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Archie told Gabriel to close his mouth and be lulling, seductive, kind. He reminded him of something Jake said. ‘If you become a director, not only will you have the opportunity to speak at inordinate length about the awfulness of other directors, the book you’ve read and the films you’ve made, while people listen, because they have to, you will also get girls. Quite a lot of women like cameras, you will find.’

Gabriel informed Ramona, ‘We’re making a short film, in the summer. How would you like to be in it — or at least audition?’

Her beautiful lips guarded the tongue of an asp. ‘How do you know I want to be an actress? Do I look like an exhibitionist? Show me the story and I’ll give it my fullest consideration.’

‘Your fullest consideration, eh?’

‘That’s right. It better be good.’

Gabriel was staring at her. When she left, she kissed him on the cheek.

That night Gabriel and Zak worked on the script until late, writing, making shot lists and acting out various scenes, as well as trying out possible music. When Gabriel felt tempted to dismiss their work as frivolity, as being not-quite-adult, he thought of Lester on his hands and knees on the floor, as serious as anything about a picture and a few words.

In the morning, as Gabriel and his father breakfasted together, Dad tried to discuss his students, which was difficult, as Hannah felt impelled to produce a show. She’d get on her knees and scrub like a martyr at the feet of Christ, occasionally looking up at her employer with imploring eyes. Gabriel had never known her to clean either under or inside anything but now you could have snacked on any surface or licked any crevice. Nevertheless, Dad felt uncomfortable: although he was used to his wife working in front of him, anyone else made him feel guilty. He had remained an egalitarian in theory.

‘Thank you, Hannah,’ he’d say, a phrase he’d heard the upper classes use in films, hoping that this would somehow make her disappear. But she merely took it as gratitude, to which she soon became addicted, following Dad around with a basket full of cleaning equipment, in the hope of more praise.

When Mum came home Gabriel went to her privately and said, without degrading exaggeration, that Hannah had looked after him well enough but that she was no longer as she had been.

‘You’re right,’ said Mum. ‘We’re really crammed in here now. She’ll have to leave.’

‘Can’t you find her something else?’

‘Yeah. I’ve got an idea. Let me make a call.’

Then she asked Hannah to put her best clothes on. As she and nervous Hannah were leaving, Mum mentioned to Gabriel that Speedy was looking for a housekeeper. It was to his apartment that they were going.

‘Good,’ said Gabriel, nodding at Hannah. ‘Mr Speedy. I would recommend him, for certain things.’

‘Is that right?’ said Mum. ‘How come?’

‘I’ve known him for ages. Dad introduced us.’

‘But why?’

‘We were just hanging around there. And … I’m painting him.’

He had persuaded her not to let Speedy have her copy of Lester’s picture, saying he had to have it for himself. She’d agreed, but didn’t know what he was doing with Speedy.

Now she stopped and said, ‘You’re doing what?’

He had been afraid of telling her, he didn’t know why. It was as if he didn’t believe he was entitled to a private life, or that you could keep anything from your parents.

He said, ‘He looks good, in my opinion. It’s coming out pretty well. I’m using a lot of pink and —’

‘You’ve done a picture of Speedy already?’

‘Only a little one. It’s nearly finished.’

‘Where is it?’

‘At Zak’s. Why are you surprised?’

‘Nothing, er, funny, occurred?’

‘Nope.’

‘How strange.’

‘Not really.’

She was looking at him. ‘These things are up to you, I suppose. I don’t see why you shouldn’t paint Speedy if you feel like it. But why didn’t you tell me?’

‘You were at work.’

‘I see.’ She said, ‘You’re a strong-willed and independent little guy now. That’s good. That’s how it should be.’ She opened the door. ‘Come along, Hannah. I’m going to sort you out now.’

Mum was still shaking her head.

When they returned, Hannah looked pleased and started to pack her things. Speedy needed help; he would take her on straight away.

Mum said, ‘It’ll mostly involve looking after his yoga mat, I’d imagine.’

‘And feeding his dog.’

‘You’ve been to his flat?’ Mum asked.

‘Oh yes. Don’t you trust me, Mum?’

‘I don’t think I have to,’ she said. ‘I know from experience you’d never do anything you didn’t want to do. Where are you off to now?’

‘Zak’s — to work on the film.’

‘Go — go, son, and live.’

‘Thanks. I will.’

Gabriel went to Zak’s to look at the picture. Sometimes he sat in front of it an hour at a time, studying his work. He couldn’t say the picture was finished but he knew he was so bored with it that he couldn’t see it any longer through his own eyes.

‘I think it’s done,’ he said at last. ‘I can’t do any more.’

Zak helped Gabriel carry it home. Gabriel needed Zak to be there when he showed it to Mum and Dad; he thought they might be less harsh and surprised in the presence of someone else.

Mum and Zak sat at the table talking while Gabriel prepared the picture. Mum had always liked Zak and loved to gossip with him, particularly about his peculiar family life, which she enjoyed comparing to her own.

Gabriel then went upstairs to his father, who was writing up one of his ‘cases’, as he called them. Gabriel had noticed that Dad liked to be called Dr Bunch by his new students. ‘Like “Count” Basie or Dr Feelgood?’ Gabriel had said. ‘I suppose so,’ replied Dad, sharply.

Gabriel said, ‘Dad, I want you to see something. A picture I’ve done. It’s not that great, but it’s OK. I like painting but I’d rather make films.’

‘That’s up to you,’ said Dad. ‘Whatever you want to do creatively is all right by me. What’s the picture of?’

‘Speedy.’

‘My friend Speedy?’

‘Yes.’

‘Where is it?’

Gabriel took his father to see it. Zak and Mum were standing there.

‘Here it is,’ said Gabriel.

Dad looked at it, taking his glasses off, putting them back on, and stepping closer and then backwards.

As Speedy would have liked to have been a star, Gabriel had done the picture in the shape of a wide-screen film frame. It was narrow, a blurred speedy squint or glimpse. In the background, even more blurred, was the busy diner, with footballers, rock stars and waiters rushing through. Lester’s picture was in the background, hanging on the wall.

‘Not too bad … eh?’ said Gabriel. ‘I wanted to get the motion of Speedy and of the place. Do you think —?’

‘Christine,’ said Dad. ‘Did you know about this?’

‘A little,’ said Mum. ‘I’m surprised by how much I like the picture. It’s great. That’s all that matters.’

‘Forget the picture,’ said Dad. ‘I’m not even thinking about that. What about this man … Speedy himself?’

‘You introduced him to Speedy,’ Mum said. ‘Isn’t that right?’

‘I did. I admit it,’ said Dad. ‘I’m happy to introduce him to anyone. I want him to experience the world. You don’t want him to turn out like those public school fools, do you?’