‘You see,’ I said to her, ‘I want to go off exploring. I don’t want to end my days here, eating canned food only for it to come out again later.’

She looked up. You could see she was trying very hard to understand what I was talking about. Then, to help her, I said:

‘I’m going off exploring.’

‘But there’s nothing,’ she said, surprised. ‘Only the bunkers.’ Thinking was a great effort for her.

‘There aren’t even any seasons.’

‘We don’t know. We gave up too soon. We only searched for two years, didn’t we?’

‘That was because of the old women. We had to keep stopping so they could die in peace. And sometimes they took such a long time. They kept feeling better and we thought they’d recover.’

‘I want to leave. I’m not old.’

‘Wait,’ she said. ‘Wait. I shan’t be long.’

She understood me. We both knew that she couldn’t cope on her own, that she wouldn’t have the strength to go and get food from the bunkers or gather enough wood for her fire, and that I couldn’t abandon her.

The soup was hot. We ate in silence, then I went to wash up in the river. When I returned, she was sitting on the bench again, waiting for me. She’d sit then until she felt sleepy and then would go and lie down on her mattress to sleep. While asleep, she’d be waiting to wake up.

I didn’t want her to die, but how could I have wanted her to live? Several times during the afternoon, I felt a tremor of impatience. I was overjoyed at the idea that I was going to be free. To calm my excitement, I began working out what I’d need. I’d take one of the big bags and pack enough provisions for two weeks, two blankets—because I’d grown used to sleeping on a mattress and I was afraid I’d find the ground too hard. Later, when I’d adjusted, one blanket would be enough and my load would be lighter. I’d need lots of matches, a small shovel and boots. I must remember to take some soap. My dress was in complete tatters, but I’d be bound to find some fabric and thread, because I’d regularly come across bunkers with fresh supplies. I’d have to make sure I found the right size boots if I wanted to walk a long way. In the past, I’d had the unpleasant experience of blisters, and for years, I’d been living in sandals. We’d never found any socks and the skin of my feet had become soft, but I knew it would soon harden.