Stephani’s home was Landeck near the village of Emmendingen, right in the heart of the Black Forest. There were old ruined castles and we could see the snow on the Swiss mountains. The woods were covered with bluebells and lilies of the valley in great patches everywhere.

Sitting one day on the verandah - we had all our meals out of doors - I saw, in the distance, a cart being dragged up the hill by two oxen. It was quite tiny being so far off but gradually, as it got nearer, I saw my lost trunk being brought at last. Nearer and nearer it came - so very slowly.

I had time to rush and call Steffy. I was without money as usual and wondered if there would be anything to pay. It transpired that the man demanded twenty marks - nearly one pound. We were all hard up so I knocked up Karl and he paid.

Steffy laughed and said, “Now you’ll have to marry him.”

I said, “No - no - no - NO!”

I was very uncomfortable after this as Stephanie said that he was in love with me and wanted to marry me.

“He doesn’t - no -no - I don’t want to hear.”

But I was so happy about my box and we both went off, arm in arm, to unpack. I came upon my beautiful grey coat which was tailor-made and lined with scarlet silk. I immediately presented it to Stephani. At first she would not take it but I insisted

I want out with Iris and Marianne. Iris was six years old and Marianne was three. We picked many flowers and walked up a bank studied with violets. There were mountains of gold flowers and everywhere looked like coloured hills. We could see all the way to Frieburg.

The tempo of life was far gentler than Paris. I seemed to be flung into the fourth dimension - head first. ‘Un beau plongen!’ The houses which looked like small white palaces were scattered. Some were so high up that their lights at night looked like stars. One night I told Edmund the stars were rather low. He laughed and said, “They are lights from various windows up  

and down the valley.” The fir trees reminded me of the fir trees far away on Brasted Chart.

A musician named Iga Kertov - the pianist - came one evening. He was handsome and his voice was his charm.

“Sprechen sie Deutch, Fraulein?”

“Nein - nein,” I said.

He looked disappointed as he was not good at English and would not attempt it.

He played Chopin’s ‘Mazurka in B Flat’. The gay and restless beauty enchanted me. The delicacy and ease going from one master to another. He played the ‘The Moonlight Sonata’. Echoes of beauty sank and died away. I was asked to play but I dared not. My spirit sank within me. How could I? After Iga Kertov?

Stephani’s garden was an enormous one. The house itself was built like an old farm and there was an exquisite green, smooth lawn - like velvet. There were clumps of Christmas trees with very high points.

Along the border was a kitchen garden and herbs were laid out in squares - all very orderly. There were clumps of borage. The leaves were picked sometimes to float on bowls of wine to give it a certain flavour. Bushes of lavender and other flowers gave out an aroma not to be forgotten.

Stephani worked hard with her radish beds and lettuce and onions, carrots and other vegetables - all growing in perfect lines with borders of green parsley.The vineyards were beyond the garden and the grapes hung on huge poles - like our hops in Kent. Peasants came and picked baskets of them. Some grapes came to our table - the best of them - and the rest went to market.

Reitza was the one maid who lived in. Madame Denise came to stay and smoked cigarettes all day - one after the other - which annoyed Edmund and then Stephanie said she would take me to see her mother at Karlsruhe.