There was the familiar smell of sweaty hands on old books, of unwashed men with beards and overcoats, dozing by the radiators beneath the windows. I didn’t see the man with the carrier bags, which surprised me.

And she was there, of course, my wife, Kathryn, behind the counter, on the phone. She didn’t see me come in, so I stood and watched her for a while. I wouldn’t say that I hid behind the shelf, but I was sure that she couldn’t see me where I stood, holding a book on Tractors and Other Farm Vehicles before me. I took a good look at her. She was wearing a green polo neck jumper, I hadn’t noticed that during the afternoon, and her hair, slightly grey in her fringe but otherwise still a good colour, looked odd because one side was tucked into the woollen roll around her neck. I wanted to go and straighten it for her, but I remained standing with the book open in front of me. She leant on the counter and laughed at something one of the borrowers said, and I watched the wave of hair that was tucked into her jumper bend back and forth as she moved.

I reflected that I hadn’t seen her behind the library counter for about fifteen years, and that now I had secret knowledge of her. Now I could watch her and know that she was wearing a slip with a rose pattern in black lace. Now I knew that it was thin and worn at her side, and that one strap was frayed on her shoulder. No one else in the library had that information. Secret information.

As I approached the counter, I found myself smiling. I kept one hand in my pocket, and I ran a finger over the gun of the model Somua tank that I’d taken from Robert’s bedroom.

‘Howard, what are you doing here?’

I kept smiling, feeling my teeth going dry in the hot air of the library.

‘Are you all right?’ asked Kathryn. ‘I was a bit worried about you when I left.’

‘Kathryn,’ I said. ‘I’m going to take that lock off Robert’s door.’

Kathryn glanced around the library. ‘Can we talk about this later on?’

Behind her, one of the librarians had stopped filling in whatever form she was apparently concentrating on.

Kathryn leant over the counter and touched my sleeve. ‘Why don’t we talk about this later?’

I was still smiling. ‘He’s my son and I’m going to remove that lock. I just came to tell you that. There’s nothing to discuss.’

Kathryn let go of my sleeve. ‘If you do that, I’ll replace it.’

‘I won’t have locks on doors in my house.’