The Eighth Court (The Courts of the Feyr - By Mike Shevdon Page 0,137

out, they won’t know we’re in there.”

“Yeah, cause no one ever hides in the toilets,” said Alex. “It’s the first place they’ll look. Haven’t you seen any movies?”

“There’s no need to be mean,” said Charles. His father was something in the city, apparently, though that meant little enough to Alex. “She’s only trying to help,” he told Alex.

“And they can see in the dark,” said Alex, ignoring him. “Through here,”

“Where does this go?” asked Megan, following Alex through a maze of passages at the back of the house.

“Those are sculleries, and that’s the gun room. There are stables at the back, converted into offices. There must be another exit here somewhere.” She led the way through.

“Why don’t we go to the gun room?” asked Charles. “We can at least arm ourselves. I can use a shotgun.”

“Do you know how to work a matchlock?” asked Alex. “No, I thought not. Besides they don’t leave working guns lying around in National Trust properties. It’s not the done thing. Shut the doors behind you,” said Alex.

“Why?” asked Debbie. “What if there is something down here and we need to get out this way?”

“You hear that sound?” said Alex. The screaming from behind them was suddenly choked off. “That’s you, if you go back that way. Close the door, it might slow them down.”

“Can we lock it?” asked Megan.

“There’s no locks on the internal doors. My dad said you can seal a door if you know how. Anyone know how?” One after another they shook their heads. “Keep moving,” said Alex, “and hope they’re not coming around the outside and waiting at the back to intercept us.”

“You think that’s likely?” asked Megan.

“You have a better idea?” asked Alex.

When she reached the office, she pulled them through and shut the door behind them. The door had a Yale lock, which she clicked shut and latched closed. “It won’t hold them,” she said. “Help me move this.” She stood one side of a low bookcase and she and Charles manoeuvred it across the door. “This isn’t heavy enough,” she said, pulling out an A4 file with loose paper in it. “Find something bigger.”

“Like what?” said Charles, exasperated.

“Did you find the exit door?” Alex said to Megan as she emerged from the other room.

“It’s locked,” said Megan.

“So unlock it,” said Alex. “It’s not hard.” She pushed past Megan into the adjoining office. At the end of the office was a single door labelled Fire Exit. It had one of those quick release bars. She pressed it and the lock flipped open but the door didn’t move. “It’s a fire exit,” said Alex. “It’s not supposed to be locked.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” said Megan in an irritated voice from behind her.

Alex pressed her hand on the door and concentrated. The lock flipped open on its own, but the door stayed resolutely shut.

“Break it down,” said Alex to Charles, pointing at the door.

“What?” said Charles.

“You’re a man!” said Alex. “Do manly things. Break it down.”

Charles exchanged glances with Debbie and Megan, and then took a few paces back and shoulder-charged the door. He met it with a solid thump and the door shuddered but remained closed.

“Again,” said Alex. Charles hit the door again, but with no greater effect. “Keep going,” said Alex.

“It’s not your shoulder,” said Charles.

“It’ll be more than your shoulder if we don’t get that door open,” said Alex.

“I read somewhere you’re not supposed to shoulder charged doors. You’re supposed to kick them down,” said Debbie.

“You want to try?” said Charles to her.

“I was just thinking of you,” said Debbie, resentfully.

Nevertheless, Charles changed tactic and stood in front of the door and kicked it with all his might. There was a bigger bang but no greater effect. “There’s something on the other side of it,” said Charles.

“Hold the lock open while he kicks it,” said Alex. A dull thump came from the other room. “Shit!” said Alex. “Get that door open. I don’t care how.”

Back in the first office, the door thumped again. The bookcase shook, and files fell out onto the floor. Splits appeared in the wood around the lock. Alex rushed to the door, putting both hands on it. “You’re a wall, not a door. You don’t open, you hear me!” The door thumped again, and this time it held.

“That was timely,” said Megan, trying to pull a desk across to bolster the bookcase. They watched the door lock flip open and closed, open and closed. Alex put her hand over it, and