At the top stair Ada said, “The police get the card. I’m taking my phone to them too.”
Julian held out his hand. “Give me the phone.”
“No.”
His hand stayed open as she turned away. Then he reached past Daniel for the canvas bag.
Daniel caught the strap first. The bag swung between them and struck the doorframe.
“Leave it,” he said.
“It's mine.”
“The card isn't.”
Julian pulled. Daniel let the strap slip rather than be dragged against him. The bag dropped to the floor, its open pocket spilling a cable onto the landing.
Ada was at the top stair. Julian reached her in two steps and seized her wrist.
She turned sharply. “Don't.”
Daniel went after him.
“Take your hand off.”
Julian pulled Ada back from the stairs. She struck his forearm with her free hand, and he tightened his grip. Daniel caught his shoulder. Julian let go of Ada and drove his elbow backwards into Daniel's chest.
The blow knocked the breath out of him. He couldn't say anything. Julian turned, his face quite different now, and shoved him towards the open bedroom door.
Daniel hit the jamb with his shoulder. Ada came between them.
“Stop.”
Julian caught at her again. She stepped into the bedroom to get away from the stairs, and he followed, forcing her back against the chest of drawers. Daniel saw one of her hands spread behind her, searching for something to hold.
Daniel went in and took Julian by the arm.
Julian swung at him. Daniel jerked backwards; the heel of Julian's hand struck his jaw. He fell against the chest of drawers, sending its top drawer sliding open. Ada twisted away. Julian reached across Daniel for Ada’s bag, her phone inside it.
The three bodies pressed against the furniture. The antique mirror tipped forwards from where its lower edge rested. Daniel heard the old joint give.
He lifted his right hand to catch it.
The glass broke against the corner of the open drawer.
For an instant it felt like a heavy plate pushed into his palm. Then the weight came away and the inside of his hand opened.
He tried to pull it back. Julian was still reaching for Ada. The mirror fell in large bright pieces, hitting the drawer, the floor, Daniel's boot. Something black and small snapped loose from a thin lead and bounced beneath the bed.
Daniel looked at his hand.
He could see too much of it.
Ada grabbed the loose bottom section of carved frame. Julian caught her sweatshirt at the shoulder. She swung the wood once, with both hands, into the side of his head and neck.
He made a short noise and fell backwards. One foot slipped among the broken glass. He went down beside the bed with his leg bent beneath him.
Daniel couldn't get his fingers to close.
Ada dropped the frame. She caught his left arm and pulled him towards the door.
“Come on.”
His blood had reached his wrist. He held the injured hand against his chest, staining his shirt without stopping anything.
They got onto the landing. Ada pulled the bedroom door towards them, not quite shutting it. There was no bolt across it now. The key lay beside the laptop.
Julian said her name from inside.
Daniel looked towards the stairs, but she was looking back through the gap.
He said, “Phone.”
She was already reaching into her bag, but his own was in his left pocket. He took it out with his good hand and nearly dropped it. He managed the call with his thumb.
“Ambulance. Police. Someone's been hurt.”
He gave the address twice. His voice had gone high and thin. He told the person there had been a fight, broken glass, injuries, that they were out of the man's reach but he was still in the bedroom.
Ada went to the bathroom across the landing. Daniel tried to catch her sleeve and missed.
She came back with two clean towels. She pressed one around his hand.
“Hold it.”
He trapped the towel with his left hand. He felt pressure and then a sharp, spreading pain which made the room tilt.
From the bedroom Julian said, “Ada, please.”
She looked inside again.
“Oh God.”
Daniel looked past her. Julian was sitting against the bed, one hand pressed to his lower leg. Blood was running between his fingers. The glass around him looked wet and dark.
Ada said to Daniel, “Tell them he's bleeding a lot.”
He did. The person on the phone asked where and told him what they should do if it was safe. He repeated the instructions badly. Ada took one look at his face and said she could hear.
She went back into the bedroom, keeping close to the open door and clear of Julian's hands. He reached towards her once. She pulled away.
“No. Put that hand there.”
He obeyed. She folded the second towel and pressed it onto his leg over his own hand. She knelt among the glass, not close enough for him to take hold of her easily, and pushed down. He cried out.
“I know,” she said. “I know.”
Daniel heard the voice she used when he'd burned his finger on a soldering iron. Tender and annoyed that pain had done this to someone she knew. Once, he had thought that voice belonged to him.
He stood in the doorway with the phone against his ear and watched her keep Julian alive.
The bag was still on the landing. Its plastic card case had fallen out beside the cable. Daniel did not pick it up. He couldn't bend without feeling he would go down and never stand again.
Julian said, “I didn't mean—”
“Don't talk,” Ada told him.
Daniel was told the responders were on their way. He stayed on the call. At some point he went downstairs to open the front door, leaving red marks where his good hand had to help the bad one hold the towel.
The workshop looked exactly as it had looked that morning. The bird waited on the bench. Beside it lay the biscuits Julian had brought.
Daniel opened the door and leaned against it.
When the ambulance turned into the street, he lifted his left arm to show them where to come.