‘I’m on three square meals a day.’

‘And I’m embroidering chapels.’

‘Exactly.’

Irmi looked about to say something: but then decided not to.

‘Irmi?’

‘I shouldn’t,’ she said, biting her lip, watching Charlotte disappear into the Prellerhaus. ‘I feel like I’m reporting on her. You know I can see her rooms from mine?’

‘Yes?’

‘She’s been breaking the curfew. Heading off somewhere: wearing a hat, holding a bag. Where’s she going?’

‘No idea. You think it’s the same place she went on Sunday night too?’

‘Did you see her as well?’ Irmi asked.

‘I overheard you telling Kaspar. Didn’t you follow her?’ I had meant it to sound off-hand, but the words came out seriously.

‘I’m not spying on her, Paul.’

‘I didn’t say you were.’

Jenö and Kaspar left for the Prellerhaus, and Walter finished the last of his porridge.

Irmi lowered her voice: ‘I didn’t want to break the curfew. She might break her neck, but I’m not going out for the sake of Jenö Fiedler and Walter König. Will you ask her?’

‘What?’

‘Where she’s going. But make it look as if it wasn’t me who told you, will you?’

‘How should I do that?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said, ‘I’m sure you’ll think of something.’

‘Paul,’ said Walter, interrupting us, his eyes shifting from me to Irmi. ‘Any chance I might do a shift at the studio soon?’

‘Is everything okay?’

Irmi was packing her things, readying to go.

His voice was all breeze: ‘Just a few extra expenses. Because of the Sommer affair.’

‘You won’t be able to paint without your glasses, will you?’

Walter looked caught out. Irmi, too, paused. I’d been storing this gem since the weekend.

‘It’s only distance I can’t see. I’ll be fine.’

I told him to meet me outside the statue of the soldier at eleven thirty tomorrow night.

‘What about the curfew?’ asked Irmi.

‘No one will catch us at that time.’

‘Be careful,’ she said. ‘Won’t you? We don’t want more trouble.’

Walter got to the cafeteria door when he turned back. ‘Aren’t you coming?’

‘No,’ I said, ‘I have a little job to do, first.’