And then then we emigrated. I remember leaving the flat. It had a huge heap of clothes and belongings, knick-knacks lying in the middle of the floor. And I saw a hairband which I so much wanted, I took the hairband with me to London. I wore- used to wear it here. And then we travelled, or we said goodbye first of all in Kassel. It was- it was a dreadful, miserable day, with- it’s all grey. Tante Minna was at the station, as was some other friend of hers. And it was- we said goodbye and we would never see them again. And we went to Mönchengladbach by train. And we had some- my father had a bit of money to spare. We were only allowed to take out the equivalent of ten pounds, I think it is. And there was a shop there, which did not have a sign saying ‘Juden unerwünscht’ – Juden- Jews unwanted. And he went in there and bought a wristwatch, which he never wore, because he hated wristwatches. And whilst he was doing that, we- my mother and I went into a phone box. And I was to look out to see that nobody observed us. And- and while I was looking out, she phoned her mother and father in Bonn and said goodbye, and wept. And I’d never seen my mother cry before and I was very upset and also cried.
I was always on the wrong side of the fence. Always. And have ever- have been all my life. That’s just the way it is. I desperately wanted to be English when I was at the school, and I would have liked to have stayed in England, but it didn’t happen. And gradually I got used to being in Germany but I never identified with that either. I mean, I like- I like the countryside. I like the woods and fields. And I like the Kaffee und Kuchen. But as far as anything else was concerned, I never really felt that- I never felt at home anywhere. And the only place I really felt at home was at home, in the four walls of my parents’ house.