On the spur of the moment, Jake decided to show Derrick one last thing before he left.
‘Come with me, Derrick.’ Jake returned to the lift, conscious of the fact that the concierge, still standing there open-mouthed,still holding Jake’s letter, was watching their every move.
Jake shepherded Derrick towards a lift – not the one they’d taken, but a different lift reserved for the occupant of the fiftieth floor.
Jake imagined that it would surprise Derrick to learn that neither he nor Marcus had ever set foot in that top-floor apartment, or been all that curious to look. Not until now.
Jake glanced at Derrick, who was standing right beside him outside the lift. The look on his face said,you have got to be shitting me,except this time he was too surprised to utter a sound.
‘I shit you not,’ said Jake, a smile creasing his lips, before turning his attention to the keypad. The lift wouldn’t open until he entered the keycode. Six empty boxes flashed on the small digital display. Since Jake never had occasion to use the lift, he had no idea what it was, but knowing William, it would have to be relatively easy to remember, and knowing William, it would have to be something connected with the family. He was guessing, but if it consisted of six digits, then a date of birth would be the logical answer.
The most obvious choice was his wife, Grace’s, date of birth. Jake knew the day and month, but he wasn’t entirely sure of the year. Several wrong attempts later suggested either he was getting the year wrong, or Grace’s birthday was not the code. Several more increasingly ridiculous guesses pitching her age anywhere between thirty-five and one hundred and two confirmed the code was not related to Grace.
Jake swallowed hard and keyed the next most obvious choice – Eleanor. She had always been William’s favourite. To Jake’s surprise, the lift remained stubbornly stationary. The first born, that was probably it; Jake tried Marcus’s date of birth next – still no dice. He was running out of options.
Finally, he keyed in William’s date of birth; an absurd idea fora security code, and the least obvious choice, but what the hell – Jake keyed it in. Nothing happened. Jake was now stumped. He guessed neither of them would get to see that top-floor apartment.
Derrick, who had been watching Jake’s attempts at cracking the code with interest, made a suggestion. ‘Why not try your date of birth?’
Jake thought that his own date of birth was not the most obvious choice. But then, on the other hand, maybe as a security measure that was the point. Jake glanced at him and shrugged. ‘Worth a try.’ Jake keyed it in. To his complete surprise, the six-digit code was accepted and the light above the lift flicked on. Jake turned to Derrick, who was smiling from ear to ear.
‘Well done you,’ said Jake.
Jake pressed the illuminated button indicating an up arrow. As far as he was aware, the lift had not been used in years, decades even, and he was feeling some trepidation at the thought of getting into it. Perhaps he should have checked with the concierge to find out the last time it had been serviced. For security reasons, the lift remained on the fiftieth floor.
To Jake’s amazement, something was happening; he could hear the peculiar ghostly twang and yawn of metal cables straining in the empty lift shaft on the other side of the door as the lift began its descent.
They waited.
Jake began to sweat. The thought of a lift, a confined space, was not good at the best of times, but one that had not been used in years was even worse. Jake suddenly hoped the lift died before it reached the ground floor.
It was not his lucky day; the lift door opened.
Jake and Derrick peered inside. He didn’t know what they were expecting; a red carpet perhaps, the walls adorned with beautiful motifs or pictures, a seat even. But there was none ofthat. It was just an ordinary lift, identical in every way to the one Derrick rode up and down in all day.
Before they stepped inside, Jake felt it necessary to tell Derrick the truth about the apartment on the top floor; Derrick would have to be prepared for an apartment that although on a far grander scale, in all probability would appear quite neglected. They would be the first people to step inside for years – Jake doubted that even the cleaners had access.
‘Ready?’ said Jake.
The lift whisked them up to the top floor. The lift door opened onto a wide, expansive hallway. Derrick and Jake exchanged glances. The hallway was spotless. Jake shrugged – so he’d been wrong about the cleaners. They stepped out of the lift. At Jake’s invitation, Derrick went off to explore.
Jake held back; something didn’t feel right.
Based on the layout of his own apartment, Jake took the corridor to the left, down which he assumed, rightly, he’d find the living areas. Jake headed for the kitchen first. It turned out to be a twenty-foot-square monster of a room with monster appliances, solid oak units fronting three walls and a matching island in the centre of the room. Just like the hall, the room was spotless. Jake ran a finger along a section of the worktop to reveal not a speck of dust.
He casually sauntered around the room until his attention was drawn to a shelf above the kitchen worktop containing a row of black tins – round and square – delicately patterned in red and gold Japanese designs. He came to a halt in front of them. He knew exactly what they were. He stared at them for some time in mounting disbelief. Finally, he reached out and randomly picked one off the shelf. He opened the lid just as Derrick came racing into the kitchen, skidding to a halt in front of Jake.
‘Mr Campbell-Ross,’ he gulped, ‘I was looking for youeverywhere.’ He was out of breath. ‘You need to come see.’ He pointed. ‘There are clothes in the bedroom cupboard.’ He whispered, ‘I think somebody lives here.’
Jake looked down at the open tin in his hands. He brought it to his nose and sniffed – tea.
‘Derrick, we need to leave – now.’
The look on Derrick’s face said he knew something was up. Derrick got to the lift ahead of Jake.
Jake did not follow him inside. ‘Derrick, I want you to do something for me.’
Jake had an idea. He sent Derrick back to the ground floor, back to retrieve the letter from the concierge that he had written to Aubrey to inform him that he’d handed over his apartment to Derrick. ‘And for goodness’ sake, don’t tell him what you’d discovered up here.’ As far as everyone knew, nobody had stepped foot in that apartment, let alone lived there.
