After that day, Catherine adamantly refused to go back to Peter’s house and after many arguments on the subject, Charles finally relented to allow her to stay with a friend on the nights he was out of town. And a time or two consented to Catherine having what he considered a trusted friend from school to stay over at their house leaving the two alone together but with the knowledge that the other girl’s parents were only at the other end of a telephone line. In this, he was reasonably happy, though he couldn’t for the life of him understand why Catherine would not go back to Peter’s.

Peter too was suspicious, deciding that while he had been out that night Catherine must have seen something, or heard something that had scared her witless. Though she had been in bed asleep when he had gone to check on her, she had been awfully quiet the following morning, her eyes diverted in the region of the basement whenever he had caught her off guard. Even quizzing his friends from the tunnels had not revealed anything and when they had gone into his basement to collect some fresh dressings for the injured party, the one that hadn’t been able to attend the hospital, the tunnel people had sworn that they had been as quiet as mice. Still he wondered about that blasted door. It had always stuck on closing and only a hefty shove had made it close tight…if Catherine had heard that when he’d been out…well it would provide the missing link to the answer that he sought.

It grieved Peter that Catherine was too afraid to visit him. Though there had been times when her presence at his house had proved nerve racking especially those times when he had been needed below. He would remember all his life, the times that someone had come into his basement and used the telephone extension to call him down for on most of those occasions he had been watching television or in conversation with Catherine and he would have to make his excuses and leave to attend a patient. The thing was he had two options open to him either to sneak out of his house and then sneak back in to go via his basement, the shortest route and the better route for the benefit of his sick or injured patient. Or literally go the long way around that was out of the front door, into his car and up to Central Park, then through the storm drain and into the tunnels. All this took time and often meant him getting a parking ticket too, not that he minded that so much in the face of helping someone, but the worst of it all was the length of time that mode of transport took. So, he’d opt as often as possible for the basement, and that posed the greatest problems. How much had Catherine seen? Or what had she suspected? Whatever it was, it had frightened her enough to prevent her return and try as he might to tell himself it was probably better this way, he couldn’t deny the fact that he missed her. His house of an evening was empty without her bubbly presence and he wished more than once that she would come to stay again. Still Charles had explained to him that Catherine was growing up, something he couldn’t deny as their conversations had attested to. He had felt old when she had related the music of this band and that band, and he could only remember ‘The Beach Boys’ and was surprised that they weren’t still having hits. Catherine had laughed herself silly over that one Peter remembered with a grin as he sat sipping a glass of wine late one evening. He’s been reminiscing all day about his evenings spent with Catherine, and how he had taken for granted what he’d had at the time, or more to the point had been aggravated by her presence in a situation where an outsider didn’t fit. Now, alone, with no call for help from below, Peter missed her young company, her fresh approach to life and he suddenly felt overwhelmingly sad and alone. So much so, that without forethought he found himself reaching for the telephone and dialling the number for the Chandler house, surprised when Charles answered. “Oh you’re home, that’s good. How are you Charles its ages since we spoke?”

He could hear the smile in the other man’s reply, “I take it that’s Peter?”

Peter chuckled, “Oh yes, sorry it is me.” And laughed again, before continuing, “This is a social call, do you have time for general chit chat?”

“Actually we were just sitting down for dinner.” Charles began and Peter butted in, “Oh I’m sorry, I’ll ring back later shall I?”

“No, look why don’t you come over? There’s plenty to eat and we’d be happy to see you. Please join us, that’s if you haven’t already eaten?”

“I have, thank you Charles, but I will take up that offer if you don’t mind. Not to the food, no not that. Tell you what I’ll drive over slowly and by the time I arrive you should be clearing away the empty plates. We’ll sit and chat over a bottle of wine shall we? I’ll bring one with me.”

“Oh yes your home made elderflower I hope?” Charles asked brightly, “I take it you did make some last year?”

“Yes, tons. Its in the basement, I’ll bring you a few bottles, you should have reminded me, I’d have brought some over sooner. I admit to making rather too much of it, last year was a good year for elderflowers, I went a bit mad.” Peter chuckled at the remembrance of his buckets and buckets of elderflowers all over the place. “I’ll be happy to have some space in the basement again.”

“That’s good then. Good for me that is. Bring over as many as you can, okay.” Charles laughed, “Catherine has started to drink it now without falling asleep.”

Peter smiled, as both would remember another time when Catherine had drunk some of his homemade wine, it had gone straight to her head and she had fallen asleep under a table.
The two friends said their goodbyes with a promise to catch up on all the news that evening, and Peter replacing the receiver smiled as the thought of the lonely evening he had imagined he’d have swiftly left his mind.

Merry with wine, Charles and Peter’s faces were wreathed in smiles as they reminded one another of occasions past. It had been too long since the two old friends had spent time together to sit chatting and remembering the past. Caroline figured often in their conversation this evening, and though Catherine sat close by and listened she in no way felt saddened by tales relating to her mother, rather she was whisked away to that enchanted place that mothers share with daughters with memories of her own.

So, Peter had been at the Chandler house several hours before the lapse in conversation turned his attention to Catherine, who trying to hold back a yawn was failing miserably. “We’re keeping you up young lady. You should go get some sleep. We’ll try to keep the noise down.” Peter told her with a grin. “In fact, Charles if you don’t mind, I think its best that I spent the night on your couch, if that’s alright with you? I think I’ve possibly had rather more than one for the road.” He grinned apologetically, knowing that for a doctor he should never allow himself to be over the limit.

“Yes, that’ll be fine. I take it its all locked up over at your place? Alarm on and all that?”

“Oh yes, I did that when I left.” Peter paused there was one thing he’d overlooked though, “If I may use your telephone there is something I’ve forgotten to do.”

“To your house? Sorry I shouldn’t pry. Forget it. Yes of course you may use the phone, you know where it is.” Charles gestured to the other side of the room, where a white telephone graced the cocktail cabinet.

“Can I use an extension, you know out of earshot, it’s a private conversation.”
Peter missed the knowing wink that passed from Charles to Catherine, as their housekeeper joke was shared.

“Yes of course. There’s one in the hall. Catherine can stay here until you’ve finished then she’ll no doubt go to bed, Cathy?”

“Yes daddy, I am tired.” Catherine responded sleepily.

“Then I’ll just be a minute.” Peter exited the room and closed the door behind him leaving Charles and Catherine free to remark in his absence, “What do you think dad? Will the housekeeper be there?”

“At his house you mean? Not sure. Did she often stay over when you were there?”

Catherine shook her head, “Seldom. Most of the time it was just Peter and me.” She shuddered and Charles was quick to notice, “Why did you do that?”

“What?” Bewildered Catherine drew her brows together.

“You shuddered when you told me that there was only the two of you at the house. Is there something else? Something you’re not telling me? Is that why you refuse to go back there?” Charles was instantly worried imagining all kinds of horrors, though he couldn’t imagine that Peter would abuse his responsibility. And if he had Catherine’s attendance around him didn’t display any mistrust. So maybe it was something sinister, like an apparition perhaps.

“Like what daddy?” Catherine tried to ignore the warning bells and make light of his questions with a grin.

“Like a ghost maybe?” Her father asked her deadly serious.

“A ghost! Oh daddy!” Catherine screeched with laughter, all the same he was awfully close to hitting the nail on the head and perhaps it would do her good to get it out in the open now that the opportunity to do so was before her, “Actually…” she began, and Charles picked up on it straight away, “Yes? Cathy what is it? You saw something, didn’t you?”

“Not exactly saw, but daddy there is something in Peter’s basement…” her words trailed away to a shrill whisper, and Charles was unable to question her further because at that precise moment the door handle turned making them both jump as Peter returned. One look at their ashen faces and he chuckled, “Did you two see a ghost? What’s the matter?”

“Nothing!” Both Charles and Catherine cried together.

Letting it go, Peter returned to his seat, something was wrong, but they weren’t about to tell him, well touché, he wasn’t about to tell them why he’d needed the telephone or whom he had to call, so they were quits. Instead he beckoned toward the door, “You’re free to go to bed now honey,” he said looking at Catherine, was he imagining it, or did she looked decidedly unwell all of a sudden?

“What is it?” Immediately, Peter was on his feet crossing the room and laying a hand to Catherine’s brow, “your temperature seems okay, but honestly honey, you look all in… you must be jolly tired. Why don’t you go to bed?”

“I will.” Suddenly Catherine simply had to tell her father everything. If she faltered now, she might never find the courage to tell him again, but with Peter there, dare she? Would it be better or worse if he listened? Maybe he could throw some light on things, perhaps her imagination had been the cause of all the sleepless nights she had had since her last stay at Peter’s house. Mustering her courage Catherine began to speak, “Peter, daddy and I were just talking about your house before you came in.” Did Catherine imagine it, or did Peter’s countenance become defensive all of a sudden? His reply confirmed her suspicions. “What about my house?” He asked with a hint of accusation.

“That’s what I’d like to know.” Charles commented, “Ever since Catherine’s last visit to your house she has been different almost as if she is hiding something, or hiding from something. Cathy, honey won’t you tell us what bothers you so?”

Yes, Catherine thought, I will tell you otherwise I’m going to go quite mad. “Peter, what’s in the basement?”

The direct question stunned Peter, who deciding that if she knew anything she would lead up to it, did not know how to answer. His first thought was to bluff, his second was to laugh his third was annoyance. “What’s it got to do with you!” He flared making Catherine recoil in alarm.

“I’m sorry, it’s got nothing to do with me.” Catherine replied timidly, while Charles at first too stunned to speak by his friend’s sudden outburst finally cried, “How dare you speak to Cathy like that, Peter you should be ashamed of yourself!”

Contrite Peter apologised, “I am, I’m sorry honey forgive me, but you caught me unawares. The things in the basement are confidential, I told you before that there are medical files and all that. Nothing to worry about.” He pacified her then asked, “Why, what did you think was down there?” He had to know what she knew. Her countenance told him there was more to her question than met the eye.

Unable to tell him what she thought he had down there, for appearing downright ridiculous or nosey Catherine replied, “I heard something. A noise, twice, and when you weren’t down in the basement. It frightened me.”

“What kind of noise?” Peter’s mind was racing, he knew that the tunnel folk had free access to come and go into his basement for medical supplies as and when needed. Which was why he’d needed to make that call tonight, to have a helper pass on the knowledge that he wouldn’t be home and that his house keeper was due in early the next morning.

“A bang. It was definitely a bang.”

Alarmed Charles cried, “A gunshot?”

“No daddy, not that kind of bang it was more like that of a door slamming. But there was no one in the house but me, and the basement door was shut. So what was it, Peter?”

Tempted to shrug and say, how would I know, Peter decided against that. Catherine needed answers and answers that would pacify her and prevent her from snooping in the future. “Must have been the window.” He remarked casually, “Its okay, no one can get in because of the bars covering it, but the catch on the window is broken and sometimes the wind takes it to and fro banging it against the frame.”

For the first time Catherine physically relaxed, ‘a window! Of course! How could she have been so silly? A banging window would make sense. “Phew that’s such a relief Peter!” Catherine exclaimed, “I thought you had a monster down there!” Immediately contrite Catherine clapped a hand to her mouth her eyes wide and incredulous as she realised she had given the game away. Charles grinned, “Ah now we meet the crux of the matter, you thought it was a monster all along didn’t you honey, and don’t try to deny it?” He laughed loudly. Peter did too.

“Well, okay I did, but put yourself in my shoes. Peter sneaks off to the basement at all hours, and when he’s not in there, I hear banging. Well not banging, actually it was one loud bang on each occasion. I’m sorry I let my imagination run away with me. I thought you were recreating Frankenstein down there, Peter.” Catherine hung her head apologetically expecting Peter to be annoyed or laugh at least, when he did none of those she looked up to meet his steady gaze, surprised to find that his eyes seemed to hold an apology of their own. He seemed hurt and Catherine detected that he seemed incapable of saying anything further on the subject, almost as if he had slipped away into some secret other world of his own.

“Peter?” Catherine ventured when his silence continued. Charles too was becoming concerned and stole a worried glance in his friend’s direction. When Peter did not reply, Charles touched his friend’s shoulder, “Peter? Is something wrong?”

“What? Wrong? Er, no, nothing’s wrong. Sorry I was miles away, forgive me.” He drew a deep breath and looking directly at Catherine asked, “So I take it you will be happy to return to my house after school again from now on, young lady?”

Beneath her breath, Catherine uttered ‘oh I wouldn’t go that far’ but aloud she asked, “Do you think I might bring a friend over with me? Or is that taking liberties?”

By way of explanation Charles added, “Cathy often has one of her friend’s from school stay over here while I’m away, I think the two have become inseparable, though she would not admit to it.” He finished with a chuckle.

That said, any argument Peter may have made melted away, and he nodded, “I see no reason why not, but just be sure to keep your friend away from the study and basement area, we wouldn’t want to have her going home telling tales would we? I could get myself a bad reputation.” He tried to make light of it, but Catherine saw through his veneer. No matter how well he had disguised it, no matter how unimportant he had made it sound, Catherine still believed that Peter was hiding something from her. Still what did it matter? With a friend at his house Catherine wouldn’t be set for flights of fancy, she and her friend Melanie would have plenty to occupy themselves in Peter’s large house, and the basement area being off limits would pose no problems. No problems at all. A wry grimace passed over Catherine’s face at this thought. Who was she kidding? Every young person loved a mystery and she and Mel wouldn’t rest until they had solved this one. Melanie already knew all the facts and she was as eager as Catherine to get to the bottom of this particular secret. Whatever Dr Alcott was hiding in his basement was set to become public knowledge number one if Mel had anything to do with it.

“Hey this place is neat.” Mel looked appreciatively around Peter’s large house with its three storeys the top of which housed the attic and the bottom the ground floor and then the basement. There was also a first floor where the bedrooms lay each with its own en-suite and television so there was no need to leave that floor, except to eat. Peter did not allow food in the bedrooms, so the three would meet at mealtimes in the kitchen whenever Peter was home and that seemed to be seldom these days. When Mel had first accompanied Catherine to Peter’s house, Peter had made certain he’d been there on each occasion, mainly to vet Catherine’s friend until he was certain he trusted her as well as he might. He was aware that young people possessed the fine quality of pulling the wool over their elder’s eyes, but having much to lose, he knew he would have to know everything about this young lady, before he left her and Catherine alone in the house together.

So finally, when that day came, Mel wasted no time in tracking down the mystery that she had gone there to solve in the first place. Nothing else would have inspired her to accompany Catherine to the old brownstone, for she had better things to occupy her evenings with.

“How long does he usually go out for?” Mel asked as they watched Peter’s car disappear down the street.

“That rather depends. If he’s going to the hospital, it could be hours or all night even. But if he’s on call and visiting a patient, he might be home in an hour. Mel, you aren’t still intent on finding out what’s in the basement are you?” Catherine quaked, unsure that they should pursue this.

“Too right I am!” Mel responded, surprised that her friend had even questioned the fact. “The gang and I are taking bets on it.” She laughed derisively.

“You’ve told someone?” Flabbergasted Catherine could only stand and stare open mouthed at her friend. “I told you not to.”

“Well so what? If it’s as the good doctor says, only files down there, then what’s the problem? Why would we be interested in someone’s old medical files anyway? Not only that…” Mel broke into laughter, “Ever tried to read a doctor’s handwriting? It’s nigh impossible. So, what’s his problem? And its not as if we know the patients is it, the chances of that are very slim. So come on let’s check out his story.”

“And if it is old files, what’s the point? If Peter discovers we have broken in down there I’ll have the humiliating task of explaining why. I think we should forget about it Mel.” Catherine told her friend seriously.

“Well I don’t! Come on Cathy, it’ll be fun. Peter will never know if we hurry.” Mel tugged at Catherine’s arm eager to go downstairs.

“And how do we relock the door behind us, if we’re breaking it?” Catherine asked very unsure. She had never done anything like it before and was nervous.

“I’ve been thinking about that. We might not need to go through the door. In fact, since a broken door would constitute the blame being apportioned to us, it might be better if we go in through that window the one that Peter told you bangs about in the wind. Where would it face, the courtyard or the street do you know?”

“I’ve never thought about it. I don’t know its position, but the basement door faces west, so unless it goes right under the house all the way along, then I guess the window would face the street.” Catherine replied.

“Better and better, though trickier too. A window facing the street could be broken into by anyone. The problem is we will have to take more care not to be seen by anyone. At least we won’t need a ladder, the window should be street level.” Mel was pacing the room making her plan. Finally, she grabbed Catherine’s arm, “Got it, come on, let’s do this thing!” She sounded so excited, but all Catherine could feel was dread, she didn’t like the idea of doing this one bit.

Peter, putting his stethoscope back into its box straightened and gazed down at the patient, “Those pills should work within twenty minutes. Take one every four hours for a maximum of three days. If you don’t feel any better by then, give me another call and we’ll think of something else, but they should work.” “Influenza does that to you. Drink plenty of water and stay warm. Sweating it out is the best policy but we don’t want you to dehydrate. Just call me if you need anything, don’t hesitate okay? I don’t need to tell you that this year’s strain is a pretty nasty little fellow.”

“I expect you’ve seen a lot of it then, with a remark like that?” The mother of the patient asked as she hovered over her son whom Peter had been to see.

“Yes, there’s a lot of it about, but most people are keeping it contained. I prefer to visit the patients rather than have them come to the surgery that only tends to spread the germ to those that don’t have it, naturally it’s the elderly and very young that worry me the most. A dose of the flue can kill them. You’ll be alright though.” Peter hurried to reassure his patient seeing the look of apprehension that passed over his face at that moment, “You’re fit and strong, not to mention middle aged, its rare that a dose of flue takes someone your age out of the big picture.” He chuckled to make light of his words and it had the desired effect, his patient grinned. A fell fledged grin peeping over the top of the blankets drawn up to his chin.

“Well I’ll be going then. Thank you for the tea Mrs Goodwin.”

“No problem doctor, anytime. Thank you for coming so quickly. I was so frightened when I read his temperature.”

Peter nodded, they had already discussed this, and he was eager to get home. He’d had his flue shots but each new strain was always a worry, besides he was afraid that he might become a carrier is he outstayed his welcome. There were no grounds to back that suspicion, but he worried nonetheless.

Moments later he had reached his car, flung his bag onto the seat alongside him, and started the engine. It was eight o’clock, the girls would still be up, no doubt watching television or playing their music and he had no wish to disturb them. Instead, he decided as he had the car he might as well visit his friend Jacob Wells, via the park entrance to the tunnels. He knew that the tunnel children were putting on a music recital and since he was only on call up until eight o’clock anyway before another doctor took over, he was willing to spend his evening relaxing in this way. The tunnel children were so talented and he rarely had the time to partake of their gift.

That decided he headed the car in the direction of the park to the area where he knew he might park without being summonsed and hoped that Catherine and her friend could manage by themselves for another couple of hours at least.

They could. What was more they were grateful of the extra hours, though at the time they had no way of knowing how long Peter might be. With one on the lookout, namely Catherine, who still unsure of what they were doing, had opted for that scaredy cat position and the other, namely Mel intending on doing the breaking and entering. At least that’s what she had in mind. When it came down to it that was not to be the case as she discovered that no matter where she looked for that window, be it from the courtyard or from the street it just did not exist. Talking it over with Catherine watching from the study window where she could get a clear view of who entered the street from the top, Mel decided, “I think our friend the doctor is hiding more than he’s letting on Cathy dear girl. There is no window, which means that whatsoever made that banging noise was not something small made of glass and framed by wood with bars on the inside.”

“Perhaps he’s had it bricked up.” Catherine suggested hopefully. There had to be some logical explanation or why would Peter lie to her and not only to her but to her father as well?

“No chance we’d have seen evidence of that. Nope, face it Cathy, old doc has more to hide in that basement than he’s letting on, and I aim to find out what it is. You coming?”

“Where are you going?” Catherine asked somewhat dismayed. She wished that Mel would let it go, or Peter would return or something would happen that would put a stop to Mel’s plans.

Hands on hips Mel groaned, “To the basement dummy, where else?”

“No.” Catherine shook her head, she couldn’t do it, wouldn’t have anything to do with it, then if Peter asked she could feign ignorance and be truthful, well as near truthful as possible.

“Chicken!” Mel laughed, “Then I’ll go alone. You can stay here as lookout, okay?”

Defeated, Catherine could only mumble ‘yes’ happy to stay put and nervous for what her friend intended and for what she might discover, after all, if Peter really had lied about the window what was he hiding down there? Frankenstein’s image rose before her eyes threatening to scare her witless all over again.

Mel had been gone about fifteen minutes when Catherine heard the first curse emanating from her friend quickly followed by the second and then the third and despite herself Catherine went to investigate. “What’s wrong?” she asked timidly as she approached and saw Mel tugging at the door knob for all she was worth while sliding a credit card down the door jamb.

“It always works in the movies!” Mel snapped breathlessly, “But this door won’t budge!”

“You mean you haven’t tried this before?” Catherine asked incredulously, “By the way Mel had gone about it, Cathy had been left in no doubt about that.

“Course I haven’t you dork! Do you think I go around breaking and entering for kicks all the time? Come and help me. You pull at the handle while I try to slip the lock.”

Nervously Catherine stepped forward. The door seemed awfully large all of a sudden very domineering and challenging. Catherine quaked as she tried the knob, absentmindedly turning it as if she expected it to be open.

“That won’t work!” Mel exclaimed, “Lord, but you can be so dumb girl. He’s not likely to have left it unlocked is he?”

True the door did not open. Catherine felt very foolish, but she had been compelled to try, stranger things had happened. And it would be just amazing if after trying every which way there was to slip the lock the door had been unlocked all the time, in which case they would probably have unwittingly locked it.

When the credit card still would not open the door, Mel grew desperate, “There’s never a crow bar around when you want one is there?” Catherine’s eyes opened wide in horror, “You wouldn’t?” She asked, “Peter would really notice if the door had been forced.” She seemed shocked.

“Not really, that was metaphorically speaking, I wouldn’t really use a crow bar, but there must be something we can do. Are there any spare keys around the place, do you know?”

Catherine shook her head. In actuality there were a spare set that she knew of in the bureau roll top in the study, but she wasn’t about to say so. Mel fumed quietly, tousling the fringe of her hair in trying to decide what to do for she wasn’t going to give up on this. It had become a challenge to her and her disappointment was great. She had been so sure that by tonight she would know the entire contents of that basement and win her bet among her friends, that of the fact that Peter was experimenting on some human element. Whether it was monstrous or not remained to be seen, but Mel felt more and more certain as time went on that she would find human organs or limbs down in the basement and was quite prepared and excited at such a gruesome discovery.

“Give me your hair clip!” Mel’s jubilant cry stunned Catherine, who having decided it was all over on non production of a key, had begun to relax.

“My…hair…clip?” Catherine replied bewildered.

“Yes that thing there!” Mel pulled at the clip making Catherine cry out, “Thanks. Now stand back, I’m gonna do this if it’s the last thing I do!” She wiggled the hair clip inside the lock, this way that way, gritting her teeth as she concentrated, listening for every little click that might signify movement within, yanking on the door handle every time it did. Until finally, finally when neither of them expected it, when Catherine had just decided it wasn’t going to happen and had praised the Lord, it gave. The door slamming back against the wall as Mel let go of the knob in sheer amazement and stunned surprise.

For several seconds, they looked at the gaping hole in the wall as if they were seeing a vortex and just as timidly peeped to see inside. All was dark and there was no telling how many steps led down though Catherine remembered Peter saying it was a long climb back or words to that effect.

“You go first.” Catherine heard herself say hoarsely as she pushed Mel in front, “See if there is a light switch somewhere.”

“You’re coming then?” Mel asked suddenly nervous and trying not to show it. “Thought I was doing this alone?”

“You can do it alone if you like.” Catherine told her friend.

“No, that’s okay, I don’t mind if you come with me.” Catherine grinned, where was Mel’s courage now? Come to that, where was her own? It seemed to have deserted her forever when the evening had begun.

“I should keep a look out for Peter.” Catherine told Mel suddenly amazed that she had forgotten the possibility of Peter’s return.

Mel gasped signifying that she had forgotten it too, “Yes perhaps you should. Wait though, just until I find a light switch, or is there a torch somewhere?”

“In the kitchen.” Catherine told her, “Hold on I’ll get one.” She made to turn and leave her friend to it when Mel suddenly exclaimed; “Its all right there’s a sash” and immediately the well of darkness that had opened up before them was filled with light. Catherine stood and stared as the basement lit up before her noticing straight away that there were only five steps down to the floor and not the spiral staircase to oblivion that she had been led to believe was there.

Not only that but as the two stepped unsteadily onto the first and then the second step down, Catherine believing that was far enough as Mel descended all five, they noticed that the basement was sparsely furnished and devoid of all the endless rows of filing cabinets that Peter had made Catherine imagine had been there.

Disappointed, Mel shrugged, “So what’s the big secret?” She exclaimed, “There’s nothing down here. Well okay so there’s a surgical bed and some cabinets with medicine in, but apart from that….Cathy! There’s no mystery to this!” Mel exclaimed as if everything was Catherine’s fault. “Even the drawers are unlocked.” And as if to prove that point, Mel opened each one in turn showing that they were filled with medical supplies until the last that held some sketches. Children’s drawings Mel supposed, from a child’s wild imagination. She lifted one to let Catherine see, and both agreed that some kid must have a great imagination to sketch a creature that weird.

“So what banged?” Catherine peering into the basement and unwilling to take another step further down asked her friend. Mel looked around, there was nothing that could bang by itself, unless the cupboard door was open and Mel tried it to test the theory recoiling in stunned surprise when she met not a store room as supposed but rather a wall. There straight behind the door was a wall! Catherine gasped as from her vantage point it looked as though the wall was bricked directly behind the door. She was even more surprised when Mel vanished as if she had gone straight through it.

“Mel!” Catherine whispered hoarsely, “Mel!”

Mel returned, “Hey you’ve got to come and see this!” Her face was wreathed in a grin.

Catherine looked back at the door and Mel understood at once, “Hang on.” She left the cupboard and hurried back to Catherine’s side, “I might be able to relock the door. Give me that hair clip again.”

“Relock it!” Catherine gulped, “Mel no! We can’t stay down here.”

“We’ll have to. When you see what I’ve discovered you’ll not want to come back and then with the door wide open the old doc will discover where we’ve gone. Come on, hold it tight for me and I’ll try to get it to click shut again.”

Despite her reservations Catherine did as asked and miraculously because Catherine thought it was impossible, Mel actually got the door to lock again.

“Phew that was easy.” Mel exclaimed, “Now come on, believe me you have never seen anything like this before!”

The wall stood back from the door by two feet maybe three, but was made to appear from certain angels to seem as though the wall was directly behind the door. Possibly the light did it, as beyond the glare of the basement what lay beyond the wall was dark in comparison, and Mel wished now that Catherine had fetched that torch.

“Can you see anything?” Mel asked through clenched teeth as she also began to notice how cold it was down there.

“No, and I don’t like this Mel. We might get lost.” For it had become apparent that they were not in a room but rather in some sort of passageway if the fact that they could put their arms out on either side of them and touch wall, was anything to go by. And Mel was anything but apprehensive about what they had discovered since this was the adventure that she had hoped for.

“Can you hear that?” Catherine asked listening intently, she was certain she could hear tapping, and it didn’t appear to be coming from any particular place, in actuality more as if it were all around them.

“Sounds like water dripping.” Mel replied not at all certain that was so, but knowing nothing else to identify the sound with.

They stumbled on, and Catherine began to wish she had brought something with her that might help them find the way back. Of course, looking back the lights from the basement…Oh no! “Mel, we didn’t turn out the lights!”

“So what we didn’t close the door either. Cathy don’t worry with the basement door locked any discovery Peter makes will just make him assume he left the lights on and the door open by mistake. We need the beacon of light to trace our way back, don’t forget.”

Catherine was surprised that Mel had thought of such a thing, but then decided in all probability she hadn’t, was just using that as an excuse now. Still Mel was right with the basement as the light at the end of the tunnel it was a sure fire way to guide them back.

Nevertheless, Catherine couldn’t quell the nervousness she felt. Wherever they were, wherever that were beneath they had no right to be there. It was possible that they were in the basements of the adjacent brownstones to Peter’s, how would they explain their being there if discovered? How could they be certain that the people living above were friendly? At the back of her mind Catherine consoled herself with the fact that Peter would never visit with people that were anything but, and then the other half of her mind asked the question why he had to go through the cloak and dagger theme, and not use their front door?

However, it was the freezing cold down there that got to Mel before the darkness did, “I think we should go back.” Her announcement startled Catherine who had surmised that they would be in it until the bitter end, while hoping that her choice of word had no real meaning for them.

Great! Thought Catherine, not needed a second bidding, she turned taking Mel with her who had been clutching her hand for the last few minutes, another thing that at the time had startled Catherine, Mel was always so cool about things and Catherine couldn’t imagine that Mel was frightened.

“We’ll come back another day well armed.” Mel was saying. “Coats and boots and torches, maybe some food and drink and pen and paper. And chalk, we should make the way out with chalk, arrows that kind of thing to get back again safely.” She was racing ahead, her eyes bright with enthusiasm though Catherine could not see it in the darkness though could however hear it in Mel’s tone.

“I’d rather we forget all about this, Mel. We shouldn’t be here.”

“Oh stop whining, will you!” Catherine felt Mel push her back as she marched ahead and Catherine stumbled onto her knees cursing as she saw Mel’s silhouette moving forward toward the basement light that shone out around the wall ahead. She tried to pull herself up holding onto the passage wall for support seeking handholds that would aid her and jubilant on finding one hefted herself into a standing position intent on catching Mel up. Suddenly the view of Mel ahead vanished from her sight and she felt herself falling again, only this time, there was no floor beneath her, this time she seemed to be falling through air into nothing. She screamed and heard Mel shout, “Cathy?” from a long way above as she came to a sickening thud on something soft yet firm and heard a strange voice angrily shouting, “Hey, who the hell are you!”

To be continued in part three.

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