The café has rows of square tables covered with bright red linen and cheerful prints on the walls. A counter stretches across one end with delicious displays of cakes and pastries. There are a couple of empty tables and we choose the one near the window.

I order kartoffelsuppe and Walter the goulash.

‘So, Fräulein,’ he says in a low voice when the waiter has gone. ‘Are you looking forward to the rest of our day?’

He leans across the table, smiling into my eyes. I bury my fears, wondering what it is he has in mind. Thoughts begin to bubble. His coat spread beneath a tree and us lying on it, kissing. Window-shopping, arm in arm, laughing and joking together. A visit to a museum, perhaps, or even to the Fair. The day stretches ahead with tantalising possibilities.

‘Where do you want to take me?’ I smile back at him.

‘I’ve arranged to give you something. You are going to love it.’ And he rubs his hands together with delight.

The waiter returns to the table with our drinks, setting down two glasses of chilled apple juice. The background chatter from the other tables rises and falls around us. Nobody looks or stares. Walter watches me over the rim of his glass.

‘Tell me! What are you going to give me?’

‘You have to wait. I want it to be a surprise,’ he says and winks.

The waiter returns with my steaming bowl of potato soup and Walter’s goulash and potato pancakes. The soup is deliciously salty; tangy, with chunks of bacon and sausage. We eat in silence.

I place my spoon in the empty bowl and glance around at the other customers while Walter finishes his meal. A noisy family; a couple smiling into each other’s eyes; two ladies gossiping; the next table along by the window, a mother and daughter perhaps… I catch my breath. My eyes float back to the two ladies. One of them is vaguely familiar. Do I know her? Is she a friend of Mutti’s? One of her charity ladies, I think. Could she have seen me?

‘Shall we go? Let’s get the bill,’ I urge, passing a handful of coins to Walter.

‘Thank you.’ He wears a pained expression, shame, perhaps, as he slides the money across the table.

‘Hurry,’ I urge.

‘Are you okay?’ he looks at me with concern and signals to a waiter.

‘Couldn’t be better. I just want to enjoy the rest of the day.’ I force myself to smile.

The ladies are having a disagreement about something. They shake their heads and gesticulate. Fortunately, this keeps them from observing their neighbours.

Walter counts out the cash for the waiter and I follow him out of the café. Once we are back in the crowded, narrow cobbled streets of the old town, I can breathe again. How stupid, how utterly reckless we’ve been. I long to be in the fields and woods where there is no chance of being seen. We head towards the outer ring road, where the old city walls would once have stood. There’s a chill to the air, but the sun is out, bathing the city in a rich amber-gold that only autumn brings.