Papa felt dumb, I knew it. He knew, ahead of time, that however he responded to Mother’s poems, it would be the wrong way. I knew this feeling. I put a bit of the velvet curtains in my mouth and sucked them, but there was only dust.

‘Veda, I don’t understand these things. I go with my guts, and they’re sometimes wrong. I’m not educated. If I didn’t have Parish to guide me, I’d be making a big fool of myself with the gallery. Don’t make me read poetry. I’m your stupid money-making husband. Let me just bring home the bacon and let you be brilliant.’

Mother looked at him levelly. ‘I’m not brilliant, Jo.’

Papa looked at her and sighed.

Her voice rose a notch. ‘I’m not brilliant. I need help.’

‘Well, can’t Knox help you? Hasn’t he helped you already?’

‘Yes, but—’ I heard Mother’s note of frustration. ‘But Knox runs a bookshop. He is a retailer who occasionally puts out a magazine. He has rent to pay and stock to sell. I need to find a publisher for a book. A proper publisher. And I just, well, I can’t ask Mr Parish … I need you to ask him. I need you to give him my manuscript.’

Papa relaxed, all of a sudden. I saw his body go soft in the middle. He poured some red wine into his glass and resumed his cigarette. ‘Darling, no problem. Easy peasy. Course I’ll talk to Parish. He’ll find you a publisher. He’ll find you the best publisher. Darling, darling!’ He moved his chair round to Mother’s side of the table and put his arm around her. ‘Veda. Why didn’t you bring this up before?’ Mother looked gracious, imperious, but I knew she was just tired.

I retreated from the curtains. I didn’t want to see the rest. I got back in the bed with you, Ornella, but you were dead to the world, not even snoring. Your arm went over me like a robot’s arm.

ATTENTIVE PLACEMENT

Papa started taking me to work with him once a week. You started having me in Coburg overnight. The Parishes had me in the gaps. I didn’t like it. I had to have a bag all the time that went between places with me. I had to have a different routine, a different kind of dinner, a different toothbrush at each house.

‘Mother needs it this way for a bit,’ said Papa. ‘You have to be a big boy and understand.’