He walked up the five flights of stairs until he came to Anita’s landing. He paused outside the door, listening. Then he went back to the banister rail and looked down to make sure no one was coming up or watching him. He saw no one, and he returned to the door and rapped softly.
‘Who is it?’
The sound of her voice sent a little prickle up his spine, surprising him.
‘Baird,’ he said, his mouth close to the door. ‘I want to talk to you.’
He leaned against the doorway and waited. He heard the light click on, the pad of bare feet on the floor, then the door opened.
She stood looking up at him, her dark eyes unafraid and enquiring. She had pulled on her shabby overcoat. Beneath it he caught a glimpse of her plain white nightdress he had seen her in so often.
‘What do you want?’ she said sharply. ‘I was asleep.’
He experienced a pang of disappointment that she wasn’t pleased to see him, but he wasn’t going to be put off.
‘I guessed you would be,’ he said. ‘I’ve just got in from New York. I thought I’d see how you were getting on.’ He moved forward, riding her back into the room.
‘I don’t want you in here,’ she said, stepping away from him. ‘Not at this hour.’