‘Klara,’ she said quietly. ‘Remember. Mr Capaldi will want to ask you some questions. In fact, he may have quite a few. You just answer them. Okay, honey?’

It was the first time she’d called me ‘honey’. I replied, ‘Yes, of course,’ and then the brick building was there before us, and I saw that each window had within it a graph-paper pattern.

There was a door at ground level beside two trash cans, and when Josie and the Father reached it, they turned and waited, as though it was up to the Mother to lead us in. Seeing this, she let go of me and went up to the door by herself. She stood there quite still for a moment, then pressed the door button.

‘Henry,’ she said into the wall speaker. ‘We’re here.’

* * *

—

The interior of Mr Capaldi’s house was nothing like its outside. In his Main Room the floors were almost the same shade of white as his huge walls. Powerful spotlights fixed to the ceiling shone down on us, making it hard to look up without being dazzled. There was very little furniture for such a large space: one large black sofa, and in front of it, a low table on which Mr Capaldi had laid out two cameras and their lenses. The low table, like the Glass Display Trolley in our store, had wheels to allow it to move smoothly across the floor.

‘Henry, we don’t want Josie getting tired,’ the Mother was saying. ‘Maybe we can get started?’

‘Of course.’ Mr Capaldi waved towards the far corner, where two charts were fixed side by side to the wall. I could see, on each chart, many ruled lines criss-crossing at various angles. A light metal chair had been left in front of the charts, and also a tripod-stand lamp. Just now the tripod-stand lamp wasn’t switched on, and the far corner looked dark and lonely. Josie and the Mother gazed towards it apprehensively, then Mr Capaldi, perhaps noticing, touched something on the low table and the tripod-stand lamp came to life, brightly illuminating the entire corner, but creating new shadows.

‘This will be totally relaxed,’ Mr Capaldi said. He had a balding head, and a beard that almost hid his mouth. I estimated fifty-two years old. His face was constantly on the brink of smiling. ‘Nothing strenuous. So if Josie’s ready, let’s maybe get started. Josie, if you’d care to come this way?’

‘Henry, wait,’ the Mother said, her voice echoing in the space. ‘I was hoping to see the portrait first. What you’ve done so far.’

‘Of course,’ Mr Capaldi said. ‘Though you must understand, it’s still work in progress. And it’s not always easy for a layperson to understand the way these things slowly take shape.’

‘I’d like to take a look all the same.’

‘I’ll take you up. In fact, Chrissie, you know you don’t need my permission. You’re the boss here.’

‘It’s kind of scary,’ Josie said, ‘but I’d like to take a peek too.’

‘Uh uh, honey. I promised Mr Capaldi you wouldn’t see anything yet.’

‘I tend to agree,’ Mr Capaldi said. ‘If you don’t mind, Josie. In my experience, if the subject sees a portrait too early, things get messy. I need you to remain totally unselfconscious.’

‘Unselfconscious about what exactly?’ the Father asked, his voice loud and echoing. He’d kept on his raincoat, even though Mr Capaldi had twice invited him to hang it on one of the pegs inside the entrance. He had now drifted towards the charts and was studying them with a frown.

‘What I mean, Paul, is that if the subject, in this case Josie, becomes too self-conscious, she may start posing unnaturally. That’s all I was meaning.’

The Father kept staring at the wall charts. Then he shook his head in the same way he had in the car.

‘Henry?’ the Mother said. ‘May I go now to your studio? See what you’ve been doing?’

‘Of course. Follow me.’

Mr Capaldi led the Mother over to a metal staircase rising to a balcony. I watched their ascending feet through the gaps between the steps. Arriving on the balcony, Mr Capaldi pressed a keypad beside a purple door, there was a short hum, and they both went in.

The Purple Door closed behind them, and I went to the black sofa where Josie was sitting. I wanted to make a humorous remark to relax her, but the Father spoke first from the illuminated corner.

‘I guess the idea, animal, is that you get photographed over and over in front of these charts.’ He stepped in closer. ‘See this. Measurements marked along every line.’

‘You know, Dad,’ Josie said. ‘Mom told us you were cool about coming today. But maybe it wasn’t such a great idea. We could have met up somewhere else. Done something different.’

‘Don’t worry, we’ll do something else later. Something better than this.’ Then he turned and smiled at her gently. ‘This portrait. Let’s say it gets finished. What bothers me is that I won’t get to have it with me. Because your mom will want it with her.’

‘You could come see it any time,’ Josie said. ‘It could be like your excuse. To come more often.’

‘Look, Josie, I’m sorry. The way everything’s turned out. I wish I could be with you more. A lot more.’

‘That’s okay, Dad. It’s all working out now. Hey, Klara. What do you think of my dad here? Not such a crazy, huh?’

‘It’s been a great pleasure to meet Mr Paul.’

The Father went on looking at the charts as though I hadn’t spoken, making a pointing gesture towards a detail. When at last he turned to face me, his eyes had lost their smiling folds.

‘Pleasure to meet you too, Klara,’ he said. Then he looked at Josie. ‘Tell you what, animal. Let’s get done with all of this quickly. Then just the two of us, we can go somewhere, get something to eat. There’s a place I’m thinking you’d like.’

‘Yeah, sure. If that’s okay with Mom and Klara.’

She turned to look over her shoulder, and just at that moment, up on the balcony, the Purple Door opened and Mr Capaldi came out. He called back into his studio through the doorway:

‘You’re welcome to stay in there as long as you want. I’d better go and see to Josie.’

I heard the Mother’s voice say something, then she too came out onto the balcony. She had lost her usual straight-backed posture and Mr Capaldi extended a hand, as though ready to catch her if she fell over.

‘You okay there, Chrissie?’

The Mother pushed past Mr Capaldi and started down the steps, holding onto the rail. Midway down, she paused to push back her hair, then she came down the rest of the way.