A massive unknown space, the only thing that existed would be the completion of his obsession; he would have carried out his task. So maybe keep the lease and let it run its course. One more week, pay up till then, and move his stuff out when he wanted. Otherwise all the convenient closures at once might lead to a connection. The only connection that he could think of, that could lead back to him, would be the gun, but it was a Glock – with Glock ammunition – so to trace it back to him would be an endless million-million-fold task.

Forget that.

Don’t think, don’t add that to the list.

He was getting no response on his FaceTime audio from Clarissa and didn’t try again.

He wasn’t perhaps in the most coherent frame of mind to speak to them. But what did he do now, in the immediate future, in the absolute happening now, in Lomita’s house? How did he get out, was he well enough or would he sink back into the deep?

His questions were answered by Lomita in her wheelchair, knocking on his door and without waiting for a response, opening it and asking if he had organised what she had asked regarding the gallery.

He nodded the confirmation, and then she dictated the next action. That they should go to his apartment, he was not going alone, she insisted on that, to get his gun, and he should come back here and stay until he had had a few days after his doctor’s visit so his recovery could be monitored. She of course was still under the belief it was a visit to deal with his emotional condition. That was information: this was a surprise.

‘I feel, and I have given it thought, so hear me out, that you should not consider it your position now to sleep in my room. If that is OK with you. I really need some time to deal, if that’s the right way of putting it, with what has happened. This is not a negative response, it’s just a request for a lull in the middle of this storm.’

‘That sounds fine with me,’

Ever said, completing her speech without a pause. Relieved but he didn’t expect her to be the one to voice it.

‘F-i-ne.’

There was a suggestion of disappointment that there was no objection. The ‘i’ was stretched in reflection.

‘Give me thirty minutes and we’ll go. Good?’

He nodded and she did a U-turn: a slick, well-practised manoeuvre.

She was, in her understanding of the situation, way ahead of him. I guess, thought Ever, she is mature.

But he always seemed to have to wait for her.