We took glasses and a jug of orange juice tinkling with ice cubes to the table under an umbrella at the far end of the back garden. As my aunt dealt hands of knockout whist, a dark shape leapt onto the umbrella, which quivered in the breeze that had brought the shadow of a tree over the fence. Whoever won each round chose trumps for the next one, where every player received one card less. When I selected diamonds, my uncle gave his cards a wry squint. “That’s what I call a transformation.”

I thought my aunt was about to speak, but she simply glanced towards the woods as if he’d reminded her of an idea. My uncle won the round and soon the game, and we played on. I’d liked whist ever since they’d taught me, but now I was distracted by a sense of being spied upon, which made the face cards I was holding look as though they were peering from behind one another. I kept having to glance at the trees beyond the fence, to see birds darting from branch to branch. They gave me the impression that a presence kept withdrawing into the foliage just as I looked up, and I was quite glad when dinnertime sent us into the house.

My uncle had made a chicken curry or at any rate a politely English approach to one, keeping its distance with the addition of carrots. Dinner was accompanied by a disc of Richard Strauss. “That’s the sun coming up,” my uncle told me. “He brings it up in Also Sprach as well. Now the climbers are shinning up the foothills. Now they’ve reached a meadow with cows in, hence the bells.”

“It isn’t just about climbing in the Alps,” my aunt objected. “It’s about going high so you can see further.”

“That kind of high I don’t mind. You could have told me when you were going up the mountain.”

“I didn’t know I’d need to go that far, Neville. I only knew when I was there.”

“You’re wondering what on earth all this can be about, aren’t you, Patrick? Just your old uncle wishing he could join in like he used to.”

“Neville, you still help me. You’re in my work even if you can’t see where.”

I had a sense that he was unconvinced. Dinner finished as the sun sank back into the dark, in the symphony and more gradually outside the house. I helped my uncle wash up, a wordless process until he murmured “Forget that little disagreement, won’t you? We didn’t need to let you hear. Your aunt went looking for something to paint, that’s all.”

“I thought she just saw things that made her want to paint them.”

“She goes looking now. That’s the new Thelma. If it works for her, that’s what matters.”