"They took me to the jail in Malaga." Salva was sitting in Rosalba's back kitchen, wincing slightly as she removed the dressings. "It was unspeakable. Every so often they took people out and shot them. You never knew when it would be your turn. I was so glad when they took me to work in the labour camp."

Rosalba raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.

"It was near Madrid. You wouldn't believe it." Salva gave a dry chuckle with no humour in it whatsoever. "We were ...