Desolation Read Free Page A

should get you to your room first,” Peter said, glancing at Flat Three, at Cain, then back at the door.
    I’m too tired for this
, Cain thought,
too confused, too overawed. I need to sit in my new home and take out my book and read
. He had read
The Glamour
a dozen times already, but he never tired of it, always found new messages hidden between chapters, beneath lines, behind paragraphs of exquisite prose and mysterious metaphor. On the surface the book was about invisibility, and Cain could relate. He felt so unseen by the world.
    â€œYes, maybe that is best,” Cain agreed. He moved past Peter and headed up the flight of stairs to his attic room.
    â€œOh!” Peter uttered behind him, but Cain had taken the lead. He reached a small landing with two doors leading off, one marked “Flat Five,” the other bearing only long, deep scratches for its entire height, as if something large and fearsome had tried to get through. Unnerved, he waited for the landlord to reach him.
    â€œFlat Five,” Peter said as he reached the landing, panting with the effort of hauling the chest. “Cain! Not such an odd fellow, perhaps.” He laughed again as he took out a key and unlocked the door, dragging the chest through. He looked at it as if it could contain proof of all the lies he had so recently uttered.
    Cain stood on the threshold for a few moments, unsure of what was about to happen. Was his life really starting afresh? Were all the bad times behind him? Would those memories—those torturous dreams of being hurt and alone—ever fade away to give him the peace he craved? He felt the lump of the pill bottle in his jacket pocket, and rememberedthe Voice’s secret smile as it had pressed them into his palm.
Avoidance
, Cain thought.
I can go on avoiding the truth forever. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t always there, just as my father is always there. He hurt me, but he loved me. That’s what the Face and Voice said. I have to come to terms with the fact that he simply didn’t know what love was
.
    â€œNice views,” he heard Peter say from somewhere in the flat. Cain stared down at the chest where it sat just inside the door.
I’m in there already
, he thought.
I beat myself in
.
    â€œYou can see the cathedral to the east, and north are the mountains outside the city. Wintertime, you can see snow on them from here.”
    â€œThis is my new home,” Cain whispered, not loud enough for Peter to hear. “I can do what I want in here.” He leaned through the door without setting foot inside, and rested his right hand on the chest. The wood felt warm, but that must have been the weather. “And I’ll never be alone again.”
    â€œCain?” Peter said, emerging from a room on the left. “You need a hand?”
    Cain forced a smile, and then surprised himself by realizing that force was not required. “Please,” he said. “I don’t have much stuff, but sometimes it’s heavy.”
    â€œNo problem.” Peter lifted one end of the chest and dragged it through the hallway. “I’ll put this in the living room.”
    Cain entered his new home and closed the door behind him.
    The hallway was large and bright, lit by a rooflight. It was painted entirely white, and hung with contrasting black and gray landscape paintings, surreal, beautiful scenes of dead trees reaching ragged fingers for the viewer. The floor was a pale timber, scored here and there with deep scratches. Three doors led off from the hallway, and Cain was stunned at the scope of his new home. At Afresh he had lived in one room—bed, settee, books, small bathroom leading off to one side. Here, faced with three doors, he felt a sudden rush of panic. What if he got lost?
    The second door on his left swung inward again and Peter peered out. “Like it?”
    Cain could not speak. His throat felt hot and hard, and he was afraid that if he opened