I got home at half past four for lunch. Tuesday is a short day. The women were out, the house was empty. Silence is never just a lack of noise. In the kitchen I lit the gas under the pot on the stove and turned on some classical music.

There was a note on the table: Phone Rafa, 983754.

There were different Rafas known to me in Madrid, and at the moment I was in touch with none of them. I was perplexed. I changed my clothes in the bedroom but the person of Rafa refused to come back to me.