Klara and the Sun

‘Housekeeper,’ I said. ‘I have a plan, a special plan to help Josie. I’m not able to speak openly about it. But if I can go to the city with Josie and her mother, I may have the opportunity to carry it out.’

‘Plan? Listen, AF. You make things worse, I fuck come dismantle you.’

‘But if my plan works, Josie will become strong and well. She’ll be able to go to college and become an adult. Unfortunately I’m not free to tell you more. But if I can get to the city, I’ll have a chance.’

‘Okay. Main thing, AF, you keep good eye Miss Josie in city Thursday. Hear me?’

‘Yes, housekeeper.’

‘And AF. Your big plan. If it make Miss Josie worse I come dismantle you. Shove you in garbage.’

‘Housekeeper,’ I said, smiling confidently at her for the first time since coming to the house, ‘thank you for this talk and for your warning. And thank you for trusting me. I’ll do everything I can to protect Josie.’

‘Okay, AF. We same side.’

***

There was one further incident of note during this period before the trip to the city, and it was one that provided me with an important lesson. It occurred deep in the night when I was brought awake by Josie making a noise. The bedroom was dark, but because Josie disliked complete darkness, the blind covering the front window was one third raised, and the moon and stars were making patterns on the wall and floor. When I looked towards the bed, I saw Josie had created a mound shape there with her duvet, and a humming noise was coming from within it, as if she were trying to remember a tune and hadn’t wished to disturb the rest of the house.

I moved closer to the mound shape, then when I was standing over it, touched it gently. Immediately it erupted, the duvet disintegrating into the surrounding darkness, and the room became filled with Josie’s sobbing.

‘Josie, what’s the matter?’ I kept my voice low, but urgent. ‘Has the pain come back?’

‘No! No pain! But I want Mom! Get Mom! I need her here!’

Not only was her voice loud, it was as if it had been folded over onto itself, so that two versions of her voice were being sounded together, pitched fractionally apart. I’d never before heard her produce such a voice and for a second became hesitant. She brought herself up into a kneeling position and now I saw the duvet hadn’t disintegrated after all, but was in a large ball behind her.

‘Get Mom!’

‘But your mother needs to rest.’ I kept my voice a whisper. ‘I’m your AF. This is exactly why I’m here. I’m always here.’

‘I didn’t say you. I need Mom!’

‘But Josie…’

There was movement behind me, and I was pushed aside so that I almost lost balance. When I recovered, I saw before me, on the near edge of the bed, a large shifting shape, made additionally complex by the patches of blackness and moonlight moving over its surface. I realized the shape was the Mother and Josie embracing — the Mother dressed in what looked like pale running clothes, Josie in her usual dark blue pajamas. As well as their limbs, their hair had become mingled, and then their shape began gently to rock, in a way not unlike when their goodbyes became extended.

‘Don’t want to die, Mom. I don’t want that.’

‘It’s okay. Okay.’ The Mother’s voice was soft, at just the same level mine had been.

‘I don’t want that, Mom.’

‘I know. I know. It’s okay.’

I moved quietly away from them towards the doorway, then out onto the dark landing. I stood at the rail, looking at the strange night patterns on the ceiling and the hallway below, and turned over in my mind the implications of what had just occurred.

After a while, the Mother came quietly out of the bedroom and, without looking my way, turned into the darkness of the short corridor that led to her own room. There was now silence from behind Josie’s door, and when I returned to the bedroom, the duvet and the bed were orderly, and Josie was sleeping, her breaths peaceful again.

PART FOUR

The Friend’s Apartment was inside a townhouse. From the window of its Main Lounge I could see similar townhouses on the opposite side of the street. There were six of them in a row, and the front of each had been painted a slightly different color, to prevent a resident climbing the wrong steps and entering a neighbor’s house by mistake.

I made this observation aloud to Josie that day, forty minutes before we set off to see the portrait man, Mr Capaldi. She was lying on the leather sofa behind me, reading a paperback she’d taken down from the black bookshelves. The Sun’s pattern was falling across her raised knees, and she was so engrossed in her reading, she made only a vague noise in reply. I was pleased about this because earlier she’d been getting very tense with the waiting. She’d relaxed noticeably once I’d gone to stand at the triple window, knowing I’d alert her the moment the Father’s taxi drew up outside.