Arnos Hell

by Eamonn Murphy

  “Maybe we could shout out of the windows,” said Bob. Although the building was air-conditioned the windows were equipped to open, in case of a crisis.

  “At whom would you shout,” said Eddie. “The nearest people are in the cemetery.”

  “Maybe we could jump out of the windows,” said Paula.

  “We’re on the third floor, dear,” said Nancy. “I’m a bit old for sky-diving.”

  Caroline stood up; put a hand to her head. “I feel giddy. I’m just going for a glass of water.”

  Bob moved to rise. “Are you okay?”

  She waved him back. “I’ll be fine.” She went into the kitchen.

  Eddie said, “At least if the doors won’t open we’re safe from Bruce.”

  “Bruce?” said Nancy.

  “The Australian soldier haunting the corridors.” Eddie waved his hands again in the manner of earlier hours and said, “Ooooh, spooky.”

  Mandy glared at him. She sat with her back to the door and Eddie was facing her, his back to the call centre. Bob and Nancy were also facing the door, Nancy looking at it wistfully now and then. Paula was sat on the step of the supervisors’ podium looking out of the window behind Bob.

  She turned to the lady in charge and said, “It’s up to you, Nancy. What do you think we should do?”

  “I hate to agree with Eddie but I think he’s right. We might as well sit tight and wait for the morning shift to arrive. There’s not much else we can do.”

  Paula stood up and went to her computer. “We’re not taking calls,” said Eddie.

  She poked her tongue out at him. “I’m going to have another look at that Dardanelles website and see if I can get any more information.”

  “Do you think it’s relevant?” Nancy sounded miffed at the idea.

  “I’m not doing anything else useful.”

  “Caroline is a long time getting that water,” said Bob. He stood up.

  Mandy screamed. She fell off her chair and pointed over Eddie’s shoulder. She pushed herself backwards with her legs, like a toddler who could not yet walk, until her back was to the glass doors. For a second they all stared at her in amazement and then turned to look in the direction she was pointing.

  Bob immediately recognized the man he had seen in his dream, the Turk or Indian. Nancy obviously did too for she pointed wide-eyed and shouted, “It’s him!”

  Eddie fell off his chair and sat on the floor open-mouthed, struck dumb.

  The figure was dressed exactly as Bob had seen him before, the long purple robe with a white shawl around the shoulders, blue shoes, and broad-brimmed hat. He was there, in the room, a real presence. Yet he was not quite there in the sense that Eddie and Nancy were. He seemed to shimmer slightly, even to fade a little, like a television picture with bad reception. His voice was loud and firm but seemed to crackle as if coming through faulty speakers.

  “You must leave here,” he said, pointing to the doors.

  Bob found his own voice somehow. “We can’t. The doors don’t work.”

  The apparition repeated more firmly: “You must leave here. Leave by any means possible. The Anzac is taking control of the building. He will destroy it. If you are inside you will die.”

  Eddie shouted in confused rage. “How can you be here? How can you exist?”

  “This is the night when spirits may roam the world. Beware the Anzac! He is angry. He will not lie down to rest while this building exists. It is a desecration. Leave.”

  “Tell us how,” shouted Bob. He didn’t know why he was shouting. Pure panic.

  “Leave,” said the apparition. “I cannot warn you again.” He pointed to the kitchen and looked terribly sad. “The girl may die anyway.”

  He vanished like a soap bubble popping.

  Bob looked at the empty space for a few seconds. “The girl may die anyway.” He had been pointing at the kitchen.

  “Caroline!” He raced for the tearoom but Paula was nearer and got there first. Caroline was again slumped on the floor in a dead faint. There was a broken glass and a puddle of water beside her. Luckily she had not fallen on the glass. Bob and Paula picked her up and put her on the long sofa against the wall.

  Paula felt her pulse. “She’s looking pale. Her pulse is unsteady. She’s not well.”

  “What did he mean when he said the girl may die?” Bob was almost frantic.

  Paula looked at him sympathetically. “I don’t know. She keeps fainting. There must be some reason for it.”

  Nancy entered the room. Outside, in the call centre, Bob could faintly hear the voices of Eddie and Mandy, mostly Mandy. She was undoubtedly enjoying – in as much as the situation permitted – doing ‘I told you so’ to her would be wooer.

  Nancy caught his eye and shook her head. “Those two.”

  He smiled. “They’ll be happily married one day. I think we should get out.”

  Nancy looked at Paula. She indicated Caroline and agreed. “I think we should if only for her sake. Something is going on here that affects her and she is getting weaker. There’s a long time to go until dawn.”

  “The Turk seemed quite insistent too,” said Bob. Conditioned by old movies on Sunday afternoons on how to face a crisis he was trying to do stiff upper lipped British understatement.

  “We have to get out,” agreed Nancy. “But how do we?”

  Chapter Ten

  “We’ll have to smash the door,” said Bob.

  Nancy frowned. “I don’t want to do that.”

  “Do you want to stay here?” said Paula.

  Nancy put her head in her hands for a moment then raised it again, looking harried. “I’m in charge here, Paula, and when it’s all done I will have to write the report. Am I seriously expected to write that a Turkish ghost warned us that an Australian ghost was going to kill us and we had to flee? Can you see the headlines? Staff wreck million pound call centre because of ghosts. NHS wastes more money. Unstable Nurse retired to Mental Institution.” Her hands trembled with agitation.

  Bob put his arm around her. “Sit down Nancy.” He put her on the couch next to Caroline, who was just beginning to stir. He knelt in front of her, took her hands. “We will back you up. We all saw it too. Listen, Eddie and me will smash the doors and say you tried to stop us but couldn’t. Don’t worry; we won’t let you take the blame for this.”

  “Of course we won’t,” said Paula.

  Bob stood up. “I’ll get Eddie and start smashing. Take care of them.” He re-entered the call centre to find Eddie and Mandy silent, all argued out apparently.

  His friend looked up. “What now?”

  “We smash our way out. Give me a hand to move the computers off this table.” Three tables pushed together with eighteen-inch high screening in between formed the pods. They put the computers on the floor and yanked one table free. It was cumbersome and heavy. They turned it sideways so the legs were parallel with the floor. Bob fitted himself around the rear legs; Eddie took the smooth side with a grip on the back and bottom of the tabletop. They carried it to the door.

  Bob said: “We’ll swing it back and then ram it into the door. On the count of three: one, two, three!”

  They swung it with all their might at the left-hand glass door. There was a loud ringing sound. A large split appeared in the glass from the top left corner to the bottom right.

  “This twenty-first-century glass is sturdy,” said Eddie.

  “Again. One – two – three!” The table clanged into the glass again. This time a crack appeared laterally so the main pane was almost divided into quarters. Bob pushed it gently with his hand but the frame still held it.

  “One more should do it.” They repeated the process and the top quarter fell out into the corridor. The other three stayed in place.

  “Hang on.” Eddie put down the table and kicked hard at the left-hand piece. It moved outwards. He kicked it again and it fell out. Bob kicked the right-hand section and it too fell out. The bottom piece, a vicious triangle poking up, was now loose and
they lifted it clear of the frame.

  “Good job it breaks so nicely,” said Bob. “I was afraid we get hundreds of shards to walk over or flying back in our faces.”

  Eddie rubbed his shoulder. “Slamming tables into doors is hard on my soft call handler body. I’m not a rough tough builder anymore.”

  “Wimp!” shouted Mandy.

  “Thank you for your support.”

  Bob surveyed the table. Two of the legs were wobbly in their fixings and the trim had broken off the front edge. Nancy, Pauline and, he was pleased to see, Caroline, had come out of the tearoom to survey their handiwork. He smiled at Caroline. “Don’t worry, we’ll soon be out.”

  “On to the next one,” said Eddie.

  The corridor outside the call centre led to the first flight of stairs. There was a door blocking access to the next flight going upwards but access to the stairs going down was clear. The stairwell was designed with the blocking doors at the bottom of each flight. Each floor of the building had an additional door blocking entry to it, such as the one they had just smashed. The next door was difficult because they had the stairs behind them and only a small space about two metres square in which to stand and swing the table. It was room enough but felt cramped. The girls stood at the top of the stairs and watched as they crashed wood into glass again. This door took four blows to get through.

  “I’m getting weaker,” said Eddie, shaking his hands. As he was gripping the back edge of the table one hand took the impact as it slammed into the door. The table edge was only about an inch thick. His palms were getting sore. Bob had a grip on the table legs but they had sharp edges too so he had the same problem.

  “How many doors to go?” said Nancy.

  “NHS Direct is on the third floor,” said Bob. “This door,” he pointed to his left, “leads to the second-floor offices. These steps go to the first floor. Another door to smash at the bottom. Down that flight to the ground floor. Another door to smash. Then I think it’s clear to the exit doors, which we will probably have to smash too.”

  “Three more sets of doors!” wailed Eddie. “Oh, my poor hands.”

  “Wimp!” shouted Mandy.

  “If he is, I am too,” said Bob. “This is hard work.”

  “Let the girls have a go,” said Eddie. “They’re equal now.”

  “I don’t mind,” said Pauline, who was sturdily built. Nancy looked dubious. Mandy, small and elfin, stayed silent.

  Eddie said, “This is the second floor, isn’t it?” Bob nodded.

  “I could jump from the second floor. If we break our way into there” – he indicated the door to their right – “and smash a window, which should be easier, I can jump down onto the grass and go get help. Less damage to the building, front entrance left intact, job done with less effort.”

  “It’s a good idea,” said Bob.

  Nancy protested. “It is not our floor. We’ll be smashing into a private company. It’s a bank, isn’t it?”

  “A call centre for a bank,” said Eddie. “No money it.”

  “I think the doors belong to the building’s owners,” said Bob, “though obviously, it will inconvenience the bank to have their doors smashed. Shall we vote?”

  They voted unanimously to take the route to the second floor, even Nancy.

  Bob and Eddie slammed the table into the door. Probably because they were now getting bruised and sore the process took six blows this time. They moved onto the second floor. The basic layout was the same as their own offices with a supervisors’ podium straight in front of them, the tearoom off to the right, the various pods with computers on scattered about the room.

  “I feel like I’m trespassing,” said Caroline. Bob took her arm and sat her down. He had been too busy to talk to her since she had recovered from the last faint.

  “How are you?” She looked pale and her fingers trembled.

  She smiled. “Weak. I wish I knew what was happening. I never fainted in my life before.”

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” said Bob. “Sorry, bad joke.”

  “I’m the only one that hasn’t.”

  Bob cocked his head to one side. “By God, you haven’t either. You fainted in the kitchen before the Turk appeared and only Mandy has seen the other one – if he is a ghost and not a beggar.”

  “The other ghost implied that Bruce was a ghost,” said Eddie. “And if you can’t trust a ghost on ghost issues, who can you trust?”

  “Bruce?” said Caroline.

  “He’s meant to be Australian,” said Nancy wearily. “It’s yet another of Eddie’s feeble jokes. Are you boys ready to tackle the window?”

  Bob nodded. Eddie rose reluctantly from the chair he had taken and with a rueful look at his hands picked up the table edge. Bob grabbed the legs.

  “With luck, this one will be easier.”

  “T’were best done quickly,” said Eddie. They swung the table back and forward. It hit the window with a dull clank and a small crack appeared in the top left corner.

  “Must do better,” said Bob. “Once more with gusto.”

  They both put a lot more effort into the second swing and the window cracked from top left to bottom right.

  “I hope there’s no one below,” said Paula.

  “Not likely at three in the morning,” Mandy said. “Go, boys, go!”

  They swung their weapon again and another crack appeared in the top right quarter. The table leg Bob was gripping came off in his hand and he fell forward and banged his shoulder on the window ledge.

  “Three legs on my table,” Eddie sang, “and I’m still rolling along. I suppose we can turn it around and grip the other end.”

  Bob nodded. Having the leg give suddenly had been an unpleasant experience, like standing on a step that wasn’t there. For a second he had feared falling out of the window. They reversed the table and slammed it into the window again. The four quarters of glass were now leaning outwards. Eddie leaned forward to get a view of the grass below.

  “I can’t see anyone down there but it’s dark. One more heave?”

  Mandy but the back of her hand to her brow in the manner of a Charleston era damsel and said: “Really, all this beastly racket is giving me the most terrible headache. Do tell the staff to get on with it, Caroline.”

  Bob took these joking remarks as a sign of relief. Mandy had been scared earlier, by the Anzac, or the beggar, or whatever he was. Now she seemed to be making a recovery.

  “One more heave,” said Eddie, “and when we’re done I shall thrash the Lady Mandy with the broken table leg.”

  With a last mighty effort, they crashed the table edge into the window glass. All four quarters of the pane fell out into the darkness and they heard a soft thud as it landed on the grass below. Bob and Eddie stepped back from the window and put the table down with a sigh of relief.

  Nancy said, “Whoever jumps had better try to miss the glass.”

  “I’ll jump,” said Bob.

  “Let me,” protested Eddie.

  Pauline was sat down serenely on a swivel chair. She said, “After jumping, what are you going to do.”

  Bob looked at her. “Go and get help.”

  “Where?”

  “That’s a good question,” said Nancy. “I suppose the best thing would be to take a mobile – Mandy’s I suppose – and call the fire brigade.”

  “Oh yes,” said Mandy. “Fetch hunky firemen to carry me down their ladder. I like real men.” She gave Eddie a disparaging look as if contrasting him to the masculine ideal.

  “I suppose that’s the best plan,” said Bob.

  “I demand to go,” said Eddie. “I must prove to Mandy that I, too, am a real man.”

  “If you insist. Keep clear of the glass though. And bend your legs when you land. If you end up lying down there with a broken leg you’ll be no use to anyone.”

  “It’ll give Mandy a laugh though.”

  “Make her laugh some other way,” said Pauline.

  “Hah!”
said Mandy. It was not clear what she meant.

  Eddie grabbed the sides of the window frame and put one leg up on the ledge. He tensed his arms to hoist himself up. He stepped nimbly onto the ledge and turned to salute his fellow staff. “Wish me luck.” He turned and tensed himself to jump.

  With a loud, ringing clang a metal shutter slammed down in front of his face. Eddie cried out and fell back onto the carpeted floor.

  “Oh bollocks,” said Mandy.

  Chapter Eleven

  Eddie sprawled on the floor, staring at the window shutter as at an enemy. “That was close.”

  Bob bent to help him up. He noticed that Eddie had gone pale. “Are you okay?”

  Eddie winked. “It missed me. I’ll live. Bit of a scare though.” He grabbed a chair and sat down, gripping the arms so the girls wouldn’t see his fingers trembling.

  Bob decided he might as well sit down like everyone else. It seemed to be time for another conference. He pulled a seat up next to Caroline and touched her leg reassuringly. She ran her hands through her hair then down over her face as if trying to pull fatigue away. She took his hand, squeezed it and tried to smile. “They told me night shifts were hell in this place.”

  “Arnos Hell,” he punned weakly. The old cemetery had been built in a valley known as Arnos Vale because it resembled the area around the river Arno in Italy.

  “At least the lights are still on.” He squeezed her hand back, remembering the earlier incident in the corridor.

  Paula said, “Look at the rest of the windows.”

  Bob looked. The shutters had not come down on the other windows, only on the broken one.

  “Maybe it’s a fail-safe security measure built into the system,” said Nancy. “If you break a window the shutter comes down to fill the gap.”

  “That would make sense,” said Mandy. She sat on a swivel chair from where she had acted as a caustic spectator to Eddie’s attempts. Now she clumsily rolled the chair over to him and patted his knee. “Nice try though.”