And immediately wished he’d remained silent. It was a special occasion for him, the first outing, perhaps even a date, with a girl who’d previously been confined to his fantasies. But was it special for her? And he decided as he watched her that it was. This trip to the market had been an inspired choice.

They wandered slowly through the fish section to the meat department. Galina would stand in front of a particular display for a long time, sometimes with a frown as if she could not quite believe what she was seeing, but mostly with a delighted smile; on a couple of occasions she actually laughed aloud.

There was something extravagant about her, he decided, a largeness of personality, an inexhaustible enthusiasm. Galina Kogan was … oceanic. And again he wondered whether it was connected to her Russianness, or whether it was unique to her. (And could she be separated from her Russianness anyway? Not everyone was as schizoid as he was.) Whatever the reason, her joy was more abundant, her curiosity more intense, her vision more sharp, her delight more fulsome. Even when they left the market, she was still thrilling to the wonders of the place. To be so at ease in the world, he was thinking, even when the world was not your own, was something he had rarely known.

He hefted the shopping bags over his shoulder, and they set off towards the tram stop. With no vehicle in sight, he was about to draw on his list of prepared questions when his attention was caught by a drunk reeling on the opposite pavement, shouting to the skies and gesticulating wildly. Other pedestrians were giving him a wide berth, some even crossed the road to avoid him. He was an unusual drunk, it seemed to Andrew, dressed as he was in surprisingly neat and respectable clothes. Nonetheless, he was relieved that the man was on the opposite side of the road; drunks made him nervous, their being so out of control. He feared for them, feared for himself as well.