He was inspecting me closely too. ‘I’m not looking for anyone, ’ he said.

My spirit withered. ‘Oh,’ I said faintly.

‘Doesn’t mean I don’t need someone. Just haven’t got round to looking yet. Been too busy.’

‘So . . . does that mean you’d be interested in . . .’

He gestured towards the workshop. ‘I can’t do it all myself,’ he said, as if I’d told him he must. ‘Why, are you looking for a job?’

‘Yes. I can start straight away.’

‘You’re a framer?’

‘I . . .’ The question had floored me, but I did my best not to show it. I wasn’t a framer—in all my time working for Saul I hadn’t framed a single picture—but I sensed that ‘no’ would be the wrong answer. I was as eager to prolong my conversation with Aidan as I had been to leave a few moments earlier. I couldn’t let him dismiss me. It scared me to feel such a strong, irrational need for a stranger who owed me nothing. ‘At the moment I haven’t got a job,’ I said. ‘I used to work for Saul at the Spilling Gallery, but I didn’t . . .’

‘How long were you there?’

‘Nearly two years.’

‘Right,’ he said. Was he grinning at me or sneering? ‘What did you think of Hansard’s framing skills?’

‘I . . . I don’t know. I . . .’ Surely one picture-framer’s methods would be much like another’s, I thought. Again, I sensed this would be the wrong thing to say, so I kept quiet.

‘Did he train you?’ Aidan asked.

‘No. I never actually did any framing.’ Better to admit it straight away than be caught out trying to wing it, I decided. ‘Saul took care of that side of things. I did some admin for him, answered the phone, took care of sales . . .’

‘In two years, you never framed a picture?’

I shook my head.

Aidan jerked his in the direction of his workshop. ‘If I put you in there and told you to get started, would you know what to do?’

‘No.’

He pushed his fringe out of his eyes with his paint-spotted right arm. ‘In that case, you’re no use to me. I’m a picture-framer. I need a picture-framer to help me. Frame more pictures, ’ he said slowly, as if I was stupid.

‘I can learn,’ I told him. ‘I’m a quick learner.’

‘You’re a receptionist. I don’t want a receptionist. Hansard doesn’t listen. No surprise there—his head’s all over the place. You must know that if you’ve worked for him.’

Was he testing me? I wasn’t about to be disloyal to Saul, who had always treated me well.

‘You can’t be a picture-framer and run an art gallery at the same time,’ said Aidan. ‘Hansard spreads himself too thin, ends up making a hash of everything. That’s why I asked what you thought of his framing. I’ve seen his work—it’s shoddy. He doesn’t use acid-free tape or backing card.’