Her marriage and her children were no one’s business.

But these men were tough. They had lots of methods. One of them had reached into his briefcase and started reading a file. She would have loved to know what file it was: surely the police wouldn’t keep a file like that on her, because she had by now noticed that these civilians had the air of policemen about them.

Then they went back to asking questions. The files must have contained something about Enno, because now she was asked about his illnesses, his shirking, his passion for horses, and his women. It all began harmlessly enough, as before, and then suddenly she saw the danger, and shut her mouth and refused to answer. No, that, too, was something private. That didn’t concern anyone. Her dealings with her husband were her affair. Incidentally, she lived alone.

And with that she was trapped again. How long had she been living alone? When was the last time she had seen him? Did her desire to leave the Party have anything to do with him?

She had merely shaken her head. But she shuddered to think that they would probably now question Enno and they would squeeze everything out of that weakling within half an hour. Then she, who had previously kept her shame to herself, would stand exposed for all to see.

“Private! All private!”

Lost in thought, staring at the flickering gas flame, she suddenly jumped. She had made a serious mistake. She should have given Enno money to tide him over for a couple of weeks and told him to go and hide at one of his girlfriends’ places.

She rings Frau Gesch’s bell. “Listen, Frau Gesch, I’ve had another think, I’d like at least to talk to my husband briefly.”

Now that the other woman is doing what she asked of her, Frau Gesch gets upset. “You should have thought about that earlier. Your husband’s been gone for twenty minutes at least. You’re too late!”

“Where has he gone, Frau Gesch?”

“How should I know? You’re the one who threw him out. I expect to one of his women!”

“And you don’t know which one? Please, if you know, Frau Gesch, tell me! It could be very important…”

“You have changed your tune!” Reluctantly, Frau Gesch adds, “He said something about some woman called Tutti…”

“Tutti?” she says. “That must be short for Trudel or Gertrude…

You wouldn’t know her surname, would you, Frau Gesch?”

“He didn’t know it himself! He didn’t even know where she lived, he just thought he could manage to find her. But in the state the man’s in…”

“Maybe he will come back,” says Frau Kluge reflectively. “If he does, send him to me. Anyway, thank you for your help, Frau Gesch, and good evening!”

Frau Gesch doesn’t reply, just slams the door back in her face. She hasn’t forgotten how she was treated earlier. She’s not at all sure she would send the man round, in the event that he does show up again. A woman shouldn’t hem and haw, because it can easily become too late.

Frau Kluge returns to her kitchen. It’s a strange thing: even though the conversation with Frau Gesch didn’t achieve anything, she feels relieved. Things will take their course. She’s done what she could to stay clean.