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‘Fine. You’re right, justice has… changed.

Whatever the reason that was given for the Unterwald round-up, it’s part of a wider sweep.

Jews are being interned, or moved out of their homes and relocated, across the entire country, for their own protection.

Given where we are, it’s most likely that your parents have been sent to the prison camp at Dachau.

’ He stopped and sucked in a breath that told Noemi more than she wanted.

‘I don’t know much about that place either, except that it’s…

well, challenging might be a good way to describe it from what I’ve heard.

And I can’t help them, although I wish I could, but whatever else happens, I don’t want you put in there too.

So let me help you instead, please. That’s all I want to do – I swear it. ’

For their own protection.

He could believe that old lie. Noemi didn’t.

But she came down the ladder anyway, chilled by the look in his eyes when he’d said Dachau.

She wasn’t sure how much she could trust him or anyone, but at least now there was a reason for going to Munich.

From the little she knew of the camp, it was close to the city.

If Hauke and Frieda were there, she might be able to find a way to get them out.

They edged around each other, avoiding eye contact, staying out of each other’s reach. Pascal had brought her a bag with food and money, some hot water for washing and clean clothes he told her to change into.

‘They’re my mother’s, but she’s altered them so they’ll fit you. It’s important you look… It’s important you don’t attract the wrong kind of attention.’

He didn’t say, clean and tidy and not like a Jew, but Noemi heard that anyway. She knew the stereotypes. But she was too embarrassed at what he said next to take issue with him.

‘If we meet anyone on the way to the station, which we shouldn’t given how early it is, I’ll have to pretend we’re a couple to protect you. Do you understand what I mean?’

He’ll have to pull me into his arms. He’ll have to kiss me so my face is hidden.

What had once been the best thing she could imagine was suddenly the worst. She couldn’t let herself be that vulnerable to him again.

She also couldn’t argue and put them both in danger.

She nodded and turned away, waiting for him to go outside so she could change into the summer skirt and jacket Carina had sent.

That done, she bundled her old clothes under a pile of sacks for Pascal or Carina to collect later and – mindful of not drawing attention in Munich – she added her identity papers, which were stamped with a letter J and the middle name Sarah which all Jewish women were legally obliged to use.

It felt as if she was shedding one skin with no idea what the next would look like or even if it would fit.

And she didn’t have time to fret about it.

But she did have one last thing to leave behind, so she called him back in.

‘You should take this.’

She held out the blue enamelled locket. Pascal stared at it as if he didn’t know what it was.

‘It’s your mother’s, the one you left for me in the hut after…’ She couldn’t finish the sentence, and she didn’t understand why Pascal’s eyes had suddenly reddened.

‘I thought you must have thrown it away. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had. You didn’t give it back, and my mother’s never mentioned you wearing it.’

‘That’s because I didn’t wear it.’

That wasn’t strictly true, but it was all Noemi would give him. She’d never been able to explain why she’d kept the locket – or worn it in her room or tucked into her dress on the days and nights when loneliness overwhelmed her – to herself. She wasn’t about to let him think it mattered now.

‘And I can’t take it with me. No Jew would still have a piece of jewellery like this – wearing it would get me picked up in a heartbeat. You need to return it to your mother.’

He took it; he didn’t argue. There was too much truth in her words. He stowed it away in his pocket and followed her out of the barn.

They met no one on the way to the station, to her relief; there was no need for him to hold her and test her resolve. When they reached the empty platform, the line was already starting to hum.

‘What do I do when I get there?’

She was finally leaving Unterwald after years of thinking that was the only sensible thing to do.

But the circumstances were all wrong, and she wasn’t ready.

She was alone. She didn’t know Munich; the visit to the prison had been her first and last time in the city.

She didn’t know its rhythms or its rules, or who she was supposed to be when she got there.

And for all she’d tried to keep the panic from her voice, Pascal heard it.

‘Don’t be Jewish. Get new papers however you can. Be you – watchful and careful and braver than anybody I know. And be safe, Noemi. For my sake, be safe.’

His eyes added so much to his words, Noemi felt herself faltering.

She took a sudden, unplanned step towards him, but the train was approaching and there was no time to waver.

Pascal had already explained that it would slow to a crawl as it passed through the station, so the guard could throw the town’s mail bags onto the platform.

That she would only have a moment or two when it did so to jump into one of the open wagons at the back.

They hadn’t discussed what would happen if all the freight cars were sealed up, or if she missed her footing, or if the train didn’t slow down.

There was no time to discuss it now. The front carriages were already alongside the platform.

She didn’t have a moment; she had seconds.

The doors on the last carriage were open.

Noemi sprinted out from the hedgerow where they’d been hiding.

She jumped with all her force, swung herself over the wagon’s edge and landed on the hard wooden floor as the train began to pick up speed.

She was winded, but she was in one piece. She’d done it.

But I didn’t say a proper goodbye.

She scrambled up off her knees and turned back to the open door, not caring if anyone saw her. Pascal was heading to the Russian front, into a battle Herr Distel had predicted would be the biggest bloodbath to come.

Never mind not saying goodbye, I’ve let him go without telling him the truth.

She told him then. She flung the ‘I love you’ she’d sworn never to say out into the dawn.

But the train was roaring at top speed down the tracks and twisting away from Unterwald.

She shouted the words again, telling herself that the wind was strong and the wind would carry them.

It was too late. The station was no bigger than a speck in the dust. Pascal was gone.

And the love which she’d carried and fought against for so long could never be more than a memory.