The Inventory
The shadow was still in the flat, although the man who had cast it had moved out the previous morning. Nora found it beside the kitchen window, bent over an invisible table. For a moment she mistook the shape for a stain. Then it raised its head. Her inventory had boxes for damaged furniture, missing keys and unpaid bills. There was nowhere to record a shadow that had declined to leave.
"Are you waiting for someone?" she asked. The shape straightened, slowly enough to make the question feel impatient. "Not any longer." Its voice seemed to come from the plaster, low and slightly rough. Nora looked behind her. Her own shadow lay across the floor, obediently repeating the movement. She had heard of shadows separating from their owners, but had never encountered one during an inspection. The training course had concentrated on leaks.
The flat was due to be shown to a prospective tenant at three. Nora's manager, Tess, had entrusted her with the inspection because two colleagues were absent. If it went smoothly, she might begin conducting viewings without supervision. She had already checked the taps, counted the keys Halden had returned and photographed a crack above the sink. All that remained was to certify that the rooms were vacant. The shadow watched her pencil approach the last box.
"What should I call you?" "He called me his shadow." "I can see that." "Can you?" Nora lowered the clipboard. On the wall, the shape had the shoulders of a man in a coat, but its right hand rested against its chest instead of hanging by its side. "Mr Halden left yesterday," she said. "I know. I was here." She glanced at the form again. It described his departure as complete.
A detached shadow could move across adjoining patches of light, from a wall to a floor or through an open doorway. It could not cross a band of darkness. Without light, it became still and silent until light returned. Nor could a body reclaim it merely by stepping into it; the shadow had to move towards the body as well. Nora knew these things from stories told at school. She wished she had paid equal attention to what happened afterwards.
"You can't stay here indefinitely," she said. "Why not?" "Someone else may rent the flat." "Then someone else should be asked." He had been looking towards the street, where a delivery van briefly interrupted the sunlight. His outline thinned and returned. "Would you mind moving away from the window?" Nora stepped aside before remembering that she was supposed to be in charge. The shadow unfolded along the wall. For the first time, she saw how much of it her body had obscured.
She rang Tess from the landing. The corridor was dark, so the shadow remained inside. "Halden's left something behind," Nora said. "Anything valuable?" "That depends." She explained. There was a pause long enough for Nora to imagine her promotion retreating down the stairs. "Don't turn an inspection into a dispute," Tess said. "Ask him to collect it. The tenant needs a clean handover." Nora looked through the doorway. The shadow had heard every word.
An Empty Room
"The painters are coming tomorrow," Nora told him. "They will cover the windows while they work." "For how long?" "Until Monday, probably." He looked towards the narrow strip of afternoon light. "A weekend is quite a long time when you can't move." She had been about to describe the arrangement as temporary. The word remained unspoken. On her inventory, the flat was supposed to be empty, and the shadow was still waiting for her to decide what that meant.
Nora opened both interior doors. Sunlight reached the sitting room but stopped before the passage. The shadow extended a hand towards the unlit tiles, then withdrew it. "You could leave when the sun reaches the doorway," she suggested. "And then?" "Find somewhere else." "Have you looked outside?" Across the road, the awnings made a continuous dark strip along the pavement. He could reach the landing if she lit it, but getting out of the building would require further help. Her suggestion was an exit, not a destination.
She fetched the battery lamp used for inspecting cupboards from the office downstairs. It cast a broad white patch over the passage. The shadow approached the edge of the kitchen wall. "You could go this way," she said. "You could make me go this way." "I'm offering." "You've also told me my window will be covered." Nora set the lamp down. She had intended to demonstrate that the problem was solvable. From his side of the room, she realised, she was demonstrating how little control he possessed.
"Why didn't you leave with Halden?" The shadow's fingers spread, though there was nothing beneath them to touch. "We used to read by this window. He worked late, and I went wherever he went. Then he stopped reading. We spent our evenings packing things he wanted to take north." "His business is moving." "Yes. He mentioned that frequently." There was no accusation in the voice. That made it harder to decide whether the complaint was reasonable, or whether Nora had misunderstood it altogether.
"He could have asked me," the shadow continued. "You could have told him." "I did. He said I would feel differently once we arrived." Nora recognised the answer. Tess had used almost the same words when Nora had asked to avoid weekend viewings. There had been reasons, good ones, for the office rota. Remembering them did not make the sentence sound less final. "Did you want him to remain?" she asked. "I wanted him to hear the question before answering it for both of us."
At half past two, Jun arrived with a travel bag and a roll of fabric under her arm. She made book covers for a living and wanted a room with afternoon light. Having come from another town, she had asked to see the flat before deciding where to spend the night. Nora had expected someone easier to impress. Jun inspected the crack, tested the window latch and asked whether the sitting room could hold her workbench. Only then did she notice the shape on the kitchen wall.
Nora explained without calling it a stain or a possession. Jun listened, then asked the shadow whether he intended to speak while she worked. "Not necessarily." "That isn't an answer." "I haven't lived with a bookbinder before." "And I haven't lived with you." Jun put her fabric on the counter. "I came for a private room, not an audience. I need to think." Nora let the silence remain. It was the first useful thing she had done since bringing up the lamp.
An Owner Returns
Halden arrived before Jun had finished looking round. He had not yet left the city; Tess had reached him at his sister's house. He entered carrying a small cardboard box, as though an object of uncertain dimensions might still be collected with adequate packaging. Without his shadow, he looked oddly flat in the doorway. He glanced at Jun, then at Nora's clipboard. "I'd rather this hadn't become a public matter," he said. Nora noticed that he addressed everyone except the figure on the wall.
"I didn't know what to tell the painters," she replied. "Tell them the flat will be cleared." Halden put the box down and walked into the sunlight. He waited with his arms slightly out from his sides. Nothing happened. Nora knew enough not to suggest that he stand closer. The shadow remained beside the window, its hand still against its chest. Halden lowered his arms. "We agreed we were going north," he said. "You booked a van," the shadow replied.
"It was hardly a secret." "No." "I talked about it for months." "You talked about the new shop. You talked about the bigger office. You said there would be a window." Halden looked at Nora. "There is a window." "Does it open?" asked the shadow. "What difference does that make to you?" A bus passed below, and its shadow travelled across the kitchen wall. For an instant, the figure on the wall became faint. Halden was the first to turn towards the light when it returned.
He sat on the box, which bent under his weight. "I need to be there on Tuesday. I can't keep coming back." His voice had lost its official neatness. He described the work he had taken on, the money already spent, the people expecting him. Nora could hear that these were pressures, not merely excuses. The shadow said nothing. Jun watched the box slowly collapse at one corner. When Halden stood again, he pressed the cardboard straight with unnecessary care.
"Come for a month," he said. "If you dislike it, we'll discuss it then." Nora almost praised the offer. A month sounded reasonable; it sounded like the sort of compromise she was paid to arrange. Then the shadow asked, "Where would I come back to?" Halden looked around the stripped room. Jun's fabric lay on the counter. "We'll find somewhere," he said. His answer was sincere, Nora thought. It was also a promise whose inconvenience would fall on someone else.
"He doesn't have to go with you," she said. Halden's mouth tightened. "You don't have to turn every unfinished conversation into a new rule." "I'm trying to finish this one." She heard the sharpness in her voice and put the clipboard on the counter. "You have a departure to make. Jun has a decision to make. And he has said he doesn't want to leave with you. I can't mark the flat vacant while all three things are being treated as the same question."
Halden picked up the damaged box. "I thought staying together was what shadows did." For the first time, he looked directly at the wall. "So did I," the shadow said. Halden remained in the sunlight a little longer. Then he nodded, without inviting anyone to interpret the gesture. At the door he gave Nora the spare key she had not known was missing. She corrected the inventory's key count. This time the alteration was small enough to fit inside the box provided.
Terms of Occupation
Jun waited until Halden's steps had faded. "If I take the flat, may I close the curtains?" The shadow looked at her. "Sometimes I want to work without being watched. Sometimes I want to sleep in the afternoon." Nora began to suggest the lamp. Jun shook her head. "I mean without needing to provide somewhere else for him to be." The shadow's outline narrowed. Nora could see that she had offered him an escape from one arrangement without asking how another might work.
"The sitting room has another window," he said. "You could leave that one uncovered." "And if I want both rooms dark?" "Then I'll be still until you open them." "Will you resent it?" "Probably, if you do it without telling me." Jun drew a length of fabric across the counter, measuring with her thumb. "I would resent you speaking when I've asked for quiet." "Probably," he said again. This time she smiled, briefly. Neither of them sounded particularly grateful. Nora found that encouraging.
They tried the rooms before agreeing to anything. With the battery lamp in the passage, the shadow could move between the two windows. Jun shut the kitchen curtain while he waited in the sitting room. She moved her workbench's imaginary position twice, deciding where the strongest light would fall. He pointed out that the afternoon sun reached the opposite wall later. She listened, checked the street outside and changed her measurement. When she asked him to return to the kitchen, he asked whether she meant now or after the trial. "Now," she said. "All right."
"Do you have a name?" Jun asked. "Not one that isn't his." She waited. Outside, a branch moved against the pale sky. "Ash," he said at last. "Will that do?" "You'll have to answer to it." The shape on the wall lifted its head. Nora wrote the name in the margin, followed by detached shadow. She crossed out object awaiting collection. Under special terms, where she usually recorded permission for a bicycle in the passage, she began a longer note.
Tess came upstairs to read it. Jun would pay the advertised rent; Ash would be recorded as an additional occupant. The curtains would be Jun's to open or close, with warning where practical. The lamp would stay on loan until Jun provided her own light for the passage. Neither agreed to conversation on demand. Ash could request help to leave; Jun was not undertaking to carry him into a future home. The painters would come tomorrow. Before covering the windows, they would agree with Jun where to leave a lit space until Monday. Nora would return to check that arrangement. Tess read those sentences twice. "You're promising them another visit," she told Nora. "Yes."
"And if they fall out?" "They'll have to tell us what has happened." Tess tapped the vacant box, still unmarked. Nora waited for an order to tick it. Instead, Tess said, "Jun's moving in, so we can record the outgoing tenancy as closed. That doesn't mean pretending the room was empty." She took a photograph of the additional terms. "We'll discuss your inspections tomorrow." Nora could not tell whether this was approval or a warning. She placed the papers beside Halden's spare key.
When the papers were signed, Jun carried her bag into the sitting room. Nora reached for the battery lamp, then stopped. Ash was crossing the passage, his long hand sliding along the wall. "Are you finished with the light?" she asked. "Not quite." She left it where it stood and went to count the returned keys. Behind her, Jun unrolled her fabric across the kitchen counter. On the opposite wall, a hand rose to indicate the line of afternoon sunlight, without borrowing the shape of hers.
