When Walter asked me whether the Steiner painting told a truth, I had lied, to seem worldly and impervious to what I knew were old-fashioned values. Of course, truth meant something to me, even in the butchered form we gave it in the Steiner Studio. After all, that had been the whole point of the fast: that with enough work, the world’s transparency would eventually reveal itself.

14

Weimar

In the cool of the morning Walter and I walked the cemetery path in silence, our bikes held by their necks. We weren’t meant to go in there after sunset, and the dark as well as the curfew intensified our sense of trespass. Under the trees were bright mushrooms and spring flowers. Everywhere there were dead Walters on the gravestones: Walter Schwarz, Walter Richter, Walter Beck. I only hoped Walter König didn’t notice them as well.

We stopped by a ruin, moss creeping its walls. Walter ditched his bike outside, Steiner’s cash still inside the basket. It was lighter inside, as if the stone threw off the dark. He leant against the wall; and I saw that smile again, like a man three leagues in love. ‘Thanks for sharing your work with me,’ he said. ‘I know there’s not much around.’

‘It’s nothing. Mr Steiner liked you.’

‘You can tell that already?’

‘I’m sure you’ll be invited back. If that’s what you want.’

‘I think it would take care of expenses, yes.’ He slid down the wall. ‘You know I’m in love with Jenö?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh, but Paul! Something magical has happened!’

‘What’s that?’

‘I think he’s falling in love with me too.’

‘Really?’ I thought of seeing Jenö in Charlotte’s room, with that dreamy gaze as he looked at the parkland. Yes, it clicked into place: I’d been looking at a man in love. ‘Jenö didn’t faint, did he?’

Walter shook his head. ‘He told me not to tell anyone. He told me that I must keep absolutely quiet.’ He waited for something inside him to give him a cue, then he said, ‘Mr Sommer walked in on us. Kissing.’

‘Ah. I see. No faint?’

‘No: no faint.’

That’s why his specs were off: he had taken them off to kiss Jenö. They hadn’t been swatted away during a fight.

‘Do you think this is it? Do you think he has feelings for me?’

‘I don’t know. Have you asked him?’

‘I can’t,’ he said, choked. ‘I can’t.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me the truth?’

‘Jenö made me promise. Oh God, you won’t tell him, will you? It would ruin everything.’

‘I won’t. Don’t worry. I promise.’