‘What?’ he said.

‘I’m just going to.’

‘Leave it,’ he said, but it was too late. I slammed my forehead down on the damp wooden counter. I felt no pain, but when I looked up again I saw the blood on my face in the mirror.

‘It’s fine,’ I said.

The following year, things changed. It was a scorching hot summer. It was only when the sun went down that you could breathe and people would venture out into the open again. There was an event on the outskirts of town. The car showroom was celebrating its fifteenth anniversary, and Kobielski had invited a few customers to a party, along with current and former employees. Everyone was standing under the canopy roof of the brightly lit sales hall, holding paper cups and plates. It was a Friday; most of them had just been paid, and their faces shone with eager anticipation of the evening.

I was standing with my back to the shop window, leaning against it and looking out at the forecourt, where the chains of coloured light bulbs strung from the roof to the main entrance were reflected in puddles of oil, when suddenly she was standing there beside me. ‘Good evening,’ she said. ‘I’m Louise.’

I thought that name was far too posh for a small-­town girl, and said so. She laughed and asked what was so interesting out on the forecourt. Nothing, I said, just light bulbs. Still, she said, light bulbs were better than nothing. True, I said, and they’re nice and colourful. We laughed, had a few glasses of wine, and it all felt good, as if it had never been any other way. At one point she raised her hand and pushed a lock of hair behind my ear. She only did it in passing, but when I felt her fingers on my temple I jumped, and I realized how long it had been since anyone had touched me.

Around midnight, Kobielski climbed onto the load bed of a 504 pickup and made a speech. He’d had a few too many, and very little of what he said made sense, but he was so moved by his own words that they brought tears to his eyes. After that he let off a few fireworks, and as the rockets soared into the sky, Louise and I put our arms around each other, and it was as if the puddles of oil were exploding. As if the forecourt and everything around it were bursting into colourful flames.

Later, alone in my basement, I could still feel her fingers on my temple. I thought of her, and it was so lovely, and at the same time I could have smashed in the walls around me for sheer loneliness.

We saw each other again. We walked through the streets, sat in Lehmkuhl’s café or kissed under the chestnuts in the park, and after a few weeks she took me back to the little apartment where she lived with her grandmother. I think I went around with a grin on my face all day. I was spending time with a girl I might never be without again, and it felt good.