The club began to empty, and Walli and Karolin headed for the door. Walli felt dejected. As they were leaving, Danni Hausmann stopped them. He was in his early twenties, and dressed in modern casual clothes, a black roll-neck sweater and jeans. “Could you two do half an hour next Monday?” he said.

Walli was too surprised to reply, but Karolin quickly said: “Sure!”

“But the Joan Baez imitator won,” said Walli, then he thought: Why am I arguing?

Danni said: “You two seem to have the range to keep an audience happy for more than one or two numbers. Have you got enough songs for a set?”

Once again Walli hesitated, and again Karolin jumped in. “We will by Monday,” she said.

Walli remembered that his father planned to imprison him in the house for a month of evenings, but he decided not to mention that.

“Thanks,” said Danni. “You get the early slot, eight thirty. Be here by seven thirty.”

They were elated as they walked out into the lamplit street. Walli had no idea what he would do about his father, but he felt optimistic that everything would work out.

It turned out that Karolin, too, lived in East Berlin. They caught a bus and began to talk about which numbers they would do next week. There were lots of folk songs they both knew.

They got off the bus and headed into the park. Karolin frowned and said: “The guy behind.”

Walli looked back. There was a man in a cap thirty or forty yards behind them, smoking as he walked. “What about him?”

“Wasn’t he in the Minnesänger?”

The man did not meet Walli’s eye, even though Walli stared at him. “I don’t think so,” said Walli. “Do you like the Everly Brothers?”

“Yes!”

As they walked, Walli started to play “All I Have to Do Is Dream,” strumming the guitar that hung around his neck on its string. Karolin joined in eagerly. They sang together as they crossed the park. He played the Chuck Berry hit “Back in the USA.”

They were belting out the refrain, “I’m so glad I’m living in the USA,” when Karolin halted suddenly and said: “Hush!” Walli realized they had reached the border, and saw three Vopos under a streetlight glaring at them malevolently.

He shut up immediately, and hoped they had stopped soon enough.

One of the cops was a sergeant, and he looked past Walli. Walli glanced back and saw the man in the cap give a curt nod. The sergeant took a step toward Walli and Karolin and said: “Papers.” The man in the cap spoke into a walkie-talkie.

Walli frowned. It seemed Karolin had been right, and they had been followed.

It occurred to him that Hans might be behind this.

Could he possibly be so petty and vengeful?

Yes, he could.

The sergeant looked at Walli’s identity card and said: “You’re only fifteen. You shouldn’t be out this late.”

Walli bit his tongue. There was no point in arguing with them.