Leonie had spotted the violin case. She dropped to the floor, shuffled across and reached up for it as Ruby drew it away instinctively.

Gregor said, “Oh, don’t touch, baby girl. Precious.”

The child’s eyes flitted between Ruby and Gregor. Then the little hands reached for the violin again. Gregor squatted and picked her up. “Ruby’s going to play something for you, Leonie. Shall we go in the living room?”

Constance was sitting in the exact same place as before, wearing a blue woolen skirt and a long-sleeved top. She acknowledged Ruby with a small movement of her head before resuming staring at the big picture on the wall, a large photograph of the ocean during a storm. Her hair was coiled into its rope, gleaming black against her shoulder. The way she stared at the seascape, as if she longed to dive in, suddenly brought to mind a ballet Ruby had played for, back when she was a student at the conservatoire: Ondine. Constance’s long limbs, so graceful as she sat there, pointed feet crossed; Ruby could imagine her dancing the character of the water nymph. It was as if her pose was simply a pause in the choreography, and at any moment she might rise, wraith-like, from the couch and perform a slow pirouette.

“See?” Gregor said to Constance. “She’s come back. I told you she’d come back. And she’s going to play for us.”

“Oh,” said Ruby, “only if you don’t mind.”

Constance looked back at them and nodded, almost imperceptibly. Her expression was hard to read, her eyes glassy. It was past lunchtime, but despite her physical poise she looked vacant, as if she’d just woken up.

“What songs do we know?” said Gregor to Leonie. “‘Twinkle, Twinkle’?”

“Yay!” said Leonie.

“Can you play that, Ruby?”

Ruby was unfolding her music stand. ‘Twinkle, Twinkle’? Maybe she wouldn’t need the stand. She took out her instrument and played the tune from memory. While the sound of the nursery rhyme filled the room, only Constance looked away, still focused on the print. The sun streamed through the window, surrounding her in a kind of ethereal glow. It was as if she held herself apart, was only half there in the room. Ruby wondered where the rest of her was, which world her attention had wandered to. Certainly one with a wild sea and a dark, brooding sky.

At the end of the song, Leonie applauded wildly. Gregor stared. “That was so beautiful,” he said.

“What?” Ruby laughed. “It was just a nursery rhyme.”

“Yes, but the violin. The sound it makes, that you make, it was …”

She noticed that Constance had turned her head, was staring at him, her lips pressed together. Ruby suddenly felt acutely aware of the attention Gregor was showing her.

She lowered the instrument.