A flat-screen television had been set at the far wall facing his desk; a needless addition that Alec oft considered removing. Any news from the world outside was sourced from the broadsheet that Lara delivered to him each day. Other popular programmes and feature lengths were of no interest to him. Alec felt an envious disconnect with their characters and dialogue. Even those dramatic pieces mimicking real life were too fictive and implausible to be enjoyed, leaving him feeling all the more alienated.

His laptop lived on the desk adjacent to the wall of book spines, where towers of documents and historical papers had grown around it like a fragile city. The tablet he had purchased on an inquisitive whim was discarded the day it arrived. It was too sleek, and its inner workings far too baffling. And though he thought its female voice to be quite mellifluous at first, the spell was quickly broken when she requested to know his location. That wasn’t information Alec shared without good reason for doing so.

Wooden speakers were set discreetly in the study’s four corners. Musically speaking, the man’s taste in the classical suited the ambience of the room. His interest was, however, entirely superficial. The music would play at a humble volume and he would hear it, caring nothing for the composer’s identity or the key to the piece. Music was a distraction, no more. And Alec could happily live without it so long as the flaming timbers cracked.

The study’s every aspect was warm and comforting, like a candle in a crimson room. Lighting was soft and a glossed mahogany prevailed throughout its fixtures and fittings. The shutters were hidden behind heavy burgundy curtains. Their lustre had faded over the years, but they were far too tall and too many to merit replacement. The framed artwork adorning the walls had not been changed since before Alec was born, and so he neither saw nor appreciated them, but they filled the blank spaces.

The clock chimed nine times, ringing in the hour. Lara would leave once his bedroom had been prepared and the windows inspected. The crackle of logs on the fire would then constitute his only company: the welcome delusions of a lonely man. He would sit for another hour before retiring.

A gentle knock came from the door, audible only to the expectant ear. Lara entered, closing it behind her. Alec turned in his chair to bid her a good night, as was customary, but knew from the lost expression on her face that something was awry. Any digression from the norm was overtly conspicuous in Alec’s life.

‘I’m afraid we have a problem, Doctor,’ she said, her voice like that of a child.

He had asked Lara countless times to call him Alec but her mother wouldn’t allow it. With a frown and a nod, he urged her to explain.