Lenny didn’t answer but kept his gaze on the panoramic scene in the distance. Eventually, when he spoke, his voice sounded strange, soft but troubled.
“Do you think this is where he did it? Luke?”
Adrian hadn’t thought about the cousin, had been so caught up with the features and condition of the building he had forgotten about the story told them the previous evening. Lenny continued standing there, his arms folded around his stomach, staring out of the window. Adrian couldn’t help the compassion that hit him. Without thinking, he moved over and put his hand on Lenny’s right shoulder and squeezed gently.
“I wonder,” Lenny continued. “If we’d had the chance to know each other, would we have been friends? Would I have been someone he could have talked to?”
“Were you around the same age?”
“He was older. There would have been about eight years between us.”
“No disrespect, mate, but I can’t imagine sixteen-year-olds of any generation confiding in an eight-year-old.”
“Yeah, you probably have a point. I can’t help wondering what might have happened if I’d—”
“You can’t think like that, Lenny. What happened, happened. It’s in the past and all the ‘what-ifs’ in the world will never change a thing.”
Lenny’s head fell forward then, and Adrian felt like pulling him into a hug but instead left his hand on his shoulder.
“I just hate to think of him being so miserable, so lonely and desperate that the only solution left to him was to take his life.”
“Didn’t the landlady say he had friends locally?”
“She did. You’re right. I wonder if any of them are still around?”
“Ask her later. Come on, buddy,” said Adrian, squeezing Lenny’s shoulder again before letting go. “No point dwelling on the past. He’s no longer in pain. Hey, let’s go and see what kind of state the bathroom’s in.”
Fortunately, the bathroom provided no nasty surprises, apart from being dusty and dated like the rest of the rooms. Someone had chosen a hard plastic bathtub—a full-length tub in light pink surrounded by a pine frame—next to a small matching hand basin and matching toilet. Adrian quickly located and turned on the water main. From the remains left in the cistern, the toilet flushed easily, and the sink water drained away instantly. Once again linoleum had been used to cover the floors, this time a deep forest green, cracked and splintered in places. Everything would need updating should anyone want to buy the home. Adrian watched amused at the disgust on Leonard’s face when Adrian turned on the sink tap, and heard a choking gurgle as light brown water coughed and spat a couple of times before running clean and clear.
“Why in the name of good taste would someone choose a matching pink bathroom suite?” asked Lenny. “Do you think they were colour-blind?”
“You have an issue with the colour pink?”
Lenny grinned then.
“Not in the slightest. Just not something I would have in my bathroom.”
“But orange and brown tiles in the kitchen are fine? Honestly, Lenny, I’m beginning to think your family had taste issues. I hope it’s not hereditary.”
Lenny laughed aloud.
“Come on, Ade, you must admit. Plastic tubs alone are bad enough. Plastic tubs in pink should be made illegal.”
“What can I say? Maybe they had a special offer on bathroom suites back in the day. Or maybe it was all the rage in Wales back in the seventies or eighties. Who knows? I told you. Look at what itcouldbe. First off, this bathroom space is huge. You could either turn this into two smaller bathrooms and make one an en suite or create one amazing single bathroom. Although, if you’re going to do route, I’d suggest putting a shower in here too and maybe a half bathroom downstairs.”
Leonard always listened intently to Adrian’s suggestions, this time with his hands on his hips while nodding and screwing his nose up at the bathroom furniture.
“Best of all, it’s your house, so you get to have the first whack with a sledgehammer if you do decide to keep the place. Get rid of some of that mother tension.”
“Never thought of that. Maybe you should have been a psychiatrist.”
“Of course, the other alternative is to leave everything as it is and let your aunt, or whoever the new owners are, decide what they want to do.”
“You know,” said Lenny, stopping a moment and looking around, “in spite of the dreadful décor, I kind of love the vibe of the house. Even in this shitty weather. So I can only imagine how much better this would be in the sunshine and after a fresh coat of paint.”
“You’re going to keep her then?”
“What do you think?”
