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‘I can tell her stuff in German if she don’t understand.’
    ‘Oh, that’s marvellous.’ There was great relief in Naomi’s voice. ‘Poor Lisa, she can’t understand us and we can’t understand her and it’s very difficult for everyone.’ She smiled at Hilda. ‘What’s your name?’
    ‘Hilda Lang, well Hildegarde really, but,’ she gave a rueful smile, ‘it doesn’t do to have a German name just now, does it?’
    When Hilda got home that evening, she told her mother about the new girl who had come to school.
    ‘She’s come on the train all the way from Frankfurt, Mum, by herself, and the Gestapo took her dad.’
    Esther Lang felt the familiar stab of fear, though she tried hard not to let her daughter see it. As a German Jew herself, the very mention of the Gestapo instilled terror. Her own parents were still living in Berlin in circumstances she could not imagine. They had been turned out of their home some months earlier and had moved in with Esther’s younger sister, Elsa, and her family. As far as Esther knew they were still all crammed into that tiny apartment, but she didn’t know for certain and since the declaration of war, all communication between them had ceased. Her heart went out to the child who had come all that way, seeking safety in London. A child alone.
    Esther had married Max, Hilda’s father, in the twenties when he’d been sent by his firm to work in Berlin. Hildegarde and her brother, Peter, had both been born there, but with the rise of Hitler and with anti-Semitism rife, the family had returned to London, where they had settled and Esther had become naturalised British. Both children were bilingual, as both parents knew how useful it was to know another language, but English was the language of the household.
    ‘Well, I hope you’ll help her all you can, darling,’ said her mother. ‘I don’t think she’s going to have a very easy time of it.’ She thought for a moment and then said, ‘Where did you say she was living?’
    ‘With some people called Federman over in Kemble Street.’
    ‘Is she now? I think I met them once, at Anthony Stein’s bar mitzvah. Perhaps I should pay them a call.’
    True to her word, a few days later Esther walked the mile or so to Kemble Street to introduce herself as Hilda’s mother. Naomi invited her in and they spent a pleasant half-hour, each discovering what she could about the other.
    ‘It’s good of your Hilda to help Lisa out at school,’ Naomi said. ‘It’s very difficult for her, speaking so little English. Dan and I do our best, of course, we talk to her all the time, trying to teach her, but she can’t tell us anything about the things that matter to her, about her home and her family.’
    Esther had heard a little about Lisa’s background, but she didn’t repeat it, that was for Lisa when she was able. Instead she said, ‘I was wondering if Lisa might like to come back with Hilda to our house after school sometimes. Playing with Hilda and her brother might be one of the quickest ways to help her learn English.’
    ‘Oh, Mrs Lang,’ Naomi said, ‘I think that would be a marvellous idea. Are you sure?’
    ‘Of course,’ replied Esther. ‘She’s a brave child and needs all the help she can get. Please ask her if she’d like to come and if she agrees, Hilda will bring her home after school, tomorrow.’
    That evening Naomi sat Lisa down and said, ‘Hilda’s mother asks you to go to Hilda’s house after school. Would you like to go?’
    ‘Go to Hilda?’
    ‘Yes, after school.’
    ‘Not sleep?’
    ‘No, sleep here. I will come for you.’
    Lisa’s face broke into a broad beam. ‘Yes, Aunt Naomi, I go.’
    From then on Lisa went home with Hilda after school most days. Esther forbade them to converse in German.
    ‘This is to help Lisa learn English,’ she reminded them. ‘While she is here with us we will all only speak English. You, too, Peter,’ she said to her son. ‘No cheating when you’re playing