We get to the platform just as the minute hand of the clock clicks to the departure time. Unfortunately, for once, the Republic’s trains seem to be as prompt as they reputedly are in the west. We see my train pulling away.

‘Oh God!’ I cry. ‘What am I going to do now?’

Arnie’s head scans round. ‘Where’s the taxi rank? I don’t mind paying for a taxi.’

‘Ha! Finding a taxi in Dresden at any time is virtually impossible, but at this time of night . . .’

There’s a moment’s silence. I realise this is a critical point – but I have to let him suggest it, not me.

‘Look, come to mine,’ he says, finally. I can understand there’s a bit of reluctance. But without his wife here with him, it must be difficult. ‘I can sleep on the sofa – you can have the bedroom. And then you can get the early train to Königstein and work in the morning.’

I punch him lightly on the arm. ‘Duh! It’s Saturday tomorrow, and I’m not on shift, so I don’t have to rush back. What about you? Will you be at the university tomorrow?’

There’s a slightly frightened look in his eyes, as though I’ve trapped him. I suppose I have, in a way. But he’s not to know I threw the coins on the floor deliberately, just to make sure I couldn’t catch the train.

‘No,’ he says, finally. ‘I haven’t got any teaching to do, not yet anyway.’

‘Great,’ I say, linking arms, although he’s slightly uncomfortable about it. ‘I can treat you to breakfast, then.’

*

The apartment the university has provided is in one of the long blocks in Leningrader Straße. Much sought after because they’re so near the centre, and it’s only a few minutes’ walk from the station. When we get there, I hope he’s going to suggest coffee or a nightcap before we turn in, but instead he seems determined to go to bed – alone. I hide my disappointment, and when he tries to take the sofa, and begins tugging out some blankets and a pillow, I yank them off him.

‘Don’t be silly,’ I say. ‘It was my fault I missed the train. I’m going to take the sofa. You go to your own bed. It’s kind enough of you to allow me to stay, you being a married man and all that.’

He’s on the point of insisting, but I won’t have any of it, and finally he gives up. He gives me a peck goodnight on the cheek. I try to turn my lips towards him like last time, but he’s wised up to that trick now and moves away before I can.

‘Good night, Lotti. I enjoyed tonight.’

‘I did, too, Arnold. Good night.’

*