“It doesn’t make much sense to me,” said Paula. “If all the shutters came down I could see it: but one? And the one shutter that would frustrate our attempts to get out. I don’t like it.”
“Are you suggesting a malign intelligence at work,” said Eddie. He sounded as if he half believed it himself.
“I’m suggesting it’s a possibility. Or even a probability.” Paula leaned forward and counted off points on her fingers for emphasis. “Look. One, we have seen a ghost. Either that or we were subject to some sort of mass hallucination. Two, he warned us that another spirit bore us ill will and wanted to destroy the building. Three, this was preceded by inexplicable happenings on our computer screens, voices from nowhere on the headphones and then the phones going down. Four, the doors don’t work. Five, we try to get out of a window and the shutter comes down, on that window only. Five by itself might be passed off as reasonable but with the other points” – she leaned back in her chair – “I think there is a malign intelligence at work.”
“And your conclusion?” said Bob, impressed by this structured analysis of the situation, which, he supposed, was what one learned at University.
“We should get off our asses and get the Hell out of here. Pronto.”
“Let’s have a vote again,” said Eddie. “All those in favour lean to the left, all those against lean to the right.” He leaned his torso dramatically to the left. “I’m inclined to agree.”
Laughing, Bob leaned to the left too. “I’m inclined to agree as well.”
Paula and Mandy, who was giggling, swayed their bodies to the left. Nancy looked at them as if they were all mad. “I agree. I suppose you boys will have to start smashing doors again.”
“We will,” said Bob, without enthusiasm. He and Eddie stood up.
Bob looked at the table they had been using. “This one is worn out now. We might as well get a fresh one. There are still a few doors to go.” He sighed. “Breaking in here and breaking the window turned out to be a wasted effort.”
Eddie began moving computers off one of the pod tables.
“What are you doing?” cried Nancy.
“We need a fresh table.”
“But these are not ours,” she said, sounding a little outraged. “They belong to the bank.”
Eddie looked impatiently at the ceiling. “The bank can afford a new one.”
Caroline put a hand on Nancy’s knee, spoke gently. “Nance, let it go. This is an emergency.”
Nancy shook her head but did not protest further except to mutter, “It just doesn’t seem right. People have no respect for property anymore.”
“Give me a hand Bob.” Eddie continued to move screens and processors onto the floor. Bob grabbed the computer next to him. Eddie muttered, “She’s like a Daily Mail editorial on declining family values and young people today.”
“She’s all right,” said Bob.
They took the fresh new table and carried it over to the door they had broken to get in. Only one half of the double door was smashed and the table’s awkward shape had to be eased through it. Then they came to the stairs and descended to the next doorway. Again there was a small space about two metres square before it for them to manoeuvre in. They carried the table down the stairs and stopped halfway for a rest, it perched awkwardly on the stairwell.
“Are your hands ready for more bruising?” asked Eddie.
Bob closed his eyes and suddenly realized he was exhausted. Staying awake all night was not natural but at least sitting down and taking calls wasn’t too strenuous. Battering through heavy doors in a strange and frightening atmosphere was very different.
Eddie repeated the question. “Are you ready?”
Bob sighed. “No. But let’s do it anyway.”
The girls were sat the steps watching them. Paula was at the top, Nancy two steps down, Caroline next to her, Mandy nearest them.
They hoisted the table. Bob was facing up the stairs, his back to the target door, and stepped carefully downwards to get to the small landing. Three more doors to smash would be hard on him. He wondered if they would be allowed any time off sick with bruising. Suddenly Mandy squealed.
“It’s open!”
Bob twisted to look over his shoulder but couldn’t quite manage it while half bent over and gripping the table. He saw a puzzled look on Eddie’s face. Then Mandy squeezed past them and ran down the remaining stairs.
“Mandy wait!” shouted Paula.
As Mandy stepped through the doorway the two halves shut but not with their usual slow motion. They slammed into her viciously, catching her shoulders a brutal blow. She shouted in pain and dropped to her knees. The doors slid open with a slight hiss. They slammed shut again. She was half turned sideways so one caught her in the back and another in the chest. She dropped to the floor, almost prostrate and tried to shuffle backwards on her knees.
The doors slid open. They slammed shut again. Luckily she had turned more squarely so they hit her in the shoulders. The doors slid open. Bob had dropped the table and leapt down the stairs, cursing himself for not moving faster.
The doors were staying open.
Groaning, sprawled out full length across the threshold, Mandy eased herself back towards the stairs. The doors stayed open.
She moved back until her head was between them.
Bob grabbed her ankles and yanked hard.
The doors slammed shut with a loud clang.
They missed her head by a fraction of an inch.
She was almost unconscious. Eddie took her gently and sat her on a step. Pauline examined her limbs to see if anything was broken. Mandy had her head in Eddie’s shoulder and was crying. He smoothed her hair. Nancy and Caroline stood still in shock. The forgotten table lay awkwardly sideways on the stairs where it had been dropped. Bob turned again to the doorway.
As he watched the doors slid slowly open.
They stayed open, inviting anyone to wander through. Daring anyone to approach.
Is there some malign intelligence at work?
That had been the question.
It seemed certain now that there was.
Bob sat down on the bottom step and put his head in his hands.
Chapter Twelve
The six NHS Direct staff sat on the stairs and glumly observed the doors. They were sheathed in their recesses, silent and menacing. “I’ve never been scared of a door before,” said Eddie.
“Be scared,” said Mandy. She had quieted now and glared at the doorway as if it were her mortal enemy. She had no broken bones but was severely bruised and knew she would feel worse tomorrow.
“We’re back to the same old question,” said Paula. “What do we do next?”
“What can we do?” said Nancy. She was anxiously clutching her long knitted scarf.
“It’s like a mad challenge on one of those management training courses,” said Eddie. “Cross the river using only a box of matches and a balloon. Disarm a tank with pipe cleaners. Escape from the mad building using only a table.”
Bob stood up. “We still have the tables.”
Eddie looked at their material resource, still wobbling on the stairs. “Yes.”
“We can put a table sideways in the doorway and crawl underneath it. The table will hold the doors open.”
“It’s not wide enough,” said Paula. “But it will stop the doors hitting us.”
Bob grabbed the furniture. “Come on, Eddie. We’ll use this one to block the doorway and we’ll get another to smash the next door. Or block it if it opens.”
Paula jumped up. “We can get another table. Come on, Caroline. We can’t let the boys do all the work.”
They ran back up the stairs for the Bank call centre. Bob and Eddie took their table and positioned it just in front of the open doors. “We’ll put it in place when we’re ready to go,” said Bob. He sat on the stairs again and listened to the faint noises coming from upstairs. In his mind’s eye, he pictured Caroline and Pauline clearing a table, wrestling it out of
the call centre. Suddenly a look of alarm crossed his face. “Wait.”
He sprinted upstairs. Caroline and Paula were just easing their table through the broken door and into the corridor. He held his breath. Paula was already through the door. Caroline stepped carefully after her, clutching the heavy table with both hands. When she was passed he heaved a sigh of relief and leaned against the wall.
Caroline looked at him. “What’s wrong?”
He pointed. “The doors. The doors might have opened as you were stepping through the frame. They could have slammed you against the wall, even trapped you.”
Caroline and Paula stared at the closed door in horror. They had stepped through a square frame where the glass had been. There were even a few shards of glass still in one side. If it had slammed open as they came through...
“God.” Paula went pale. “I never even thought of it.”
“I just did, too late. But it didn’t happen. Maybe the malign intelligence is taking a break, or maybe it’s just toying with us. I’m glad you’re okay though.” Bob led the way back down the stairs.
Eddie was sat on the other table, arms crossed. “How do we do this?”
“Block the door,” said Bob. “You go through first. Then the girls crawl underneath. I pass the new table over to you. I come through last.”
Paula looked up at the ceiling.
“What’s wrong?” asked Caroline.
“I was just wondering if there are any shutters to come down on us, but there doesn’t seem to be a place for one.”
“Not on the internal doors,” said Bob. “There will be one on the outside door. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Ready, Eddie?”
“Ready. Keep your hands back from the sides. The doors may attack. God, what a mad thing to say.”
The table was the right way up. Gripping the edge nearest them they slid it forward a few feet so that it sat squarely between the two open doors. There was a foot gap either side of the table. They stepped back. The doors did not move.
“Chocks away.” Eddie got down on all fours and crawled under the table. Immediately the doors began trying to close. They only had a foot to travel. They moved swiftly, savagely, slamming into the table and hitting it every half a second. The noise was like a drumbeat.
“Send the girls through quick!” shouted Eddie.
“Nancy!” The older woman got down on her knees and scuttled through. The table was splintering at the edges. Worse, it was bouncing under the impact and beginning to turn a little.
“Pauline!” The big girl went quickly through. The hammering of the doors continued unabated. The table began to bend upwards in the middle. The legs slanted inwards, no longer sitting square. Bob knew it would not bend far.
“Mandy!” Mandy hesitated and he cursed himself. He should have sent her first. “Go, Mandy! It’s safe. Go quickly!”
She crawled through fast, letting out a kind of shout of rage or defiance. The table top began to splinter, shards of its laminated surface sticking up. The legs were now at a crazy angle but still holding it upright.
“Caroline!” She was looking pale and weak. He grabbed her shoulders. “Don’t faint, girl. Not now. Eddie, get ready to pull her through!” He helped her down and she crawled through, slowly. Right in the middle of the doorway, she fainted. The doors were still slamming repeatedly into the table. Its top was splintering more now and it was bending farther.
Eddie reached in and grabbed her wrists. He pulled her through. “I’ve got her! Come on Bob!”
Bob could see that Caroline was out for the count again. No time to worry about it. He had to get the table through and then himself. Suddenly he heard a laugh behind him. He turned.
On the bottom step was a soldier in a tattered uniform. He was between Bob and the good table. As with the Turk, he seemed to be somehow not really there, like a television program with a bad signal. He didn’t have the same solid reality as the stairs and the walls but he was visible. He was dark haired and his one good eye stared wildly. The other was a black socket, just as Mandy had said. Blood seemed to be coming from a number of wounds on his arms and torso. His head was thrown back and he laughed insanely. Then he shouted.
“You’re all going to die, you Pommy bastards!”
Bob could only stare at him in horror.
Eddie shouted at him. “For God’s sake get through before the table shatters.
“You Pommes sent me and my men to our deaths. Then you build on the site of our remains,” the apparition snarled. “You will pay for that tonight.”
The figure vanished. Bob could only stare wide-eyed at the space it had occupied. He shook himself and turned back to the doorway.
The table was almost broken. Its two halves pointed upwards at forty-five degrees to form a triangular shape. The doors slammed into it so fast, so hard, that it bounced right off the floor. Bob hesitated.
“Come on, Bob! Now or never!”
He got down on all fours. The table was off the ground now and the doors were opening and slamming into it, almost keeping it in place by closing on it every half second. He crawled into the deadly space. The doors slid open and stayed open for a second. The table fell to the ground and toppled forward so that it was in his way. Eddie snatched it aside quickly. Bob yelled and crawled as fast as he could, almost dived forward. Eddie and Caroline grabbed an arm each and yanked him. The doors slammed shut.
Bob screamed in pain.
The doors had slammed shut on his ankle.
Chapter Thirteen
The doors stayed closed, pressing on Bob’s ankle. The pain was indescribable. He yelled again, partly in frustration, mostly in agony. He was face down on the carpet but not really conscious of that, all his awareness focused on his leg. He gripped the carpet and tried to yank it free. The doors held it too tightly.
“Bloody doors!” He heard Eddie yell. He almost blacked out from the pain but was vaguely aware of a banging noise off to his left. It sounded like someone hitting the table against a wall. Next, he heard Eddie stood over him, grunting and cursing.
Suddenly the grip on his ankle was released. He yanked it through and turned over. The door was shut.
Eddie waved a table leg triumphantly. “I used this to lever it open.”
Bob was biting his lip, not sure if his ankle was broken. Nancy knelt beside him and picked his leg up gently. She took off his shoe and sock and rolled up his trouser leg. He winced. The whole area around his ankle, halfway down his foot too, was red and sore. No doubt it would be black and blue shortly.
Sprawled on the floor nearby was Caroline, still unconscious. Pauline was tending to her and looking very worried.
Bob looked at Nancy. “Is it broken?”
“I can’t tell.” She unwound her scarf from her neck and wrapped it tightly around the ankle. Bob winced. “This is the best we can do for now,” she said. “You won’t be able to get that shoe on. Luckily there are rubber seals on the edges of the doors which saved you from a sharp, cutting blow.”
“Lucky you,” said Eddie.
Nancy tapped his leg. “Here, you can help. Hold this end of the scarf so I can pull it tight; the tighter the better. He might be able to walk, just about.”
Bob didn’t want to walk. He wanted to sleep, safe and warm in his own bed. He turned his head to look up at Mandy. “Was that your soldier?”
She nodded. “The same man. Or ghost. I told you he sounded Australian.”
“He seems to be upset.”
“Positively enraged,” said Eddie. “Did we win the cricket again this year?”
“He didn’t get those wounds playing cricket. Are you done, Nancy?” She nodded and put her arms under his armpits to pull him up.
“Let’s see if you can walk.”
Bob stood. Tentatively he put a little weight on the bad ankle. He took a step forward. He winced. The pain was unpleasant but bearable. “I can limp.”
She looked glum. “It will get worse. Wait.” She picked up h
er handbag and rummaged through it, extracted a small foil of tablets. “Paracetamol.” She pressed out two and handed them to Bob.
He looked at them disdainfully for a second then noticed that Nancy was watching him with narrowed eyes. Bob disliked taking any kind of pill but he had often overheard the nurses explaining, usually to male callers and usually in exasperated tones, that if they had a pain they should take painkillers. He winked at Nancy and swallowed the pills.
“Thanks,” he said. “How is Caroline?”
Pauline was still kneeling beside the girl. She looked up and said, “She’s still weak. I think she’s just waking up now.”
As if on cue Caroline blinked and opened her eyes. She groaned. “Where am I?”
“Arnos Hell,” said Bob, and regretted it instantly. “Sorry. I’m a bit down.”
Caroline pulled her legs back and made to stand up. “Easy, girl,” said Pauline. “Take a few seconds if you have to.”
She stood and swayed slightly, blinked. “I passed out again. What happened?”
“We all saw Bruce,” said Eddie. “It turns out he is not a figment of Mandy’s imagination, nor, I think, a stray beggar. He seems to be a genuine, first class, grade A, top of the range malign entity from the spirit world.” Eddie took a deep breath. “He called us pommy bastards. I think he’s upset about the cricket.”
Nancy said, “Eddie is flippant, as usual, but that’s it in a nutshell.”
“I don’t believe in ghosts,” said Caroline. She looked at Bob and he recalled their conversation on the first date when she had mentioned the conflicting belief systems of her parents. She had gone with her father and came to accept her father’s more dogmatic, straight-laced Anglican Christianity. He had believed in Low Church values, good works and a good life, rejecting completely any taint of supernaturalism. Bob wondered how this experience might be affecting her, and then recalled that she had still not seen any ghosts. She kept fainting. Eddie cut to the core of the matter.
“I don’t believe in ghosts either. But we’re still here.”
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