud continued friends, and Maud helped raise you. In 1933 your mother took you to Berlin because your real mother wanted to see you again.’

Lloyd felt as if he were either dreaming or just waking up. ‘You think I’m Maud’s child?’ he said incredulously.

Daisy tapped the frame of the picture she was still holding. ‘And you look just like your grandfather!’

Lloyd was bewildered. It could not be true – yet it made sense. ‘I’m used to Bernie not being my real father,’ he said. ‘Is Ethel not my real mother?’

Daisy must have seen a look of helplessness on his face, for she leaned forward and touched him – something she did not generally do – and said: ‘I’m sorry, have I been brutal? I just want you to see what’s in front of your eyes. If Peel suspects the truth, don’t you think others may too? It’s the kind of news you want to hear from someone who . . . from a friend.’

A gong sounded distantly. Lloyd said mechanically: ‘I’d better go to the mess for lunch.’ He took the photograph out of its frame and slipped it into a pocket of his uniform jacket.

‘You’re upset,’ Daisy said anxiously.

‘No, no. Just . . . astonished.’

‘Men always deny that they’re upset. Please come and see me later.’

‘All right.’

‘Don’t go to bed without talking to me again.’

‘I won’t.’

He left the junk room and made his way upstairs to the grand dining room, now the mess. He ate his canned beef mince automatically, his mind in turmoil. He took no part in the discussion at table about the battle raging in Norway.

‘Having a daydream, Williams?’ said Major Lowther.

‘Sorry, sir,’ Lloyd said mechanically. He improvised an excuse. ‘I was trying to remember which was the higher German rank, Generalleutnant or Generalmajor.’

Lowther said: ‘Generalleutnant is higher.’ Then he added quietly: ‘Just don’t forget the difference between meine Frau and deine Frau.’

Lloyd felt himself blush. So his friendship with Daisy was not as discreet as he had imagined. It had even come to Lowther’s notice. He felt indignant: he and Daisy had done nothing improper. Yet he did not protest. He felt guilty, even though he was not. He could not put his hand on his heart and swear that his intentions were pure. He knew what Granda would say: ‘Whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.’ That was the no-bullshit teaching of Jesus and there was a lot of truth in it.