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boots so polished. They all held their caps under their arms and seemed to be fighting with each other for Father’s attention. Bruno could only understand a few of their phrases as they travelled up to him.
    ‘… made mistakes from the moment he got here. It got to the point where the Fury had no choice but to …’ said one.
    ‘… discipline!’ said another. ‘And efficiency. We have lacked efficiency since the start of ’forty-two and without that …’
    ‘… it’s clear, it’s clear what the numbers say. It’s clear, Commandant …’ said the third.
    ‘… and if we build another,’ said the last, ‘imagine what we could do then … just imagine it …!’
    Father held a hand in the air, which immediately caused the other men to fall silent. It was as if he was the conductor of a barbershop quartet.
    ‘Gentlemen,’ he said, and this time Bruno could make out every word because there had never been a man born who was more capable of being heard from one side of a room to the other than Father. ‘Your suggestions and your encouragement are very much appreciated. And the past is the past. Here we have a fresh beginning, but let that beginning start tomorrow. For now, I’d better help my family settle in or there will be as much trouble for me in here as there is for them out there, you understand?’
    The men all broke into laughter and shook Father’s hand. As they left they stood in a row together like toy soldiers and their arms shot out in the same way that Father had taught Bruno to salute, the palm stretched flat, moving from their chests up into the air in front of them in a sharp motion as they cried out the two words that Bruno had been taught to say whenever anyone said it to him. Then they left and Father returned to his office, which was Out Of Bounds At All Times And No Exceptions.
    Bruno walked slowly down the stairs and hesitated for a moment outside the door. He felt sad that Father had not come up to say hello to him in the hour or so that he had been here, but it had been explained to him on many occasions just how busy Father was and that he couldn’t be disturbed by silly things like saying hello to him all the time. But the soldiers had left now and he thought it would be all right if he knocked on the door.
    Back in Berlin, Bruno had been inside Father’s office on only a handful of occasions, and it was usually because he had been naughty and needed to have a serious talking-to. However, the rule that applied to Father’s office in Berlin was one of the most important rules that Bruno had ever learned and he was not so silly as to think that it would not apply here at Out-With too. But since they had not seen each other in some days, he thought that no one would mind if he knocked now.
    And so he tapped carefully on the door. Twice, and quietly.
    Perhaps Father didn’t hear, perhaps Bruno didn’t knock loudly enough, but no one came to the door, so Bruno knocked again and did it louder this time, and as he did so he heard the booming voice from inside call out, ‘Enter!’
    Bruno turned the door handle and stepped inside and assumed his customary pose of wide-open eyes, mouth in the shape of an O and arms stretched out by his sides. The rest of the house might have been a little dark and gloomy and hardly full of possibilities for exploration but this room was something else. It had a very high ceiling to begin with, and a carpet underfoot that Bruno thought he might sink into. The walls were hardly visible; instead they were covered with dark mahogany shelves, all lined with books, like the ones in the library at the house in Berlin. There were enormous windows on the wall facing him, which stretched out into the garden beyond, allowing a comfortable seat to be placed in front of them, and in the centre of all this, seated behind a massive oak desk, was Father himself, who looked up from his papers when Bruno entered and broke into a wide smile.
    ‘Bruno,’ he said,