Klara and the Sun(58)

‘You know what I think?’ There was concern in Josie’s voice. ‘I think maybe your old store’s moved on.’

‘Yes. Perhaps.’

But I had no more time to think about the store, for what I saw next – between the two front seats – was the Cootings Machine. I recognized it before we were close enough to see the name on its body. There it was, throwing out Pollution from three funnels the way it had always done. I knew I should feel anger, but coming on it after the surprise about the store, I felt something almost like kindness towards the terrible machine. Then we’d passed it, the Mother and the Father continuing to speak with tension, and Josie said beside me: ‘These stores, the way they keep changing. That day I came looking for you, that’s what I was afraid of. That the store would have gone, you and all your friends with it.’

I smiled at her, but didn’t say anything. In the front the adults’ voices grew louder.

‘Look, Paul, we’ve been over and over this. Josie, Klara and I are going in there and we’re proceeding just as planned. You agreed to it, remember?’

‘I agreed to it, but I can still comment, can’t I?’



‘Not here you can’t! Not now and not in this goddam car!’

Josie, all this time, had been saying something to me, but she’d become distracted. Now, as the adults fell silent, she said: ‘If you want, Klara, we can go look for it tomorrow provided we’ve time.’

I almost thought she meant the Cootings Machine, then realized she was referring to whatever new premises Manager and the other AFs might have gone to. I thought she was being hasty in assuming they’d definitely moved, simply because the window had looked different, and was about to say so, when she leaned forward to the adults.

‘Mom? Just if there’s time tomorrow? Klara wants to go find out what’s happened to her old store. Could we do that?’

‘If you want, honey. That was the deal. Today we go and see Mr Capaldi and you do what he asks. Tomorrow we do what you want.’

The Father shook his head and turned to his own window, but because Josie was sitting directly behind him, she didn’t see his expression.

‘Don’t worry, Klara.’ She reached over to touch my arm. ‘We’ll find it tomorrow.’



* * *



—

The Mother steered the car off the street into a small yard enclosed by wire mesh. There was an anti-parking sign fixed to a fence, but she stopped the car facing it beside the only other car present. When we got out, the ground was hard and cracked in many places. Josie began her cautious walk beside the Father towards a brick building overlooking the yard, and perhaps because of the uneven ground, the Father took her arm. The Mother, standing at the car, watched this and didn’t move for a moment. Then to my surprise, she came up to me and took my own arm, and we began to walk together, as though in imitation of the Father and Josie.



There were no other adjoining buildings to either side, and I designated it a building rather than a house because the brickwork was unpainted and dark fire escapes rose up in zigzags. There were five stories ending at a flat rooftop, and I had the impression the reason there were no neighbor buildings was because something unfortunate had happened, and they’d had to be cleared away by the overhaul men. As I stepped over the cracks, the Mother leaned closer towards me.

‘Klara,’ she said quietly. ‘Remember. Mr Capaldi will want to ask you some questions. In fact, he may have quite a few. You just answer them. Okay, honey?’

It was the first time she’d called me ‘honey’. I replied, ‘Yes, of course,’ and then the brick building was there before us, and I saw that each window had within it a graph-paper pattern.

There was a door at ground level beside two trash cans, and when Josie and the Father reached it, they turned and waited, as though it was up to the Mother to lead us in. Seeing this, she let go of me and went up to the door by herself. She stood there quite still for a moment, then pressed the door button.

‘Henry,’ she said into the wall speaker. ‘We’re here.’



* * *



—

The interior of Mr Capaldi’s house was nothing like its outside. In his Main Room the floors were almost the same shade of white as his huge walls. Powerful spotlights fixed to the ceiling shone down on us, making it hard to look up without being dazzled. There was very little furniture for such a large space: one large black sofa, and in front of it, a low table on which Mr Capaldi had laid out two cameras and their lenses. The low table, like the Glass Display Trolley in our store, had wheels to allow it to move smoothly across the floor.



‘Henry, we don’t want Josie getting tired,’ the Mother was saying. ‘Maybe we can get started?’

‘Of course.’ Mr Capaldi waved towards the far corner, where two charts were fixed side by side to the wall. I could see, on each chart, many ruled lines criss-crossing at various angles. A light metal chair had been left in front of the charts, and also a tripod-stand lamp. Just now the tripod-stand lamp wasn’t switched on, and the far corner looked dark and lonely. Josie and the Mother gazed towards it apprehensively, then Mr Capaldi, perhaps noticing, touched something on the low table and the tripod-stand lamp came to life, brightly illuminating the entire corner, but creating new shadows.