January 2nd 2011 – Dalton

Miss Davenport was waiting for them again. This time there was no car park, and she was standing outside the square building, jangling a large bunch of keys in her hand. As she spotted Tom and Charles making their way slowly up the hill towards her, she allowed herself a little smile.

“Here we are again. Let’s hope with a little more success.”

Charles gave an embarrassed smirk.

“Another long shot I’m afraid.”

Tom’s leg was aching badly. The cold snap over the last few weeks was definitely affecting the injury. It was making him more than a little irritable. His despondent mood was compounded by his daughter’s desperate condition. He’d almost not joined Charles today. He was pretty sure this was another proverbial wild goose chase.

There was a small stone staircase leading up the outside wall to an arched doorway. A sturdy wooden door barred the way, but Miss Davenport had the key and had them inside in a few seconds.

“What exactly is it you’re looking for?”

In actual fact, Charles didn’t know. The inside of the room had obviously been renovated many times since it had been built. So what exactly was he expecting?

Feeling a complete idiot he resorted to walking round tapping the walls. Tom shook his head in disbelief. With what he hoped was a heavy sense of irony he joined in, limping round the room striking the foot of the wall with his walking stick.

Charles was thinking these walls must have been examined a thousand times. But a dull thud from the far corner disturbed his thoughts. Maybe they hadn’t been tapped at just above floor level. He turned to Miss Davenport, and pointed to where Tom’s stick had made the strange noise.

“I appreciate it will do the fabric of the building no good. But could we do a little investigation in that area?”

The woman shook her head in resignation. In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought.

“You’ve one hour!”

Charles turned and started to rush outside to his car. Behind him Miss Davenport’s voice could still be heard, floating over his shoulder.

“And you’ll pay for it to be put back as you found it!”

Well under an hour later, Charles removed his head from the gap he’d made in the wall. Miss Davenport and Tom looked at him in amazement. His face was ghostly, white as a sheet. He opened his mouth but the words were strangled.

“It’s here. It’s really here!”