‘What’s important,’ the food blending woman said, ‘is that this next generation learn how to be comfortable with every sort of person. That’s what Peter always says.’ Then as other voices murmured in agreement, she asked the Mother: ‘Did his folks just…decide not to go ahead? Lose their nerve?’

The Mother’s kind smile vanished and everyone who’d heard seemed to stop talking. The food blending woman herself froze in horror. Then she reached out a hand towards the Mother.

‘Oh, Chrissie. What did I say? I didn’t mean…’

‘It’s okay,’ the Mother said. ‘Please forget it.’

‘Oh, Chrissie, I’m so sorry. I’m so stupid sometimes. I only meant…’

‘It’s our worst fear,’ a firmer voice nearby said. ‘Every one of us here.’

‘It’s okay,’ the Mother said. ‘Let’s leave it.’

‘Chrissie,’ the food blending woman said, ‘I only meant a nice boy like that…’

‘Some of us were lucky, some of us weren’t.’ A black-skinned woman, saying this, stepped forward and touched the Mother’s shoulder kindly.

‘But Josie’s fine now, isn’t she?’ another voice asked. ‘She looks so much better.’

‘She has good days and bad,’ the Mother said.

‘She’s looking so much better.’

The food blending woman said: ‘She’s going to be just fine, I know it. You were so courageous, after all you’d been through. Josie will be really grateful to you one day.’

‘Pam, come on.’ The black-skinned woman reached forward and began to lead the food blending woman away. But the Mother, looking at the food blending woman, said quietly:

‘Do you suppose Sal would want to thank me?’

At this, the food blending woman burst into tears. ‘Look, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m so stupid, I just open my mouth and…’ She sobbed, then continued loudly: ‘And now you all know it, know for certain I’m the world’s greatest fool! It was just that nice boy, it seems so unfair…Chrissie, I’m so sorry.’

‘Look, really, please forget it.’ The Mother, now making more effort, reached forward and held the food blending woman in a light hug. The food blending woman immediately returned the hug, and went on crying, her chin on the Mother’s shoulder.

There was an awkward quiet, then the black-skinned woman said in a cheerful voice: ‘Well, they seem to be managing okay in there. No sounds yet of an all-out brawl.’

Everyone laughed loudly, and then the Mother said in a new voice:

‘Hey, what are we doing still out here? Let’s go in the kitchen, please, everyone. Melania’s been preparing more of those wonderful pastries from her homeland.’

A voice said in a pretend whisper: ‘I believe we’re still out here…so we can eavesdrop!’

This brought another big laugh, and the Mother was smiling once more.

‘If they need us,’ she said, ‘we’ll hear about it. Please, go on through.’

As the adults started to move into the kitchen, I could hear more clearly the voices from the Open Plan, but couldn’t make out any words. An adult passed near me saying: ‘Our Jenny got quite upset after that last meeting. We spent the whole weekend explaining to her how she’d misinterpreted everything.’

‘Klara. You’re still here.’

The Mother was standing before me.

‘Yes.’

‘Why aren’t you in there? With Josie?’

‘But…she didn’t take me in.’

‘Go on. She needs you with her. And the other kids want to meet you.’

‘Yes, of course. Then excuse me.’

The Sun, noticing there were so many children in the one place, was pouring in his nourishment through the wide windows of the Open Plan. Its network of sofas, soft rectangles, low tables, plant pots, photograph books, had taken me a long time to master, yet now it had been so transformed it might have been a new room. There were young people everywhere and their bags, jackets, oblongs were all over the floor and surfaces. What was more, the room’s space had become divided into twenty-four boxes – arranged in two tiers – all the way to the rear wall. Because of this partitioning, it was hard to gain an overall view of what was before me, but I gradually made sense of things. Josie was near the middle of the room talking with three guest girls. Their heads were almost touching, and because of how they were standing, the upper parts of their faces, including all their eyes, had been placed in a box on the higher tier, while all their mouths and chins had been squeezed into a lower box. The majority of the children were on their feet, some moving between boxes. Over at the rear wall, three boys were seated on the modular sofa, and even though they were sitting apart, their heads had been placed together inside a single box, while the outstretched leg of the boy nearest the window extended not only across the neighboring box, but right into the one beyond. There was an unpleasant tint on the three boxes containing the boys on the sofa – a sickly yellow – and an anxiety passed through my mind. Then other people moved across my view of them, and I began to attend instead to the voices around me.

Although someone had said as I’d come in, ‘Oh, here’s the new AF, she’s cute!’ almost all the voices I now heard were discussing Rick. Josie must only recently have been standing beside him, but her conversation with the guest girls had caused her to turn her back to him, and he was now by himself, not conversing with anyone.

‘He’s a friend of Josie. Lives nearby,’ a girl was saying behind me.

‘We should be nice to him,’ another girl said. ‘It must be weird for him, being here with us.’

‘Why’d Josie ask him? He must feel so weird.’

‘How about we offer him something. Make him feel welcome.’

The girl – who was thin and had unusually long arms – picked up a metal dish filled with chocolates and went towards Rick. I also moved further into the room, and heard her say to him:

‘Excuse me. Would you care for a bonbon?’

Rick had been watching Josie talking to the three guest girls, but now turned to the long-armed girl.

‘Go ahead,’ she said, raising the dish higher. ‘They’re good.’

‘Thank you very much.’ He looked into the dish and chose a chocolate wrapped in shiny green paper.

Though the voices continued all around the room, I realized that suddenly everyone – including Josie and her guest girls – was now watching Rick.