‘Oh dear,’ she says. ‘I’ve heard that’s a terrible disease. Apparently, it can really cripple you. Make it hard to breathe and walk.’

She studies Gundar Freske with empathetically raised eyebrows, watches the long column of ash break in half and land on his chest. Without a word, she pushes the ashtray over to where he can reach it. Leans back and waits. Freske says nothing.

After a long pause, she leans forward again and pushes the remote towards him, too.

‘There, that might make things easier for you,’ she says with a smile. ‘After we leave, I mean,’ she adds and accidentally on purpose glances over at the armchair.

Notes that Freske notices the glance, watches him struggle with himself. Gives him a helpful nudge.

‘Do you have any help?’ she asks. ‘Like, someone who comes in here and cleans and whatnot, I mean? Maybe someone we could talk to?’

‘I’m fine on my own. And I’m actually perfectly able get in and out of both my bed and that armchair.’

‘But cleaning and doing dishes must be tough. And going to the shops.’

‘I have my food delivered. Besides . . .’

He hesitates. Karen exchanges a quick look with Karl. Knows he’s also wondering how close Freske is to giving up.

‘Yes . . . ?’ she says. ‘What were you going to say?’

‘Besides, I can stand up and walk short distances. Indoors. On days when my back’s feeling better.’

You sly bastard.

‘I see,’ she says. ‘So it’s your back, is it? Well, that can’t be fun. I hope you’re receiving all the care you need. Do you have a good doctor?’

‘What the fuck do you want? Did you just come here to ask about my back problems?’

‘No, if you have nothing else to add, I think we can stop here. At least for now,’ she adds. ‘Oh, wait, one more thing . . .’

She turns to Karl.

‘Would you mind doing it?’ she says.

Without answering, he puts his hand in his jacket pocket. When he pulls out the plastic bag with the two cotton swabs and a plastic tube, Freske’s reaction is instantaneous.

‘You can’t be serious. How the fuck would I even be able . . . ?’

He trails off.

‘It’s just a formality,’ Karen says. ‘If nothing else, it allows us to write you off once and for all.’

‘And if I refuse?’

‘That’s your right, of course.’

Gundar Freske leans back in his wheelchair and glares at her.

‘Then I do. And you can be pretty fucking sure I’ll sue you for harassment if you come back.’

Karen looks at him and smiles.

‘We’ll see,’ she says.

*

‘So, are you on board now?’ she says after they exit the building and start walking towards the car.