He patted her distractedly on the hand. Recently he had been studying the fine details of purchasing real estate. No one was going to fool him with a dolled-up money pit. They had seen quite a few of those recently.

‘How much lower do you think she’ll go?’ he asked, leaning forward toward the agent’s thick neck.

‘I would say four to five thousand. Women in her situation are desperate for cash.’

‘She really wants to sell?’

He lit a cigarette and squeezed his eyes shut to avoid the smoke.

The real estate agent gave his resounding laugh again, which ended in a coughing fit.

‘You can bet on it. She doesn’t have two pennies to rub together.’

‘You’re not thinking of cheating her, are you?’ asked the wife with a worried voice.

‘Leave the business to us,’ said her husband, giving her a tender, paternal look. ‘We’re talking about our future.’ Then he added, more softly, ‘And the baby’s.’

The house was located in a small town. They drove past the bar and the church, which were right next to one another, and the two men exchanged the usual jokes in that vein. She looked a bit uneasily from the one to the other. It was as if an unspoken understanding had arisen between them on account of the woman who had to sell her house. And what if we don’t like it? she thought, feeling anxious. What if no one wants to buy it?

‘So here we are.’

The real estate agent took her elbow chivalrously to help her out of the car. Recently she hadn’t been able to tolerate anyone but her husband touching her, not even women. She only left the apartment when absolutely necessary.

‘Ah, how lovely!’ she exclaimed at the sight of the little red house with blue shutters and a proper iron fence around a yard, manicured and cared for by skilled hands.

With a little poke in her side, her husband reminded her about his warning against any show of excitement. She blushed a little. It wasn’t easy for her to hide her feelings.

Halfway down the front walk their little parade was stopped by a boy of eight or nine with a defiant face. He stood there with his legs spread apart like a man, a vertical wrinkle between his eyebrows.

‘Mommy has changed her mind,’ he said in a sinister tone, looking at the real estate agent, who apparently knew him. ‘She’s decided not to sell the house.’

The real estate agent laughed good-naturedly and took out his wallet.

‘Looks to me like you need an ice cream,’ he said. ‘Here you go; now get going.’

The boy flipped the coin up in the air with a studied effortlessness and caught it again. He strode off without a word of thanks.