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Chapters (45)
  1. The Man With No Face
  2. Also by
  3. Title
  4. Copyright
  5. Dedication
  6. Epigraph
  7. Contents
  8. INTRODUCTION
  9. CHAPTER ONE
  10. CHAPTER TWO
  11. CHAPTER THREE
  12. CHAPTER FOUR
  13. CHAPTER FIVE
  14. CHAPTER SIX
  15. CHAPTER SEVEN
  16. CHAPTER EIGHT
  17. CHAPTER NINE
  18. CHAPTER TEN
  19. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  20. CHAPTER TWELVE
  21. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  22. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  23. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  24. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  25. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  26. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  27. CHAPTER NINETEEN
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  31. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  32. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  33. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  34. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  35. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  36. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  37. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  38. CHAPTER THIRTY
  39. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  40. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
  41. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
  42. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
  43. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
  44. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
  45. CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Each flight of stairs, each landing, was depressingly familiar. He had never wanted to be here in the first place. And it was a long climb for weary limbs.

He almost didn’t see her huddled in the corner opposite to the door. It was only the slightest sound that made him turn as he was slipping the key in the lock. Her eyes were open and staring up at him. There was no hint of recognition, nothing. He opened the door and slid his bag inside and crossed the landing to crouch beside her. The face was drained of colour, dark eyes ringed and sunk deep in her head. He lifted one of her limp hands and was shocked by its coldness. ‘My God!’ The words came in a breath like mist in the lamplight.

Very carefully he lifted her in his arms and carried her across the landing and into the house. He kicked the door shut and staggered through the half-light in the hall and into the living room. He laid her gently on the settee and lit the fire before switching on a small table lamp and drawing the curtains. Her breathing seemed shallow. He sat on the settee beside her and unbuttoned her coat. All the time her eyes never left him. He took each of her hands in turn and rubbed them briskly between his.

‘I’ll get a doctor,’ he said. But in her first response since he had found her, her hand clutched at his sleeve and she shook her head. ‘You need a doctor,’ he said firmly. She shook her head again and he saw that look in her eyes that he had seen before.

He sighed and thought about it.

‘Have you eaten?’ Again she shook her head. ‘All right, I’ll give you some hot milk to start with. Will that be okay?’ This time she nodded and he thought he saw a tiny smile on her lips.

He was anxious and confused and again stricken by the uncertainty that this child produced in him. He knew he should get a doctor, but understood that she would not have it. At least not right away. He pushed the coffee table aside and dragged the settee nearer the fire. ‘I’ll heat your milk.’

In the hall he gathered the bag where he had dropped it by the door, and took it into the kitchen. He found a saucepan in a cupboard, poured some milk from the carton and placed the pan on a high gas. Perhaps she should have a hot bath. The worst was not knowing the right thing to do. When it was just you, you didn’t care too much. You mistreated yourself. You did all the wrong things. You drank, you ignored your doctor’s orders. But when it came to someone else, you felt a responsibility that you never felt for yourself.