She tugged gently at my sleeve: that’s how it began. We were standing at the far end of the square, down by the spot where some little trees grow in a clump.

I have the notion that the scent of their white flowers was in the air, this must have been in late spring, I’m not saying that the setting was to blame, merely that I must have been particularly susceptible that day and that the very presence of the trees may well have been a contributing factor.

I have never seen them bear fruit, but they look like fruit trees, and they have always evoked a peculiar feeling in me, a feeling that I can’t quite describe, but that reminds me of the way I used to feel as a boy about the faded, white-framed childhood photos of my father and mother: I found it hard to imagine them as children, and yet they seemed strangely familiar, rather like caricatures of myself, you might say.

In any event, I leaned towards Lise, so far over her that her face turned upwards in one smooth, fluid movement, as if it were set on a ball.

The square was enormous – it still is, so big that two people standing one at either end would scarcely be able to see each other’s feet. We, however, were standing close together, so close that it was a little bewildering.

I must have cleared my throat, making her wonder whether I might be having some doubts (as of course I was, they were all-consuming), and then she let out a deep sigh – never before or since have I heard a sigh that could so truly be said to come all the way from her toes – and let go of my sleeve, and all my courage seemed to drain right out of me.

We had spent most of the day strolling around the square. We had watched the men playing boule, looked at statues of forgotten statesmen and at the pigeons sweeping across the open agora in great fans. We had eaten lunch in a little café on the west side and talked about a major project I was working on.

In connection with the construction of a new metro system, I had been asked to supervise the implementation of a highly advanced Japanese control system. I was also responsible for railroad safety. This work demanded all of my attention, the thought of the thousands of passengers whose lives were in my hands was not something I could take lightly. It was not in my nature to take many things lightly, and certainly not my work, so Lise listened politely, making me feel that what I was doing was important, that it was for the common good, and thus she encouraged me (without wishing to, I’m sure) to go into greater and greater detail. I told her of my trips to various cities around the world to study railroad safety and of my meetings with Japanese engineers – helpful, highly skilled men for whom I had the greatest respect.

Without realizing it, by dint of some slight manipulation I had slowly but surely steered us towards the northeast corner of the square, where the floral mystery of the little trees beckoned enticingly. Although it was perhaps not so much a matter of manipulation, more a shared bodily intuition that led us, late in the afternoon, to that particular spot – I couldn’t say.

We hung suspended there, face to face, as still as two carp in a pool, and then Lise tugged gently at my sleeve.

I may well have cleared my throat, she sighed, a historic sigh, and in the next second she was off and I was rushing after her, feeling as if from one moment to the next I had become her slave.

She didn’t look round, nor did she say one word to me until we were standing, ten minutes later, outside her front door. She didn’t appear surprised to see me, only a mite irritated, perhaps.

I smiled at her, a smile she did not return, then together we climbed the stairs.

Her apartment was exceptionally small, consisting of but one room and a bathroom equipped, somewhat surprisingly, with an extremely large bathtub.

I had never visited her home before, we had always met in the square, and only once had we ventured to spend the night together at a nearby hotel. Not that this had led to more than a goodnight kiss on the cheek, I had no wish to force her into anything, that wasn’t my style.

"It’s awfully hot in here, don’t you think?" she said, going to open a window.

It was uncommonly stuffy in the tiny flat, and before long I had to undo a button on my shirt, I’m not the stalwart type, and soon my sleeves were also rolled up.

Lise handed me a glass of water and announced that she had something to show me.

She knelt down in front of the bookcase and proceeded to haul lots of old exercise books out onto the floor.

She was clearly searching for one particular exercise book. I stood there, contemplating her apple-shaped bottom: the trees, the brisk walk and the heat had all done their bit.

"Here it is," she said, and I dutifully knelt down beside her.

It suddenly occurred to me that I didn’t know Lise’s surname, that I had either failed to ask or, worse, possibly asked and then forgotten it. I was struck by a fleeting pang of guilt and on impulse I put my arm around her.

She carried on flicking through the exercise book, showing me how her father had striven to get the little upstrokes of the copperplate just right, and after a while, as my arm began to tire, I shifted it back a little so that it landed around her waist.

At that she rolled forward slightly on her knees and moments later I found my hand resting on her bottom.

I don’t know what came over me, but since she didn’t say anything, and since she appeared to be totally engrossed in poring over the old exercise books and showing them to me, my hand began, all of its own accord, to stroke her buttocks. She didn’t seem to have anything against this, she sighed at any rate, this time a delectable little sigh that barely escaped her lips.

I don’t know quite how to describe what happened next, it was as if some other man had taken possession of my body and I only came to my senses some time later when I sank down on top of her, she still with her bottom in the air (but with her skirt around her waist and her stockings and panties around her ankles) and me with my fly open and the ice-cold conviction that in that instant I had deposited my fate in her lap.