Though I was meant to close my eyes during the meditation, Kaspar and I kept on locking our sights on each other, and it was hard not to laugh. Kaspar couldn’t really stay still: there was always a restless leg, or a finger twirling his curls. Though he liked to quote Nietzsche and wear all black, he was hardly a nihilist; instead he was a sensuous man, full of appetite, and I knew during the past few days he’d taken secret meals to tide him over until the evenings. Fair enough. He was only doing it to go along with the group – and, had I not been Charlotte’s devotee, I’m sure I would have cheated too.

When we were finished Jenö opened a window to let some air in. ‘Look,’ he said to Charlotte. ‘You can see your room from here.’

She wandered over. ‘Ah, so you can! You’ll soon know all my secrets, Irmi. I’ll have to keep the shutters closed.’

Walter lay back on the divan: from there he had the best view of Jenö. That pose, one knee hitched, his head in his hand, invited you to think of him naked, and done in oils. ‘For how long are we to eat four slices of black bread a day?’

‘Master Itten said two weeks would be good; three, ideal.’

‘It’s useless!’ said Kaspar. ‘By two o’clock I’m out of my wits.’

‘Tell that to the men at the dole office,’ said Walter.

‘Oh, don’t get righteous.’

These two had a funny sort of relationship; they often chipped away at each other, but there was fondness there too. The thing about Kaspar was that he was open to everyone. Me, Walter, Jenö: we were warier men.

‘Just wait,’ said Irmi, who’d told me she had found the fast more exciting than she’d predicted. ‘The world has changed colour a little. Things are clarifying.’

‘Are your desires taking on a new shape, Irmi Schüpfer?’

Irmi looked at me and then blushed. ‘No.’

Jenö sat down by Walter. He began to sketch in his notebook.

‘It says here,’ Kaspar read from a dating manual, ‘that I should leave a week in between dates.’ Kaspar was always taking women out; he always had someone on the go. He could be moody, but he was also very charming when he wanted to be, and it was a combination deemed irresistible by many in the Weaving Workshop. ‘I only ever leave a few days.’

Charlotte flipped the book. ‘Oh, tie them up like dogs and they’ll still let you take them out for ice cream.’

Walter’s head was resting on the top of the sofa; how nicely it could have dropped, pat, onto Jenö’s shoulder. He watched with interest the development of Jenö’s drawing.