“Got a weapon with you? If it’s a rat you might need to give it a wallop.”
Annie grimaced.
Another thud, just one. Annie moved to the middle of the room and waited. Thud, thud, thud. It was coming from a pile of sandbags. Cautiously Annie walked toward the pile and, one by one, began to heave them down onto the cellar floor. Thud. Thud. It can’t be, Annie thought, surely not. But already hope was blooming in her chest. She went to the wall and thumped it hard, which was answered by three quick thuds and a muffled shout.
“Oh my God, it is! Oh my God! Maeve, get help! I need something heavy, something to bring a wall down!”
She banged on the wall. “Hold on!” she yelled. “I’m coming! John, is that you?” Annie began tearing at the sandbag wall, kicking and rolling them away from her to make a space.
“Maeve said you need help?” came Mark’s concerned voice down the stairs.
“We need to take this wall down. There’s people behind it!”
“I’m sorry? You need to what?” Mark was coming down the stairs. “Have you hurt yourself? Did you bang your head?”
Annie growled in exasperation. “Here, come here!”
Mark did as he was told, stepping over the discarded sandbags.
“Behind this wall is an old smugglers’ tunnel that leads out to the sea. Listen!” She pounded on the wall with both fists and shouted, “John!”
Her banging was returned by three methodical thuds and then, no longer insulated by the sandbags, a more distinct shout, a shout that made her heart leap.
“John,” Mark called through the wall. “Is Alfred with you?”
The reply was muffled but unmistakable. “Yes!”
Annie could have collapsed with relief.
“Well, I’ll be,” said Mark, rubbing his chin before taking off up the stairs. “Never a dull day in the ambulance service!” he shouted, disappearing out of view.
Annie could hear excited mumblings from above. She cast around for something to bash the wall with. John’s tool bag was open on one of the chest freezers; she rooted around in it and found a hammer and chisel. She set at it, lining the chisel up against the cement and hitting the end of it with the hammer. Oh God! she lamented to herself, this is going to take forever! She heard Mark’s footsteps on the stairs.
“Step aside,” he said, brandishing a mallet.
Annie eyed him with surprise.
“You never know what you’re going to need in this job.” He answered her unspoken question with a grin. Mark turned to the wall and banged it with the side of his fist. “Hello in there!” he shouted. “I’m going to break through the wall, so I’m going to need you to move back. Do you understand me?”
There was a muted bang in response, and John’s distant voice came through the wall. “I understand. We’re moving back!”
Mark swung the mallet back and smacked it hard at the wall. The wall wobbled. Bits of cement flew out and skittered along the stone floor. He swung again and again. On the fourth swing, a large crack appeared running diagonally up to what was once the doorframe, and a chunk of several bricks crashed to the ground, splintering into chalky pieces. Behind the hole was not, as Annie had hoped, a vision of John and Alfred, but an old wooden door with iron studs.
“It’s the old door,” Annie said to Mark. “They must have left it in situ for extra flood protection.” Then she banged on the wood. “John, we’re almost through. We’ll be with you soon!”
“Put the kettle on!” came John’s raspy response, and Annie laughed loudly, as though it were the funniest thing she had ever heard.
Carefully Mark and Annie lifted down the loose brickwork at the top and then worked their way down, scooting the remnants to one side, until the door was fully revealed. Mark reached up and attacked the top bolt and Annie the middle. They were stiff with age, but with brute force and wiggling combined, eventually all the bolts were drawn back. Annie gripped the thick ring of the door handle with both hands and twisted hard to release the latch. After a few good tugs, the door hinges relented and slowly the heavy door creaked open.
Chapter 83
A blast of cold damp air whistled over Mark and Annie, like a wraith screeching to freedom; the force blew Annie’s hair off her face. Mark called up the stairs to Georgina. The light from the cellar dappled the floor of the dark tunnel. Annie grabbed up the torch and shone it into the space to find John shakily pulling himself to his feet, using the cold slippery wall to steady himself. Alfred lay unmoving next to him.