‘Let’s go!’ I said. ‘We’re going out. Somewhere we can be free and can let our thoughts fly.’

‘What about the shop?’ asked Robert, behind the cash desk.

‘The shop’s closed today.’

We drove around for a while in our car. It was a warm, sunny day with only the occasional shadow of a cloud moving across the fields. I opened the window and breathed in the scent of summer. In the distance the domed roof of the Paulstadt leisure centre flashed in the sun, and suddenly my sense of expectation was mingled with a longing for people, for the sound of their voices, for laughter and music.

We stopped in the car park, a vast, blindingly bright expanse of concrete with only a few cars dotted about here and there. When I got out of the car and stepped into the sunlight, the thought occurred to me that my life so far had been nothing but a strange misunderstanding, and I felt so happy and free that I would have liked to kick the shoes off my feet and dance on the hot concrete.

Robert didn’t want to come. He said he’d rather stay in the car and wait for me. I felt a surge of anger, but then I saw those small, nervous hands in his lap and the anger subsided again. I took his face in my hands and kissed him on the forehead. I hadn’t done anything like that for a long time. His skin was damp and warm, and I kissed him as one kisses a child, in farewell, or to comfort.

When I entered the building I was surprised by the cool air, which was a surreal contrast to the heat of the car park. Everything was spacious and bright. The walls and marble floors sparkled, and columns of light beamed down through the high glass roof. A young sales assistant was standing behind a display window, looking out in my direction. She just looked at me, and I walked on, past the restaurant with the palm trees in big tubs, the ice-­cream parlour with the little porcelain figures on all the tables, the fountain lit up all the colours of the rainbow, the bowling alley and the betting shop, the amusement arcade full of ringing, beeping, humming slot machines.