The book was Ernst Jünger’s Storm of Steel.

“Who’s that?”

She looked at his uniform, smiled, and returned to her book. He didn’t know what to do next. The seat next to her was free.

“May I sit down?”

“It’s public transport. Sit wherever you like.”

“This suits me just fine.”

He sat down and held out his hand.

“Andrei.”

“Maria. You know strangers don’t just shake hands on public transport, right?”

“They do when there’s a war going on.”

She looked up.

“Are we at war?”

She resumed reading, very slightly tilting the book in his direction so he could read too. In the time it took him to reach the end of one passage, she turned over a page. Then he invited her to get off at the next stop for a coffee. She looked out the window, put the book in her bag, and stood up.

“I’d have said no to ice cream, but I can’t refuse a coffee. Come on, there’s a cafe nearby that serves a world-beating Java. Well, then, get up, I’m not going to clamber over you.”

Andrei saw that she barely came up to his shoulder. The doors swung open and they got off. Andrei had a limp. The coffee shop turned out to be a spacious basement, a shop selling coffee grinders and coffee machines arrayed along shelves and in display cabinets. There were two small tables tucked away in a corner. When they entered, it felt to Maria like Andrei’s hulking frame would barely fit. It felt cosy. After ordering coffee, Maria paced the room, patting the coffee machines, as if greeting old friends, and lingered in front of a huge chrome-plated model in the middle. She hugged it.

“Elektra Belle Epoque Chrome. Two spouts, five presets, a piston pump, a rotary control knob-operated steamer, under-shelf heating for cups. Perfect design. My dream. And it costs as much as a car.”

She caught Andrei’s look and laughed.

“It looks like a robot.”

“A perfect lover. You probably think I’m a complete idiot.”

“I don’t think anything,” he said, embarrassed.

“Well, you think what you like. You don’t know me yet. In any case, that’s the way out if you want to run away. Just pay for the coffee first.”

“No, I’m not running away. I’m just surprised anybody would need an industrial coffee machine for their home. What makes you think I want to run?”

“Everybody runs.”

“Do you?”

“That’s up to you I guess.”

As the coffee was brought out to them, they took their seats at the table. Andrei sipped, winced at the bitter taste, and then composed himself and smiled. She chuckled again. He seemed a likeable sort. He had close-cropped hair, a wide forehead, a firm chin, deep-set green eyes, and a beautiful row of teeth. He smiled rarely, tense and a little bewildered.

He crumpled his napkin.

“Great coffee.”

“Told you so. Now, tell me something about yourself.”

“About the war?”

“No, about yourself.”