Something about the way Walter’s lips touched Oskar’s so sensually – soon I saw the dart of tongue, the meeting of bristle and moustache, and Oskar moved himself to the mattress – made me touch my own mouth. I felt the familiar stirring to touch someone and to have them touch me: just as I had felt outside the Metropol. The men kissed more urgently, and I wondered what it would feel like to have another man against you. Then Oskar looked over, wildly, invitingly, and I swivelled around, concentrating my gaze on the snow below.

And then I had the distinct feeling, as one does, that I was not the only one doing the watching out here. A scan of the balconies below revealed no one, but then I found Charlotte on Jenö’s balcony above. She waved and went inside. All alone on the balcony, she had looked sad. To my surprise I thought: I hope they don’t break up. I hope they are all right.

Charlotte showed up at my room later. I’d been reading, trying to forget the image of the men together, and what they were now doing. I had excused myself to their smiles, which weren’t as sheepish as you might think.

‘Where’s Walter?’ she asked.

‘Entertaining a young man in his room.’

‘I thought you said he had a boyfriend. Your old boss?’

‘Don’t ask.’

Charlotte fell like a dead man onto the bed. Maybe from the coke before, I felt good. I put my hand on her neck, trying to find her pulse, thinking how Walter had done that to Oskar earlier. Though my desire for her was all but dormant, the fact of her body – here, like this – was a maddening idea. But Charlotte pulled away, and so I did too. She said something to herself, which I didn’t catch. Outside, I heard rain.

‘Do you think Walter’s happy?’ she asked.

‘I think he wants to be, and that’s what’s made him so unhappy, in the past.’

‘After Rügen, I tried to apologise. There was no reason for Walter to accept, I suppose.’

‘Only tonight he said he’s forgiven you entirely,’ I said, though I had no idea why I was making this up. Our lives were so complicated it was never a good idea to introduce more complexity. ‘He’s even invented a new alphabet. It’s called the Lotti-line. It’s true!’ I said, when her face changed to one of disbelief. ‘He’s practically tattooed it on his arm. It’s rather Expressionistic. Barely decipherable. But I think it’s a compliment. Some kind of gesture of forgiveness.’ I changed tack. ‘Up on the balcony, you looked sad. Is everything all right?’

She looked toward the wall.

‘Sorry. I don’t mean to pry. Let’s not talk about it.’

‘Jenö doesn’t like other people having fun.’

‘Jenö was in tonight?’