In April 1936 he moved to Tossa de Mar, a small fishing village on the Costa Brava in Spain, but shortly thereafter the Spanish Civil War broke out, and in August he decided to return to Paris, via Marseille.

Here, while making a telephone call from a café to Diana Croft, a friend in London whom he had met in Tossa de Mar, his wallet, containing most of his money and his passport, was stolen from his jacket left unattended at his table.

[2] They set up home on Downshire Hill, in London's Hampstead and it became a favourite cultural and artistic meeting place for the large group of refugees and exiles who, like Uhlman, had been forced to flee their homeland.

He founded the Free German League of Culture, whose members included Oskar Kokoschka and Stefan Zweig, though he parted company with it when he felt it coming under communist domination.

Nine months after the outbreak of the Second World War, Uhlman, with thousands of other enemy aliens, was, in June 1940, interned by the British Government, in Hutchinson Camp on the Isle of Man.

When I first read Fred Uhlman's Reunion' some years ago, I wrote to the author (whom I only knew by reputation as a painter) and told him I considered it a minor masterpiece.

It was meant to refer to the small size of the book, and to the impression that although its theme was the ugliest tragedy in man's history, it was written in a nostalgic minor key.