“How are you two getting on?” said Gregor, from the doorway. He looked from one to the other, then at Leonie and down at the scattering of objects on the carpet around Ruby’s legs. “Making a mess, baby?” he said, tutting as he scooped up all of the offerings before taking them over to the toy box. “Shall we tidy up?”

“Di-dee up!”

Ruby stood. She needed to get away. “Well, thanks for the coffee.” She picked up her violin. “I should be going.”

“Of course, we mustn’t keep you. You must have to practice for hours to be as good as you are,” said Gregor. “I don’t suppose …”

“What?”

“Well, I don’t suppose you’d come back and play for us again?”

Ruby wasn’t sure if she wanted to or not. “Um …”

“Only if you have time,” he said.

Ruby found herself looking into Constance’s eyes. Then Leonie came toward her and pulled on her trouser leg, using it to stand up. Ruby reached down and offered her a finger to hang on to instead. That black shock of hair and the rosy cheeks.

“I could make time,” she said.

“Ba-ba,” said Leonie, waggling her hand like a balloon on a stick.

“Bye-bye,” replied Ruby, mirroring the action. Leonie laughed.

Gregor walked her down the stairs, out and across to her building, then without Ruby really knowing how it was happening, he was riding in the lift to her door. She fumbled with the keys, turned to say goodbye, but somehow after that he was in her flat, pretending not to notice the state of the place, tactfully stepping through into the tiny kitchen while she bundled up her dirty washing into a corner, straightened the duvet, kicked a couple of used plates further under the bed. There wasn’t much else she could do to improve things after that; the bare bulb in the bed-sitting room made everything seem cheap and ugly. Cheaper and uglier than it was already, anyway—nothing she had was expensive or beautiful except for the violin. She tried turning the light off. It was completely dark. She turned it on again. Ruby wished she had a couple of lamps to soften the atmosphere.

“You really can see right into my place from here, can’t you?” Gregor said from the kitchen.

She went through and stood behind him, inhaled his smell. “Yep. Sort of asking to be watched, aren’t you?”

“I thought I was safe, actually. Until I saw your little head peeping out, and by then it was too late. My cover was blown.”

She wished he would stop mentioning it. So embarrassing. “I’m sorry about that. I really didn’t mean—”

“I’m not sorry,” said Gregor, turning quickly so that they were standing far too close together. “It meant that we met, didn’t it? I don’t meet many people.”

“You don’t?”