That evening Egon came home at midnight. He threw his dirty overalls in the middle of the living room and called for Helga, who was warming up the food.

‘I’m fed up to here with it,’ he said slowly, swaying on his legs like a sailor. She appeared in the kitchen door, staring at him with her sorrowful, wondering eyes.

‘What are you fed up with?’ she asked anxiously.

‘Everything,’ he said, his alcohol breath reeking in her face. ‘What do you think I am, an idiot?’

She didn’t answer, but pulled back from him a step. Her mind was slow, never fully able to follow a situation, especially a surprising one. Her mind quickened only with memories.

‘The food is burning,’ she said hesitantly.

He laughed callously.

‘I don’t want any food,’ he drawled. ‘I ate already.’

‘Where did you eat?’ she asked quietly, starting to untie her apron. Her hands trembled slightly. He could see that she was hurt or afraid, and he laughed loudly again.

‘With a good-looking girl, if you absolutely must know,’ he shouted triumphantly. Then he belched in her face, walked into the bedroom and lay down on the bed, fully dressed.

Helga followed him. She looked at him, confused, numb to any clear thought or feeling, as she fumbled for a safe, childlike footing. She whispered, ‘I’m going to tell my mother.’ But he was already asleep.

Actually, she didn’t feel any more hurt by the thought that he had very likely cheated on her than she knew a person ought to feel. A husband shouldn’t drink, but, if he cheats, that is much worse. Instead of having her usual fantasies, she imagined him with another woman, but it really didn’t make much difference. It was only her outer life that he was threatening. It didn’t change who she was; her body was the same as before, only with the small difference that it had lessened in value to other men. The words ‘other men’ hadn’t occurred to her since she’d got married. Now, as she slowly undressed, she thought only about that, because she knew that her mother would. Her mother would rationalize that if this husband neglected his obligations to her daughter, then she would have to turn to other men with brown eyes for the pursuit of her daily bread – this idea, that the men absolutely had to have brown eyes, in fact came from her mother. A remark that had stuck: Dark men are goodness itself.