‘Should I draw the curtains, Mum?’
‘Leave them, won’t you? I love seeing the dusk. Darling, I had a letter from the Tate Gallery. They want to organise an exhibition about Granny, probably a small documentary exhibition. She’d have hated the idea of a documentary exhibition. . . They want to know whether we have any paintings.’ They both laugh. ‘And documents, letters, that kind of thing.’
‘And?’
‘I haven’t answered. Daddy says we should be very careful.’
‘He would. I think we should be very uncareful. How many paintings will they show, did they say?’
‘The letter was rather vague. She said she’d like to come and see me, a woman called Alice Johnstone. Should I say yes?’
‘I know her, she was at the Central with me. Can I be here when she comes?’
Dorothea looks non-committal, opens another photograph album. ‘This is Aunt Sophia when she was young. Pretty. She looks angry, don’t you think? Poor Sophia, she never could make up her mind, not till she made her big decision. Rather like you, only there’s no sign of a big decision for you, is there darling?’
Pandora tries not to look irritated. ‘I think it’s best to see how one develops.’ They both frown. ‘Granny always seems to have known what she wanted to do. Oh I did love visiting her in her studio.’
‘More fun than staying at home with your mother.’ Dorothea takes more photographs out of the envelope. ‘So here we are, Irene in Berlin in 1914.’
Pandora looks at her mother. ‘Have you been through all these boxes already?’
‘Possibly. After all, they are my boxes.’