But it was so hard to stay on his wavelength for an extended period. He pulled a book down from the shelf and read aloud to her – one of his study books, replete with red underlining – while she stood over a pan of scrambled eggs. She could detect in his voice when she should smile or nod understandingly. She felt like an idiot. The words didn’t really reach her; she just listened for the excitement and intensity in his voice, and she thought about a thousand other things at the same time: How was she going to seat nine people at the dining table? They were short two glasses, and one was chipped, but she could use that one. With some goodwill, three people could sit on the divan.

Kai approached the boy again – something about drawings from the book he wanted to try. An ugly face and a nice face. ‘Which one of these two faces that you see here is ugly, and which one is nice?’ She awaited the result anxiously. Kai’s spindly, stooping figure appeared in the kitchen doorway; his forehead was wrinkled. ‘I don’t understand,’ he said. ‘A two-year-old child should be able to handle that, and Bent is so gifted! Maybe there is some defect in that test.’

But soon he forgot all about it and bounded down the steps to get a head of celery. You couldn’t offer people cheese without celery stalks!

Even before the guests arrived, she was unable to hide her exhaustion. Her hair was limp from the steam in the kitchen; her only decent dress was tight around the middle. The energetic, perfectly made-up young women (women in that circle never studied so hard that it detracted from their looks) she let in made her feel ugly and awkward. When they had all settled in, they sat for an hour or so, smoking and chatting, and each time Lulu left the room, Kai shouted, ‘Where are you going now? Relax. Stay here with us.’ ‘He’s like a chicken without a head when you aren’t in the room,’ teased one of the women, while she looked at Kai with steady, beaming eyes. He was like another person. A white shirt ironed at the last second, and a rare humorous glint in his eye that she could only recall from when they were engaged. Something he never lavished on her alone. Why not? He loved her; he was dependent on her, but he also loved the endearment of others. He was like a vain child – a difficult child.