The repairmen had come that afternoon to service the faulty shutter in the master bedroom. Although they had other appointments to attend that day, the persuasive power of Alec’s pocket convinced them to inspect every security feature on the premises. They spoke to him as though he were odd or eccentric, sharing jokes at his expense. Their camaraderie wasn’t something that Alec could relate to, and the laughter between them seemed far too forthcoming to be genuine, he thought. Perhaps falsities were simply the social norm.

This was the only occasion that Alec could recall Lara donning a frown. Such were her reasons for doing so that it left him feeling quite flattered. She had obviously overheard the mechanics deriding her employer. Far from subtlety were these men born. They were the crass, mouth-breathing sort and the Italian blood must have simmered in her veins at the impertinence of it all.

Lara had subsequently checked each room by Alec’s request. She was the only person he enjoyed any regular contact with. He trusted her above all others because there were no others. Not that Lara was any the wiser, but upon Alec’s death she stood to inherit a handsome sum. A posthumous gesture of his appreciation as he could never truly find the right words to say in life.

The hallway was lined with lamplight. A dark green runner covered its length, leaving only the narrowest strip of mahogany on either side. There were no windows, paintings, or other ornamentation. Its only function – for Alec at least – was to access the stairs. These Lara swept each day and polished occasionally.

Upstairs, doors stretched down to the far wall; rooms that Alec had no use for. These included the bedroom once belonging to his parents, and his old nursery, windowless but well ventilated. His mother’s perfume still haunted the air where her dressing table – like all furniture – had been concealed for decades under white sheets. Its smell didn’t trigger any fond, nostalgic reminiscence. Instead, it caused Alec to pity his youthful past self, with all those idle years laid out before him, not quite understanding back then how or why his life was different.

His steps carried him quietly to his bedroom. Big houses never felt empty. They stored too many memories. He would often pause and listen, and hope – more than fancy – that he wasn’t alone. And then he would enter, closing the door quietly behind him.

Alec’s room was always well lit. Lamps occupied its four corners and his bedside cabinet. The fear instilled in him throughout his formative years had embedded in his psyche a terrible indisposition to the dark. The curtains had, as expected, been drawn. Behind them the shutters had automatically locked in place. Lara had left a glass of water by his bed and a single tablet to aid his sleeping. His pyjamas were neatly folded atop his pillow. It was always the same.