Mr. Bobo (v3)

She could hardly see the old man through the mist.

He walked down the steps on the outside of the house that led up past Coraline’s front door to the door of his flat. He walked down very slowly. Coraline waited at the bottom of the stairs.

“The mice do not like the mist,” he told her. “It makes their whiskers droop.”

“I don’t like the mist much, either,” admitted Coraline.

Mr. Bobo (v2)

Perhaps like this?

Mr. Bobo (v1)

Here is a first pass at a portrait of Mr. Bobo, the mysterious and eccentric old man who lives in the flat above Coraline. Here is what Ms. Spinks has to say about him:

“Fine old circus family, I believe. Romanian or Slovenian or Livonian, or one of those countries."

He had his back to her

 

He had his back to her, but she knew, just on seeing him, that his eyes, when he turned around, would be her father’s kind grey eyes, and she crept over and kissed him on the back of his balding head.
    “Hullo, Coraline,” he said. Then he looked around and smiled at her. “What was that for?”
    “Nothing.” said Coraline. “I just miss you sometimes, that’s all.”
    “Oh good,” he said. He put the computer to sleep, stood up, and then for no reason at all, he picked Coraline up, which he had not done for such a long time, not since he had started pointing out to her she was much too old to be carried, and he carried her out to the kitchen.

Coraline was disgusted.

"Daddy," she said, "you've made a recipe again."
"It's leek and potato stew with a tarragon garnish and melted Gruyere cheese," he admitted.