Maud’s tone became emotional. ‘My husband has dedicated himself, his life, his entire being to making this country free and prosperous. I will not be the cause of his giving up his life’s work. If he loses that, he loses his soul.’

Ethel pushed the point in a way that only an old friend could. ‘Still,’ she said, ‘there must be a temptation to take your children to safety.’

‘A temptation? You mean a longing, a yearning, a desperate desire!’ She began to cry. ‘Carla has nightmares about Brownshirts, and Erik puts on that shit-coloured uniform every chance he gets.’ Lloyd was startled by her fervour. He had never heard a respectable woman say ‘shit’. She went on: ‘Of course I want to take them away.’ Lloyd could see how torn she was. She rubbed her hands together as if washing them, turned her head from side to side in distraction, and spoke in a voice that shook violently with her inner conflict. ‘But it’s the wrong thing to do, for them as well as for us. I will not give in to it! Better to suffer evil than to stand by and do nothing.’

Ethel touched Maud’s arm. ‘I’m sorry I asked. Perhaps it was silly of me. I might have known you wouldn’t run away.’

‘I’m glad you asked,’ Walter said. He reached out and took Maud’s slim hands in his own. ‘The question has been hanging in the air between Maud and me, unspoken. It was time we faced it.’ Their joined hands rested on the café table. Lloyd rarely thought about the emotional lives of his mother’s generation – they were middle-aged and married, and that seemed to say it all – but now he saw that between Walter and Maud there was a powerful connection that was much more than the familiar habit of a mature marriage. They were under no illusions: they knew that by staying here they were risking their lives and the lives of their children. But they had a shared commitment that defied death.

Lloyd wondered whether he would ever have such a love.

Ethel looked at the clock. ‘Oh, my goodness!’ she said. ‘We’re going to miss the train!’

Lloyd picked up their bags and they hurried across the platform. A whistle blew. They boarded the train just in time. They both leaned out of the window as it pulled out of the station.

Walter and Maud stood on the platform, waving, getting smaller and smaller in the distance, until finally they disappeared.

2

1935

‘Two things you need to know about girls in Buffalo,’ said Daisy Peshkov. ‘They drink like fish, and they’re all snobs.’

Eva Rothmann giggled. ‘I don’t believe you,’ she said. Her German accent had almost completely vanished.

‘Oh, it’s true,’ said Daisy. They were in her pink-and-white bedroom, trying on clothes in front of a full-length three-way mirror. ‘Navy and white might look good on you,’ Daisy said. ‘What do you think?’ She held a blouse up to Eva’s face and studied the effect. The contrasting colours seemed to suit her.