Adam watches the police car disappear down the mountain road.
That night Adam can’t sleep. He tosses, irritable. Everything seems flat and tiring without Leaf. But he will be back tomorrow. Adam can’t get Officer Lloyd out of his mind. The encounter bothers him more the more he thinks about it. He fingers the card with Lloyd’s number on it, turning it over in his hands.
Adam lifts his head at a faint sound. At first he thinks he’s imagining it, but it draws nearer. It is a car engine. Maybe it’s staff driving home or something, he tells himself. But surely they would all be gone by this hour. The engine comes closer and he’s sure – someone is driving up to the door of Nowhere. Leaf must be back early. Adam gets out of bed. He can’t find shoes and he doesn’t care but then he stubs his toe on the side table and hops in agony for a moment or two. He can hear the car pulling up. Adam tosses his clothes here and there (he does not open the closet, he does not go near the mirror-men). Adam hears the vast front door creaking – it’s so loud, audible even on the third floor. He finds sneakers, shoves them on his bare feet and runs down the grand staircase.
The hall is quiet. The alarm console flickers green on the wall. It is disarmed. Adam peers out of the window. He can’t see a car, but Leaf may have parked round back. Somehow Adam has missed him. He runs up to the master suite on the second floor. Leaf will be there, unpacking. He likes to deal with his own clothes.
Adam opens the door to Leaf’s room, eager. The lights are off so he flicks the switch. Everything is cool and white and beautiful; the linen canopy on the four-poster bed flutters in the gust from the opening door. The room is empty. The door to the palatial bathroom is open. He looks at the pristine room for a moment then shakes his head, turns the light off and leaves.
Adam searches Nowhere House, wandering like a ghost. Maybe Leaf fell asleep somewhere. Maybe he’s in the den. Maybe the gleaming steel kitchen. Maybe he’s gone out on the porch to smoke. Butthese places are untenanted. The rooms are all dark. Leaf insists that all lights are turned off at night. He is very environmentally conscious.
Adam paces to and fro before the fireplace in the hall. The dead antlers cast shadows on the walls. He’s worried that there has been a burglar or a home invasion.
Adam notices a faint glow. It’s from the hallway which leads to the long sunroom. Adam goes to the hallway. It is empty. The dimmer is on low, soft uplighting leading away into the house. None of Leaf’s staff would forget to turn off these lights.
Adam goes down the hall, heart beating in his throat. The sunroom is dimly lit, too. It is also empty. Adam walks around it three times, looking for a hidden intruder. But there is no one. Eventually he turns the light off. He goes back to bed.
Adam is finishing his breakfast on the terrace when he hears the front door creak. He throws his napkin down.
Leaf is standing in the hall. He looks up and sees Adam. They run to each other and hold tight.
‘There was a police officer at the gate,’ Adam begins.
‘Ross told me.’ Leaf runs a hand through his hair. He looks tired. ‘He probably just wanted to look around. Maybe he wanted an autograph.’
‘It didn’t seem like that,’ Adam says.
Leaf smiles, a little grim. ‘He left when I found out I wasn’t here, didn’t he?’
‘He was asking about Rick.’
‘People will use any excuse.’
Adam feels a surge of guilt. Leaf is always being watched. He understands why Leaf wants the secret staircase. With all these eyes on him all the time, who wouldn’t want a private place where he can be quiet and watch in turn?
They walk among the apple trees. Leaf likes to say hello to Nowhere when he’s been away. It’s good to be outside in the sunshine. The air is full of the scent of green and growing things. Leaf bends to stroke the grass. ‘She’s happy today.’
Adam smiles. He likes Leaf’s insistence that Nowhere is a person.
‘How did you two meet?’ he asks. ‘You and Rick.’
‘Through the Foundation,’ Leaf says.
‘He worked for you?’ Adam asks.
‘No. We helped him.’
‘So he’s – homeless?’
‘He was,’ Leaf says. ‘We got him back on his feet.’
‘Isn’t that a little weird?’
‘What?’
‘You have—’ Adam waves his hand around him, taking in Nowhere, the peaks, the valley, the house of warm wood and gleaming glass. ‘All this. He doesn’t have anything. You know what I mean?’
‘I don’t,’ Leaf says. ‘Explain it to me.’ His eyes are warm and his tone is level. But Adam suddenly feels cold. He can’t say why.
