I was passing through the west end today and popped in to Hyde Park to see if there was anything going on at the Holocaust Memorial. I got chatting to this lady, whose father had escaped from Germany to Belgium. But his sisters went to Holland, from where they were never heard of again. She obliged me by placing a stone on the boulder so I could snap her. She didn’t want her face to be shown. Apparently the stones are a token of permanence.