‘Shh,’ she said, putting her finger to her lips. He came back in.

‘Look,’ said my uncle, pointing to a couple of dark garments that he was carrying over his arm. ‘This is a nice suit. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with it.’

‘Is it yours?’ I asked.

‘I’ve been saving it all these years,’ he said. ‘It was hanging in the wardrobe with mothballs.’ There was a note of triumph in his voice when he whispered to me, ‘For your father!’

Carefully he hung the suit over a chair and continued, ‘I’ve also got a pair of shoes in the wardrobe. As good as new. Would you like to see them?’

‘Later perhaps,’ I said. But he forgot about it, for when I got up to leave shortly afterwards, he quickly threw on his coat.

‘I’ll go with you,’ he said, checking his watch. ‘The tram is due to arrive any minute.’

Instead the tram was just about to leave. I said goodbye hurriedly and jumped in. From the rear platform I waved to him as the tram pulled away. But he didn’t wave back. He was looking at the tram coming from the opposite direction, which I realised was the one he’d meant. Before we rounded the bend, I saw him, small and stooped, peering at the passengers getting off the tram. Later on, I went to see him several times without giving him any advance notice and I always found him waiting at the tram stop. With every visit he looked older and sicker and showed me the suit he’d been saving in his wardrobe.

One day I received word from my aunt that my uncle had died. I went back to Zeist and, in the tram, I thought how strange it would be not to see my uncle at the stop. I automatically looked for him when I got out.

In the half-darkened room my aunt was sitting at the table, working on a crossword puzzle with a finely sharpened pencil in her hand. I sat down in the chair by the window and pushed the curtain back a bit. I could see part of the tram shelter at the end of the street.

‘He really liked to sit there,’ said my aunt. ‘He used to watch for the tram.’

‘You can see it coming from here,’ I said.

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘he used to say that too. I’ve actually never seen it clearly.’ She came over to stand by me and bent down. ‘Barely,’ she said, ‘you can barely see it.’

But that wasn’t true. From my uncle’s chair the stop was clearly visible. At last I understood why my uncle had told me not to discuss it with my aunt. Just before I left, she came in carrying the suit.

‘Here,’ she said. ‘Your uncle told me to give it to you.’

‘It’s of no use to me,’ I said. ‘Please give it to someone who can put it to good use.’ As I was leaving the room, my aunt bent back over her crossword puzzle. I slowly made my way to the tram stop. I had already noticed that there was no tram waiting, but meanwhile one had arrived from the opposite direction.