T he door is opened by a servant. Aster steps into the ante hall; her eyes catch a velvet-covered chair deep red. Somewhere the sound of water: the fountain in the garden. She stops takes a breath straightens her back.
Papa’s words come to her: All this can be put right.
She steps forward following the voices.
Papa.
The rumble of Mose ben Isaac.
Jocef’s clear tones.
Quiet.
At the door of the study she hesitates. Her fingers tremble as she lifts them to the door pushes it open. The three men stand there shoulder to shoulder. A circle.
She clasps her hands together to still her fingers but the fear only moves upward through her body and she must hold her shoulders stiff and her back rigid to conceal her shaking. The air is heavy. She reads the men’s faces. In Papa she sees resolve the sense of doing his duty. Mose’s face is a moving sky of dark cloud. Jocef looks stricken.
