They moved the mirror in the morning, before there was anyone in the studio to see how awkwardly they did it.
Beth took the end with the feet. Claire took the upper frame, keeping her hands away from the glass. It was heavier than either expected. They lifted, stopped, and set it down on the carpet again.
“Maris must have had strong opinions about her reflection,” Beth said.
Claire tried to smile. She was looking at Beth's right hand wrapped around the frame.
“Stop watching my fingers.”
“I'm not.”
“You're doing it like a hungry cat.”
They tried again, tipping the frame a little to negotiate the cutting table. This time they got it as far as the opposite wall, well away from the fitting corner and clear of the side-door route. Beth adjusted its feet until it stood without rocking. Claire moved a small stack of boxes out of the space around it.
From here, the mirror showed the front of the room instead of the work area. It made everything look rearranged, though only one object had moved. Beth stood in front of it and lifted both hands, wiggling her fingers.
“There.”
“Don't.”
Beth lowered them. “Sorry.”
Claire hadn't wanted an apology. She wanted the laugh back. She was afraid it might be the last ordinary thing Beth did before the image happened, and the fear was making every movement large.
They cleared the side exit. Beth pulled a bin away from the outside wall, checked the door opened fully, and took the trolley into the yard to give the fitting room more space. She opened the gate wide enough to let Evan bring his car near the side path, then closed it again with the chain left loose. Practical things. Claire helped, grateful for work that did not require saying what she pictured.
At eleven Beth had another fitting. Claire remained with Vivian at the back table while the client tried two lengths of sleeve. Vivian drew a new cuff on a scrap of paper, then turned it facedown when the client glanced over. She was trying not to become someone Beth had to hide.
After the client left, she said, “I could go back for the cases. It would be easier.”
Beth put the appointment book away. “You could. Do you want to?”
“I don't want him here.”
“That wasn't the question.”
Vivian looked at the front window. “No.”
Claire told them she had shown Graham the image.
Beth turned sharply. “When?”
“Last night.”
“Why?”
“So he wouldn't force his way in.”
“Did you think of asking me?”
“I thought it would make him careful.”
Vivian studied her. “What did he say?”
Claire repeated what she could remember, leaving out nothing she had deliberately said. Vivian's mouth tightened at Graham's insistence that she needed space.
“He thinks space is something he can give me and then take back,” she said.
Beth looked at Claire for a long moment. “Next time tell me before you send a picture of me bleeding to someone.”
“Yes.”
“I mean it.”
“I heard you.”
They ate sandwiches made at Beth's flat. Vivian had sliced the cheese so thick it fell out of the bread, and Beth told her she wasn't funding another collection with the sandwich budget. Vivian laughed. Claire laughed too, relieved enough that it felt excessive.
Evan arrived a little before three. He did not come through the front door. Claire found him outside by the side path, checking whether there was room to turn the car without driving close to the stair. His eye was darker today, the dressing smaller.
“You're early,” she said.
“I didn't want to be late.”
“Thank you.”
He looked through the open side door. “They ready?”
“As much as they can be.”
“Where's the mirror?”
“Across the room.”
He nodded. Claire wanted him to say it was enough. He didn't know that any more than she did.
Graham came in carrying a case in each hand. He had shaved and wore the sort of blue shirt that made people say he looked well. He set the cases down beside the front door, then went back to the van for the sample box.
“You didn't need to do all this,” he said to Beth on his return.
“You agreed to bring them.”
“I mean the arrangement. I'd have dropped them at the flat.”
He looked at Vivian, inviting her to agree that the whole business was a little formal. She had risen from her chair but remained beside it.
“Thank you for bringing them,” she said.
“Of course.”
He put the box on the table. The fabrics inside were packed in tissue. He opened the lid and drew out a little roll of dark blue printed with pale wandering lines.
“This came yesterday. I thought you'd want to see.”
Vivian stepped forward before she could stop herself. She touched the roll with one finger.
“That's the wrong weight,” she said.
“Is it?”
“For the coat.”
“We can change it.”
The ease of we entered the room. Claire felt its pull, the beautiful kitchen, the suppliers, problems large enough to be solved by making one call.
Vivian took the roll from him and set it back in the box.
“I'll talk to them.”
“We can go together.”
“Not today.”
Graham smiled. “No one's making you do anything today.”
Beth moved toward the cases. “I'll put these by the other door.”
His head turned. “Why?”
“Because we're leaving that way.”
“To go where?”
“My flat.”
“My van's at the front.”
Vivian said, “I have a lift.”
The smile remained on Graham's face for a moment after its use had ended. He looked past Beth toward the side entrance.
“With who?”
Claire stood. “The cases are heavy.”
“I brought them. I know what they weigh.”
“Graham,” Vivian said. “I don't want to come back with you.”
He looked at her, ignoring the others. “You don't have to decide anything now.”
“I've decided where I'm going today.”
“Then I'll take you there.”
“No.”
It was the first unsoftened no Claire had heard from her. Graham set the lid on the sample box, very carefully, aligning the corners.
“We're married, Viv.”
“I know.”
“We're allowed to speak to each other.”
“We've spoken.”
“With an audience.”
Beth had one case in her hand. She set it down near the side doorway. Graham moved toward her and stopped when Vivian moved away from him.
“Don't make this ugly,” he said.
She stood between the table and the side exit. “I'm going.”
He took two steps. Beth came between them, one hand up, not touching him.
“Let her.”
He pushed past her.
It happened faster than Claire had pictured it happening. Beth stumbled sideways, caught herself against the back of a chair, and Graham's shoulder struck the mirror frame as he turned toward Vivian. The top of it rocked. For a second the feet seemed to hold. Then the whole tall shape tipped outward.
Claire grabbed Beth's sleeve and pulled her toward the table.
The mirror hit the floor.
The breaking sound filled the room. A corner split, the wood cracked, and the glass made a long diagonal line before collapsing into smaller pieces. Claire had her hand around Beth's forearm, too hard. Beth stared at the place where she had been standing.
Her right hand was free.
Graham looked down. His face had gone slack with surprise. Then he looked at the broken corner, the crescent chip still visible on the upper frame, the angle of the crack.
“That's—”
He turned to Claire.
She didn't let him finish. “Go,” she said to Vivian.
Beth pulled free of Claire's grip and reached for her friend's arm. Vivian seized the sample box. They went through the side door together, leaving both cases for a moment, then Beth returned far enough to pull one across the threshold.
Graham made a movement after them and stopped at the glass. He looked at the mirror again. The look had more fear in it than the one he gave Claire.
She stood in the space between him and the door. She was not large enough to stop him if he chose to push. She knew that now in a way she hadn't known outside his house.
“She's going,” she said.
Outside, a car door shut. Evan said something to Beth. Claire heard the second case scrape over the paving.
Graham looked toward the sound. “Is that him?”
“It's a lift.”
“You've arranged all of this.”
“We moved a mirror.”
He looked at the glass beneath his feet. His hands had opened, fingers spread, as if he needed to know he wasn't holding anything.
“How did you get that picture?”
She didn't answer.
He took out his phone and opened what she had sent him. Claire could see its pale glow against his palm, though not the image. He looked from it to the floor, then toward the side door where Beth had stood.
“Her hand,” he said.
“Isn't under it.”
The car engine started.
Graham moved around the fallen frame, keeping clear of the shards, and went to the side entrance. By the time he reached it, the car was pulling away from the yard gate. Vivian was in the passenger seat, Beth in the back with the sample box on her knees.
She looked out at Claire. Her mouth was open. Claire lifted a hand, and Beth lifted her uninjured one in answer.
Graham stood in the doorway until the car had gone.
“You think this helps her,” he said.
“You pushed Beth.”
He turned. “I didn't mean—”
“You pushed her.”
For a moment Claire expected him to come toward her. Instead he looked past her into the studio, as if the broken mirror had made the room unfamiliar.
“Tell her to call me.”
“She has a phone.”
He went out through the front. She waited until she heard the van start and leave. Then she crossed to the side door, pushed it shut, and sat on the floor with her back against it.
She didn't cry. She couldn't stop smiling, which frightened her nearly as much as the sound of the glass had.
Beth called a minute later.
“We got out,” she said.
“I saw.”
“My hand's all right.”
“I saw.”
Beth laughed then, breathlessly. “You can stop saying it.”
Claire put her forehead against her knees. She was laughing too. It wasn't a pleasant sound, but she could feel something opening in her chest, giving her room.
“We did it,” Beth said.
They had. The picture hadn't become the whole afternoon. They had moved something and made something else possible.
“I'm buying Maris a mirror,” Claire said.
“I'll tell her you offered.”
“Don't tell her what broke it until I'm standing where she can't throw anything.”
Beth laughed again and said she would come back later to help clean up. Claire told her to eat first, and this time it was an offer without an instruction inside it.
When she stood, she saw a small yellow thread on the floor beyond the broken glass. From Ruth's dress, perhaps. She left it until she could find the broom.