Colby’s face fell. ‘Take it, ma’am?’

‘Yes, of course. So this piece I made—it’ll be just perfect for that big room you boys all eat your meals in. It symbolizes danger and power and the fighting spirit. And of course, that caveman who thinks he can try and improve on my work can look at it every day and know he can’t have it!’

She beamed again. ‘I’m so glad we agreed on this. You really are a sweet boy. I keep telling Joseph to ask you over more often. Anyway, there it is. She pointed across the room, her chest swelling with pride, at the grotesque beast bust that they had noticed on the way in.

‘I call it Spirit of Soldiery.’

Colby gulped.

‘Well? You’re not saying anything?’

Colby gulped again. ‘You see, ma’am, the thing is, I need to ask the commander’s permission first.’

‘Why? Just take it! Or, I don’t care, take it and tell him too. He’ll feel it more that way.’

Colby paled.

The woman looked at Colby sharply. ‘Well?’

Behind her, Joe was grinning maliciously, with all the righteous joy of the oppressed seeing justice being served.

Albert looked at Colby’s stricken face, and suddenly felt sorry for him. ‘I think it’s lovely,’ he said.

The woman looked at him for the first time, glee shining in her eyes. ‘Oh, it’s so nice of you to say that, sir.’

‘It is my honour to say it.’

Her eyes sparkled, but with gratitude. ‘Really, it’s very nice of you to say it! Are you an artist too?’

‘I’m afraid not. Merely one who appreciates the beautiful and, I must say, it is very beautiful.’ He tried not to look at the hideous object as he said it.

‘Thank you sir, I’m sure. Thank you so much.’

‘Well, it’s true, Mrs D’Amato. In fact, I like it so much I’m tempted to beg you to let me have it instead of the soldiers.’

She smiled at him, with all the love of a mother reunited with a long lost son. ‘Well, sir, if you want it, then I can’t say no to you, not when you ask so politely, can I? So nice to meet a true art lover. I’d be glad to let you have it.’

‘But I am not sure I can afford to pay you its true worth,’ he said gravely.

Her face glowed. ‘Oh, nonsense, sir. I can’t charge you. Not after you—let’s call it a gift. From an artist to a true connoisseur.’

‘Thank you very much, Mrs D’Amato.’

‘I’ll just wrap it up for you, shall I?’