Daniel is Elisabeth’s mentor, a 101-year-old songwriter and the emotional anchor of the story. A round character, his presence is defined by a rich inner life that contrasts sharply with his physical state in a care home. Much of his character is revealed through his vivid, non-linear dreams and memories, which transport him to different eras of his life, from the 1940s to the 1960s. These internal sequences are the novel’s primary vehicle for exploring The Fluidity of Time and Memory, presenting the past as a living, breathing part of the present. Daniel’s consciousness drifts between his current state of near-death and moments of intense, youthful experience, blurring the lines between what is, what was, and what is imagined.

As a mentor for Elisabeth, Daniel is a keeper of stories and a purveyor of alternative histories. He’s the source of the novel’s knowledge about Pauline Boty, whose vivid art he champions as an essential, joyful force. His personal memories of his sister, of witnessing injustices in the courtroom during the Profumo Affair, and of the rising threat of fascism in his youth provide a historical depth and a humane counternarrative to the simplistic, divisive rhetoric of the present. He teaches Elisabeth that stories are a means of creating the world, an idea that empowers her to challenge the dominant, pessimistic narrative of her time. His playful games, like Bagatelle, are lessons in creativity and empathy, encouraging Elisabeth to imagine different outcomes and grant even the most seemingly powerless characters a choice.

Despite the hardships he has witnessed and his current physical changes, Daniel’s defining qualities are his wit, gentleness, and lasting hope. His love of wordplay and puns is an embodiment of his philosophical stance, a way of finding flexibility and new meaning in a world that often appears rigid and bleak. He tells Elisabeth that his name means that he’s “lucky and happy” and that he will survive being thrown into a pit of lions (51), a description that encapsulates his resilient and optimistic spirit. Through his kindness and his unwavering belief in the power of art and human connection, Daniel shows a form of humanism and decency that stands in stark opposition to the anger and cynicism of the novel’s contemporary setting.

Wendy is a significant supporting character who undergoes a notable transformation, developing from a cynical and somewhat detached figure into a passionate activist. Initially, her relationship with Elisabeth is strained; she expresses a weary exasperation with her daughter’s life choices and her deep attachment to Daniel. Wendy’s perspective often shows a more conventional, pragmatic worldview. She’s suspicious of Daniel’s influence and views his friendship with her young daughter as “unnatural.” Her early interactions are marked by a sense of resignation and a tendency toward melodrama, complaining that no one in her village speaks to her. Evidently, she feels disconnected from the world around her.

The political turmoil following the Brexit referendum acts as a catalyst for her change. Her initial response is one of exhaustion and despair, as she tells Elisabeth, “I’m tired of the news. I’m tired of the way it makes things spectacular that aren’t, and deals so simplistically with what’s truly appalling” (56). However, this fatigue evolves into righteous anger. Her budding romance with Zoe further fuels this change, providing her with solidarity and joy. Wendy’s arc culminates in an act of direct protest when she throws a barometer at the new security fence, shorting its electrical circuit and getting herself arrested. This moment marks her transition from passive discontent to active rebellion, as she finds a new purpose in bombarding the symbols of division with “the artefacts of less cruel and more philanthropic times” (255). Her journey shows that political awakening and personal renewal are possible at any age.

Boty is a real-life historical figure who is a central symbolic presence in the novel, embodying the theme of Art as a Subversive Record. Though she’s deceased and never appears as a character in the present day, her art, life, and spirit are resurrected through Daniel’s memories and Elisabeth’s doctoral research. As the only female British pop artist to contribute to the founding of the movement, her relative obscurity in the official, male-dominated art historical canon represents the systemic erasure of female creativity and alternative perspectives. Elisabeth’s fight to have her work recognized by her university tutor is a microcosm of the larger struggle to reclaim forgotten and marginalized histories.

Boty’s art itself is portrayed as a vivid, joyful, and politically potent force. Daniel’s descriptions and Elisabeth’s analysis reveal work that is sensual, witty, and critical of the establishment. Her paintings and collages, such as Scandal 63 and It’s a Man’s World I & II, re-contextualize public events and media images, offering a distinctly female perspective on a world shaped by men. The energy of her work, which Elisabeth believes can blast “the tragic stuff that happens to us all into space” (239), is a powerful antidote to the bleakness and cynicism of 2016. Boty represents the lasting power of art to create joy, critique power, and preserve a more humane and complex version of history.