‘Have a guess,’ said Florence. ‘What did Fred want?’

‘This and that – you know how Fred can be. It takes you half an hour to work out why he’s calling.’ Mr Mayhood seemed to float towards them in a daze. He sat on Joyce’s chair and studied what she’d done. ‘This is very good so far. Is she not going to finish it?’

‘She’s gone to her appointment.’ It was like a nervous tic, this strange compulsion Charlie had to leap in and defend his sister. ‘Mr Kimball gets all hot and bothered when she’s late.’ No doubt he’d still be doing it when they were in their dotage. One day, they’d be buried next to one another in the cemetery, and his epitaph would read: Joyce didn’t mean it.

‘Fair enough. Important that she stays in his good graces.’

‘As it happens, she’s a dab hand with a paintbrush,’ Florence said. ‘Early days, but if she keeps this up, I’d let her colour anything of mine.’

‘I wonder if she’d take well to sciagraphy.’ Mr Mayhood glanced towards the page again, then back at her. ‘I think she learns much quicker when you teach her, Flo. It’s something to consider.’

‘Yes, I’ll dig out my McGoodwin. Give her a few things to try.’

‘For Charlie, too.’

‘Of course.’

He’d come across that word before, sciagraphy, but he’d forgotten where. Perhaps in Ruskin. He was going to ask them to explain it, but then Florence said, ‘I heard you making plans with Fred. Don’t tell me he’s got tickets for a show. You’ll end up in an oyster bar somewhere until the morning, and he’ll land you with the bill.’

‘He’s going to see a play tonight – but that’s not where I’m taking you.’

‘Please, don’t drag me into it. I haven’t got the energy.’ She put her hands on Mr Mayhood’s shoulders and began to straighten out the back of his shirt collar, which had formed a little kink over his tie. ‘I love Fred, but he drinks too much, and so do you when you’re together.’

‘No, no – this is strictly business. And Fred’s not going to be there. He’s just setting up a meeting with a friend of his. He’s given me a lead.’

Charlie wished he had a kink in his own collar. He’d make sure to put one there on purpose next time, lose a button for good measure.

‘I thought we’d given up on all that nonsense,’ she said. ‘Fluttering our lashes for commissions.’

‘This is different. I just want to get our name into the reckoning.’

‘A competition?’

‘Yes.’

‘For what?’

‘Battersea Poly. New halls of residence. They’re planning an expansion, and a big one from the sounds of it.’

‘Well, I didn’t see it posted, and you know I check the trades,’ she said.

‘There’s politics at play, as ever.’ Mr Mayhood swivelled round and stood. He took her by the hand and kissed her on the forehead. ‘Fred thinks if we meet this fella and his wife, turn on the charm, they’ll put us on the list.’