Today Andi surprised me for the first time. "Why don't we have work?" he asks, as if I don't want it.

"Because they didn't ask me," I shrug helplessly. "Do you know what work there is?" Yes, I do, and I tell him about the rattling.

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He gets up and bangs on the cell door. The hatch opens and a guard demands to know what's going on.

I wouldn't have dared before. "We want to work," Andi says. "No problem," the guard replies and disappears.

That's how it works! You have to say what you want, Andi tells me. Otherwise they won't lift a finger.

After the yard time, two bags of bakelite, two empty paper bags and a big pile of pens, screws, washers and nuts are tipped into the cell by a guard. Well, good work!

The same goes for books. You have to tell the beadle to stop with his book trolley when he makes his rounds on Wednesdays.

You bet. Eventually they will come of their own accord, Andi tells me. But only if they wanted to. It doesn't hurt to ask, he grins mischievously.

Before dinner, when the full sacks are collected, I ask the trolley guy if he can come by tomorrow with his books. “Anything else?” he growls back.

"Don't worry, he'll come," Andi reassures me. To thank him, I sing him a song by Reinharad Mey:

"Gute Nacht, Freunde (Good night, friends) /

Es wird Zeit für mich zu gehen (It's time for me to go)" ...

Andi's eyes get moist.

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