She resolved to ask at the reception of the hostel over the road. This was, after all, the best that she could do.

Heidi  Schindler  is  Heidi  Klauss  now.  Forty-one  years  old,  she  lives  in  a  suburb  of Frankfurt with a husband and four children, and is reasonably happy, certainly happier than she expected to be at twenty-three. The paperback copy of  Howards End  is still on the shelf in the spare bedroom, forgotten and unread, with the letter tucked neatly just inside the cover, next to an inscription in small, careful handwriting that reads:

To dear Dexter. A great novel for your great journey. Travel well and return safely with no tattoos. Be good, or as good as you are able. Bloody hell, I’ll miss you.

All my love, your good friend Emma Morley, Clapton, London, April 1990 

CHAPTER FOUR

Opportunities

MONDAY 15 JULY 1991

Camden Town and Primrose Hill

ATTENTION PLEASE! Can I have your attention?   Attention everyone? Stop talking, stop talking,  stop  talking.  Please?  Please?  Thank  you.  Right  I  just  want  to  go  through  today‘s menu if  I may.  First of  all the so　called ―specials‖. We‘ve  got a sweetcorn chowder  and a turkey chimi-changa.‘

Turkey? In July?‘ said Ian Whitehead from the bar, where he was cutting lime wedges to jam into the necks of bottles of beer.

Now it‘s Monday today,‘ continued Scott. Should be nice and quiet, so I want this place spotless. I‘ve checked the rota, and Ian, you‘re on toilets.‘

The other staff scoffed. Why is it always me?‘ moaned Ian.

Because  you do it so  beautifully,‘ said his best friend Emma Morley, and Ian took the opportunity to throw an arm around her hunched shoulders, jokily wielding a knife in a lighthearted downwards stabbing motion.

And when you two have finished, Emma, can you come and see me in my office please?‘ said Scott.

The other staff sniggered insinuatingly, Emma disentangled herself from Ian, and Rashid the  bartender  pressed  play  on  the  greasy  tape  deck  behind  the  bar,  La  Cucaracha‘,  the cockroach, a joke that wasn‘t funny anymore, repeated until the end of time.