He adjusted the pedals and set the dampers so they lifted more easily. And that’s all it took for the sound, which had moments before been a little subdued, to be set free. In this small room it certainly felt brighter. But was that acceptable? The more strident tone fitted the younger sister’s performance, but what effect would it have on her older sister’s more serene style of playing?

The younger girl sat down to try the piano again after Mr Yanagi had adjusted it. ‘Oh! It rings out so much more clearly now!’ She stopped playing after a moment, stood up and gave Mr Yanagi an excited little bow. ‘Thank you so very much.’

The older sister bowed in turn. Lined up side by side, they really were two peas in a pod, performing gestures in tandem. The younger one probably had the broader smile. The way each played the piano, however, was utterly and unmistakably distinct.

The sun had already set but the little white company car in the car park had grown warm and stuffy. Mr Yanagi placed his bag with his tuning tools on the back seat and opened the passenger door.

‘So what did you think?’ he asked as he squeezed into his seat.

I wasn’t sure if he was referring to the sisters or the piano, and hesitated.

‘The way she plays is always so delightful,’ Mr Yanagi said, chuckling, his eyes creasing up with mirth. ‘I haven’t heard such spirited playing for quite some time.’ He glanced over at me for a reaction. ‘It was so passionate, don’t you think? Makes it even more worthwhile tuning that piano.’

‘I wish she’d played a proper piece, though,’ I said. It was hard to tell if I could get away with showing any more enthusiasm.

Mr Yanagi shook his head vigorously so that a section of short black hair fell across one eye. ‘That was a Chopin étude. It’s short, but if she’d played anything longer we would have had to leave. We spent more time than was allowed in our schedule.’

A Chopin étude? I knew very little about classical music but could recognize some pieces, and surely that wasn’t Chopin. If anything, just a few finger exercises, I thought. And then it hit me.

‘Didn’t the younger sister play the Chopin étude?’

Mr Yanagi turned to look at me from the passenger seat, wide-eyed and eyebrows raised. ‘What? You mean – you prefer the way the older sister plays?’

I nodded. Of course I did. I could honestly say it had touched my heart. I had never heard music communicated with such emotion and poise in equal measure.

‘But why?’ He wasn’t going to let this go. ‘The older sister’s performance feels quite banal. She’s very precise, sure. But when it comes to flair, the younger sister has it in spades.’