‘You should have told me before,’ Josie said. ‘I know how much you love looking out.’

‘Thank you. Thank you so much.’

For a moment we looked at each other with gentle smiles. Then she glanced around at the items strewn over the floor.

‘Boy, what a mess! Okay, I promise to tidy everything. But just now I’ve got to go attend to something. Don’t try doing any of this yourself. I’ll do it later, okay?’

* * *

—

The Mother, like Josie, had less to do with me during this period, sometimes not looking my way even when she encountered me around the house. I understood that this was a busy time for her, and also that possibly my presence brought back difficult memories. But there was one occasion when she gave me special attention.

Josie herself was away that day, but it being the weekend, the Mother was at home. I’d been up in the Utility Room for most of the morning, but when I’d heard the voices below, I’d gone out onto the top landing. I then quickly realized the man speaking with the Mother down in the hallway was Mr Capaldi.

I was surprised because there hadn’t been any mention of Mr Capaldi for a long time. He and the Mother were talking in easy tones, but as they continued, I could hear tension enter the Mother’s voice. Then her footsteps sounded, and I saw her looking up at me from three floors below.

‘Klara,’ she called up. ‘Mr Capaldi’s here. You’ll remember him, of course. Come on down and say hello.’

Then as I was descending carefully, I heard the Mother say: ‘That wasn’t the agreement, Henry. That wasn’t what you said.’

To which Mr Capaldi said: ‘I just want to put it to her. That’s all.’

Mr Capaldi was heavier than when I’d last seen him that day in his building, and the hair around his ears had become a lighter gray. He greeted me warmly, then led the way into the Open Plan, saying: ‘Just wanted to run a few things past you, Klara. You could be of great help to us.’

The Mother said nothing as she followed us in. Mr Capaldi sat down on the modular sofa, leaning back into the cushions, and this relaxed posture reminded me of the boy Danny, at the interaction meeting, sitting on the same sofa with a leg extended across it. In contrast to Mr Capaldi’s manner, the Mother remained standing very straight in the center of the room, and when Mr Capaldi invited me to sit, she said:

‘I think Klara’s happier standing. Let’s get on with this, Henry.’

‘Come on, Chrissie. This is nothing we have to stress about.’

Then he came out of his relaxed posture, leaning forward towards me.

‘You’ll remember, Klara, how much I’ve always been fascinated by AFs. I’ve always regarded you as our friends. A vital source of education and enlightenment. But as you know, there are people out there who worry about you. People who are scared and resentful.’

‘Henry,’ the Mother said. ‘Please get to the point.’

‘Okay. Here it is. Klara, the fact is, there’s growing and widespread concern about AFs right now. People saying how you’ve become too clever. They’re afraid because they can’t follow what’s going on inside any more. They can see what you do. They accept that your decisions, your recommendations, are sound and dependable, almost always correct. But they don’t like not knowing how you arrive at them. That’s where it comes from, this backlash, this prejudice. So we have to fight back. We have to say to them, okay, you’re worried because you don’t understand how AFs think. Fine, then let’s go take a look under the hood. Let’s reverse-engineer. What you don’t like are sealed black boxes. Okay, let’s open them. Once we see inside, not only do things get a lot less scary, we’ll learn. Learn amazing new things. So this is where you come in, Klara. Those of us on your side, we’re looking for help, for volunteers. We’ve already succeeded in opening a number of black boxes, but we really need to open up a whole lot more. You AFs, you’re magnificent. We’re discovering things we’d never have believed possible. That’s why I’m here today. I’ve never forgotten you, Klara. I know you’ll be uniquely useful to us. Please, will you help?’

He was staring at me so I said: ‘I’d like to assist. So long as it doesn’t inconvenience Josie or her mother…’

‘Wait a minute.’ The Mother moved swiftly around the coffee table until she was standing beside me. ‘This isn’t at all what we talked about over the phone, Henry.’

‘I just wanted to ask Klara, that’s all. This is a chance for her to make a lasting contribution…’

‘Klara deserves better than that.’

‘You may be right there, Chrissie. And I may have badly misjudged this. Even so, now I’m here, and Klara’s standing in front of me, do I have your permission just to ask her?’

‘No, Henry, you don’t. Klara deserves better. She deserves her slow fade.’

‘But we have work to do here. We have to resist this backlash…’

‘Then go resist it elsewhere. Find some other black boxes to prize open. Leave our Klara be. Let her have her slow fade.’

The Mother had stepped in front of me, as though to shield me from Mr Capaldi, and because in her anger she’d taken her position hurriedly, the rear of her shoulder was almost touching my face. As a result, I not only became very conscious of the smooth woven fabric of her dark sweater, but was reminded of the moment she’d reached forward and embraced me, in the front of her car, the time we’d parked beside the Grind Our Own Beef cafe. Peering around the Mother, I saw Mr Capaldi shake his head and lean back again into the cushions.

‘I can’t help feeling,’ he said, ‘that you’re still mad at me, Chrissie. That you’ve been mad at me for a long time. And that’s unfair. Back then, it was you who came to me. Remember? And I just did my best to help you. I’m glad it worked out well with Josie in the end. I truly am. But that’s no reason for you to be so mad at me all the time.’

* * *

—

The last days before Josie’s departure were filled with both tension and excitement. Had Melania Housekeeper still been with us, things might have been calmer. But the New Housekeeper often left tasks undone until the last moment, then tried to do several all at once, and this added to the nervous atmosphere. I felt it important not to get in the way, and remained in the Utility Room for long periods, standing on the platform Josie had made for me, looking out of the high small window across the fields, listening to the noises around the house. Then one afternoon, two days before the departure, I heard Josie’s step on the top landing, and she appeared in the doorway.