Page 100 of No Man's Land

“How did you get in?” Alex growled. “I said no visitors.”

“The usual way—I bribed the doorman. And since Iamhere, can I come in?”

“No.” He wasn’t looking at Josef, gaze lowered, half hidden by his too-long hair. “I don’t want to see you.” He started to shut the door, but Josef got his foot in the way.

“I want to see you,” he said. “I want to see how you are, that’s all. You look…” He studied Alex’s eyes, all trace of the ghoulish blue gone, although somehow still haunted. “You look yourself again, more or less.”

Alex laughed; the sound raised the hairs on Josef’s scalp. “More or less, yes.” His expression darkened further. “There, you’ve seen how I am. Now you can go. I’m not fit for—”

“Company? Yes, Lottie told me you’d say that.”

“She—? You’ve spoken to her?”

“Only way to find out if you were still alive, wasn’t it? Look, are you going to let me in? You look like you’re about to fall over.”

“I’m fine,” Alex grumbled, but he turned away from the door, leaving it open as he hobbled back into the flat, and so Josef followed.

The rooms were much as Josef remembered. That was no real surprise because it had been months, not years, since his last visit in those desperate hours after Alex had been bitten. Whatwasa shock was the state of the place. The curtains were mostly closed, plunging the flat into gloomy half-light, and there was clutter everywhere: unwashed plates and cups stacked on the sideboard, discarded bits of clothing on the chairs, disarrayed newspapers and books splayed open on the floor. If Alex employed a maid, she hadn’t been in for a long time.

Alex didn’t seem to notice any of it, limping slowly through the chaos towards the cold, unlit fireplace. He turned, awkward with his stick, and lowered himself into one of the armchairs. A table stood next to it, a plate with an untouched slice of buttered bread, curling at the corners, sitting atop a pile of books.

Josef observed all this as he took the settee opposite Alex, pushing aside a sweater and cardigan to make room. “I tried to see you,” he said. “I went to Belgrave Square five times, but they turned me away. Said you weren’t accepting visitors.”

“I wasn’t.” Alex rested his gaze on the floor between them. “I’m not.”

“And yet here I am.”

A flicker of Alex’s gaze touched Josef’s. “You never did know what was good for you.”

Josef smiled slightly, but didn’t argue. Dutta had been right. Alex wasn’t the man he had been, but he wasn’t the monster Josef had feared. He was in a hole, though, no doubt about that. Glancing around the room, Josef said, “Shall I open the curtains? It’s gloomy in here.”

“I don’t need you to wait on me.”

“Good, because I’ve no intention of waiting on you, or anyone else.”

He went to the window to pull back the curtain, but Alex snapped, “Don’t!” Startled, Josef turned around to find Alex scowling at him. “It’s too bright. My eyes…” He gestured towards his face. “Sensitive to daylight.”

Josef swallowed, letting his hand fall from the curtain; he didn’t need to be told why. “I see. How about a lamp, then? Is that easier?”

Alex was still scowling, but after a moment, he nodded. “If you like. I don’t need it.”

There were two elegant gas lamps on the mantelpiece, so Josef found the matches and lit them. He kept the gas low, one eye on Alex to see how he reacted to the light, but he didn’t flinch or shade his eyes. Just daylight that bothered him, then.

He wondered whether this was something that would improve, or remain a permanent legacy of Alex’s infection by the ghoul. He wondered whether it was the only legacy. And he didn’t dare ask either question. Instead, he sat back down on the settee and said, “How’s the leg? It was a bad break, but I’ve seen worse.”

“I’m sure you have.” Alex gave him another of those flickering looks and added, gruffly, “There was an infection in the bone, but it’s healing now. They say I’ll always need the stick.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t lose the leg.”

Alex grunted; he didn’t sound grateful. “I’d have rather lost the leg than—” He clamped his jaw on that thought and said, briskly, “Well, you’ve done your duty. Thank you for your visit. You’ll excuse me for not showing you out.”

Ignoring that, Josef said, “It’s bloody cold in here. Why don’t you have the fire lit?”

“I don’t need it. Anyway, I can’t…” He waved at his injured leg.

“What happened to your maid?” Josef said, rising.

“I don’t need a maid.”

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