Vaughan was a bulwark in the open front door, arms folded, face set. Luke expected him to smile, or step aside, or even just to acknowledge him; but he remained motionless, and his confidence faltered the closer he got. Vaughan waited until the first breath of Luke’s stammered request to enter before stepping aside with a smirk. Wanker, thought Luke, as he crossed the threshold. It was a classic school-bully move, an effective assertion of power without a bruise to show or words to repeat to the teacher. He knew why Vaughan was doing it. He disapproved of Luke’s presence in his master’s house – in his master’s life – but voicing that disapproval, contradicting Grand’s judgement, was more than his job was worth.Those interior walls not papered with flock were lined with wood, giving Luke the impression of being in a giant sauna. In the vast sitting room, shiny with brown veneer, a wall unit was formed around a central cubbyhole the size of a microwave oven, clearly intended to house a television.
