27

There was an enormous queue outside Ziegler Bank.

The previous night, when she’d gone to bed in the room she rented not far from the studio, Alys had decided that she wasn’t going to see Paul. She repeated this to herself as she got ready, as she tried on her collection of hats—which consisted of only two—and as she took a trolley she never usually took. She was completely surprised to find herself by the queue for the bank.

As she approached she noticed that there were in fact two queues. One led to the bank, the other to the entrance next door. People were coming out of the second door with smiles on their faces, carrying bags bulging with sausages, bread, and enormous stalks of celery.

Paul was in the place next door with another man who was weighing up vegetables and hams and attending to his customers. When he saw Alys, Paul pushed his way through the crowd of people waiting to get into the store.

“The tobacconist’s shop next to us had to close when the business went under. We’ve reopened it and made it into another grocer’s shop for Herr Ziegler. He’s a happy man.”

“The people are happy, too, from what I can see.”

“We sell merchandise at cost, and we sell on credit to all the bank’s customers. We’re eating up every last pfennig of our profits, but the workers and pensioners—everyone who can’t keep up with the ridiculous pace of inflation—they are all very grateful to us. Today the dollar’s at over three million marks.”

“You’re losing a fortune.”

Paul shrugged.

“We’ll be giving out soup to those who need it in the evenings, starting next week. It won’t be like the Jesuits, because we’ll only have enough for five hundred portions, but we’ve already got a group of volunteers.”

Alys was looking at him, her eyes narrowed.

“You’re doing all this for me?”

“I’m doing it because I can. Because it’s the right thing to do. Because I was struck by the photo of the woman in the park. Because this city’s going to hell. And yes, because I behaved like an idiot and I want you to forgive me.”

“I’ve already forgiven you,” she replied, walking away.

“Then why are you going?” he asked, throwing his arms wide in disbelief.

“Because I’m still angry with you!”

Paul was just about to run after her, but Alys turned and smiled at him.

“But you can come and pick me up tomorrow night and see if it’s passed.”