91

The art deco house was locked up. The lawn was bare, the garden furniture and games gone, like a stage after closing night, the set struck within hours of the performance.

There was no reason for me to expect Bunny to show up, but it was the last place I’d seen him. I’d followed the -unconscious map my mind had laid out, hoping for the satisfaction of a debrief.

I had questions that I knew Bunny wouldn’t answer.

I wanted to ask why he’d got me involved. It was like -introducing a bull to a china shop. I knew the answer, but I wanted Bunny to say it out loud.

I gave it a couple of hours, watching the white lines in the sky. No sign of Bunny, but I hadn’t expected any different. He and I were finished, one way or another.

Besides, I had a train to catch. A trip to Cornwall.

A loose end.