Leaves swirled and crackled along the cold stone pavements
and tarmac.adam road， hurrying to find some sheltered ledge
or wall where they could mass and huddle together with
others and wait for the end.
Radford thought about the leaves as he fixed his park-
ing light and as he walked up the short front path to his
door. It seemed only yesterday that they were just green
shoots， people were saying: The leaves have started to
show， and the invigorating atmosphere of spring was every-
where.
He stood at the door for a while， looking back along the
street with its so ordinary suburban semi-detached and
terraced houses， the regularly-spaced iron lamp standards
with blobs of light and dark shadows in between， and he
remembered the house in Farley Vale， the steep gables and
clean white walls， the lawns and silver birches， the firs and
oaks. The nearest to it had been over two hundred yards
away， hidden by shrubs and trees. He had loved that place，
had put a lot into it， and he d never quite got over the
wrench of leaving it， nor had the bitterness left him. When
you are riding high it is difficult to be pessimistic， to have
doubts. You could be blissfully ignorant of what lay round
the corner and then~and then， the whole structure of your
economic existence could fall about your ears.
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