* * *

—

Our booth must have been clearly visible to the Mother as she pulled up by the curb on our side of the diner. But she dimmed the lights and remained in the car, perhaps wishing to give privacy, even though she could see Mr Vance had gone.

But when we came out and entered the car, and started to move through the night, I saw she was anxious about Josie being left alone in the Friend’s Apartment – and keen to deliver me there as quickly as possible before she drove Rick and Miss Helen to their reasonable hotel. The Mother had asked, ‘How did it go?’ when we’d first got in, but after Miss Helen had replied, ‘Not so good, we’ll have to see,’ there was little conversation in the car, each person becoming lost in their thoughts.

At night the Friend’s Apartment was even harder to distinguish from its neighbors. The Mother led me up the correct steps, and from the top step I glanced back to the waiting car under the streetlight. I could then see the shapes of Miss Helen and Rick inside it, and wondered what they might be saying to each other now they were alone.

The Friend’s Apartment was just as we’d left it when setting off for Mr Capaldi’s, except of course it was now in darkness. From the entrance hall, I could see the Main Lounge, and the night patterns falling over the sofa on which Josie had waited for the Father’s arrival. Her paperback was still on the rug where she’d let it fall, one corner palely illuminated.

The Mother indicated down the hall, saying softly: ‘She should be fast asleep, so go in quietly. Anything concerns you, call me. I’ll be twenty minutes.’

She was about to go out again, and I didn’t wish to delay Rick and Miss Helen’s return to the reasonable hotel, but I said quietly:

‘It’s possible now we can hope.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘In the morning when the Sun returns. It’s possible for us to hope.’

‘Okay. I guess that’s helpful, the way you’re always optimistic.’ She reached for the door. ‘Don’t turn on any lights. They could disturb her, even inside there.’ Then the Mother became oddly still, standing in the near-dark, her nose almost touching the surface of the door. Without turning, she said: ‘Josie and I had a conversation earlier. It took some strange turns. I guess we were both tired. If she wakes up and says anything peculiar to you, don’t pay it too much attention. Oh, and remember. Leave this chain off or I won’t get back in. Goodnight.’

* * *

—

I entered the Second Bedroom carefully and found Josie sleeping soundly. The room was more narrow than the bedroom at home, but the ceiling was higher, and because Josie had left the blind halfway up, there were shapes falling across the wardrobe and the wall next to it. I went to the window and looked out into the night to establish the path the Sun might take in the morning, and how easy it would be for him to look in. Like the room itself, the window was tall and narrow. Surprisingly close by were the backs of two large buildings, and I could decipher drainpipes marking vertical lines, and repeating windows, most of them empty or blanked out by blinds. Between the two buildings I could see the street beyond, and could tell that by the morning, it would be a busy one. Even now there was a steady flow of vehicles crossing the gap. Above the piece of street was a tall column of night sky, and I estimated the Sun would have no difficulty pouring in his special nourishment from it, narrow though it was. I realized too how important it was that I remain alert, ready at the first sign to raise the blind fully.

‘Klara?’ Josie stirred behind me. ‘Is Mom back too?’

‘She won’t be long. She’s just driving Rick and Miss Helen to their hotel.’

She appeared to return into sleep. But a few moments later I heard the bedclothes move again.

‘I’d never let anything bad happen to you.’ Her breaths became longer and I thought she’d fallen asleep again. Then she said in a clearer voice: ‘Nothing’s changing.’

She’d now become more awake, so I said: ‘Did the Mother discuss with you some new idea?’

‘Well, I don’t think it was an idea. I told her nothing like that’s ever going to happen.’

‘I wonder what it was the Mother suggested.’

‘Didn’t she already talk to you about it? It was nothing. Some vague stuff traveling through her head.’

I wondered if she would say anything more. Then the duvet moved again.

‘She was trying to…offer something, I guess. She said she could give up her job and stay with me the whole time. If I wanted that. She said she could become the one who was always with me. She’d do that if I really wanted it, she’d do it and let her job go, but I said, what would happen to Klara? And she was like, we wouldn’t need Klara any more because she would be with me the whole time. You could tell it wasn’t anything she’d thought through. But she kept asking, like I had to decide, so in the end I told her, look, Mom, this wouldn’t work. You don’t want to give up your job and I don’t want to give up Klara. That was just about all of it. It’s not going to happen and Mom agrees.’

We were quiet for some time after that, Josie hidden in the shadows while I continued to stand at the window.

‘Perhaps,’ I said eventually, ‘the Mother thought if she stayed with Josie all the time, Josie would be less lonely.’

‘Who says I’m lonely?’

‘If that were true, if Josie really would be less lonely with the Mother, then I’d happily go away.’

‘But who says I’m lonely? I’m not lonely.’

‘Perhaps all humans are lonely. At least potentially.’

‘Look, Klara, this was just a shitty idea Mom was having. I was asking her earlier about the portrait, and she got herself into a big knot and came up with this idea. Except it wasn’t an idea, it wasn’t anything. So please can we forget about it?’

She became quiet again, then she was asleep. I decided that if she woke up again, I should say something to prepare her for what might happen in the morning, at least to ensure she did nothing to impede his special help. But now, perhaps because I was in the room with her, her sleep continued to deepen, and eventually I left the window to stand by the wardrobe, from where I knew I’d see the first signs of the Sun’s return.

* * *

—

We sat in the same positions as on the journey coming in. The height of the seat backs meant I could see the Mother only partially as she drove, and Miss Helen hardly at all except when she peered around her seat to emphasize what she was saying. Once – we were still in the city’s slow morning traffic – Miss Helen turned to us in this way and said: