Episode 20 · The Door That Wasn't There

Maxim stopped beside the chair with the empty bottle in his hand.

Krista looked up. Varren drew his hand back from the paper. The kitchen had gone quiet enough for Soles to hear water dripping into the sink on his right.

He looked at the bottle.

— In the fridge, he said. Sorry. I thought you still had something to add.

Maxim remained where he was for a moment, then went to get the water.

Soles loosened his hand on the chair. The wood was ordinary again, a hard edge with a chip he had meant to smooth before anyone caught a sleeve on it. The broad, warm arm of the king’s seat had gone.

He remembered wanting Maxim to stay. More than that: he had expected his cousin to need permission to leave.

Maxim put the bottle down beside him.

— You all right?

— Yes.

Soles heard how quickly he had answered.

— Something felt strange, he added. Just then.

Maxim glanced toward Varren, who was watching from the other side of the table.

— Your chest?

— No. I don’t know yet.

Krista moved her phone into the middle of the table.

— Shall we finish this another time?

He wanted the evening to continue without anyone looking at him as they had in the ambulance. The wish was strong enough to make another easy answer tempting.

— We can finish the message. Then I’m done with questions for tonight.

She read the draft aloud, seated on his right. They wanted to speak with Serren about Kerr, the recommendation and the conditions attached to his admission. She named Soles and said they would both attend.

No borrowed exhibition request. No invented reason for going through the offices.

— That’s what I want to ask, Soles said.

Krista sent it. The choice felt less satisfying than imagining himself walking out with the missing page. It also left her able to look at her own name on the request without having to explain it to him.

Maxim gathered the dessert plates. He paused over the box.

— Is anyone still responsible for this?

— Take it, Krista said. If it comes home with me, I’ll finish it.

He put the last piece on a napkin and carried it to the counter.

— A restrained decision, Varren said.

— I’m saving myself from standing up again.

Soles laughed. This time the sound came without the strange certainty that everyone was waiting for him.

When Krista gathered her things, he walked her to the gate. Maxim stayed in the kitchen with Varren, arguing over which container could go in the fridge without first being emptied into another container.

Outside, the street had cooled. Krista put on her coat while Soles lifted the latch.

— Did you manage to eat? he asked.

— You were beside me.

— I meant before I put you to work again.

She looked back toward the kitchen window.

— I did. For a while I forgot why we’d arranged it.

— So did I.

He had a question about Serren ready. Instead, he asked whether she had found a place for the flood photograph’s caption.

— Under the photograph. Revolutionary, I know.

— I meant without upsetting your sponsor.

— He’s now mentioned in the introduction. More words, smaller type. Everyone survived.

She smiled and promised to let him know when Serren replied. Soles let her go without asking her to check her phone first.

Inside, he helped dry the glasses while Varren washed them. Maxim carried the trash out and returned for the piece of dessert he had left on the counter.

Soles stopped drying a glass.

— Earlier. When I said to stay. Why did you?

Maxim looked at him.

— I thought I’d missed something.

— Like what?

— Like I was leaving before I was supposed to. Then you said where the water was, and it seemed stupid.

Soles put the glass down carefully.

— It wasn’t stupid.

— You asked me to stay. I stayed. What’s going on?

He could have called it nothing and ended the conversation.

— I don’t know enough to explain it yet. I will tell you when I do.

Maxim waited, then nodded toward the stairs.

— Upstairs, he said, holding it up before Soles could ask. No expedition involved.

He went to the spare room, leaving the door open for Lucky.

Varren turned off the water.

— You wanted to search the offices earlier.

— I wanted something that felt quicker.

— And now?

Soles looked at the sheet of questions.

— I want to hear what Serren says before I decide what he’s hiding.

Varren nodded. He dried his hands, then stayed a little longer when Soles asked him to.

They talked about the pool. Varren described a noise he had begun checking for; Soles explained that it was normal, then made him imitate it because his first description could have meant almost anything. They were still disagreeing about the sound when Maxim called from upstairs that the pump was better company than either of them.

After Varren left, Soles sat at the table again.

There had been a door in the king’s room, to the left of the chair. During dinner he had expected it to open. Here, in the same place, stood the cupboard Mary had painted, its lower hinge still slightly crooked.

He put his palm on the chair. Nothing happened.

He said the word quietly to the empty room.

— Stay.

Lucky stopped licking the plate Maxim had left within reach and looked at him. Soles almost laughed, then put the plate in the sink before the dog could improve the evidence.

He would not ask Maxim to sit down and see whether he could make him stay there. The king had kept the priest because he could not bear to be alone with what he had ordered. Soles could ask his cousin for company. He did not need to discover whether he could require it.

In the bedroom, he left a note on his phone about what he remembered: the chair, the door, the silence and the expectation that his cousin would obey. Then he closed his eyes.

The tree stood above him. Light ran faintly along its grooves. Beyond the broad-leafed plant, the king stood with one hand held low, where Soles’s had been.

Soles moved closer, keeping the leaves between them. He reached past them toward the man’s sleeve.

His fingers went through it.

He had seen that happen with the soldier. Decimus’s gaze stayed on the space beyond him, waiting for someone who was not there. Soles lowered his hand. He had refused to try the command again, but the king could not yet see whom he had refused to command.