Jay, Lizzie and the Tale of the Stairs

by G J Lee

  Chapter 42

  The Great Escape

  Soon we were back in the cupboard and scraping at the cement between the bricks, trying to make as little noise as possible. I was using the only blunt nail that was left but Lizzie had swiped a knife from one of the tables and was using it to get right in underneath the bricks. We all thought that, pretty soon, if I tried one of those kicks again some of the old bricks would be loose enough to be pushed through and out the other side. It would make a hole just large enough for us to wriggle through. Where we would escape too was another matter. But we had to get out and get help.

  So we scraped and prodded and dug.

  And someone else did the same in a distant part of the underground shelter.

  And the Junction Sphere hummed quietly far off like some contented bee. I mean, it wasn’t threatening or anything. The constant hum made us feel that there was at least something beyond our cupboard. Something human, however twisted. To us it acted in the same way the glow of an old-fashioned electric fire makes a dark winter room cosy. Or the sound of a fridge in the kitchen lets you know that there’s food within easy reach.

  At some point Lizzie stopped scraping and gazed long and hard at the dirty carpet. I could see that she was deep in thought so I stopped too. Rosie, who had been trying to clean the brick dust that we had loosened from the already filthy floor, also stopped.

  For a while all we could hear was the hum of the J-Sphere and the thud as building or demolition or whatever continued. It sounded like a distant giant taking a distant walk.

  “I recognise that man from somewhere,” Lizzie said quietly.

  “What man?” asked Rosie.

  “The old man Jay and I saw in the shelter. The one with the walking stick.”

  Me and Lizzie had described our little trip to the shelter to Rosie who had listened but not really understood.

  “Where…have…I…seen…him…?” she said slowly to herself, softly tapping the knife she held against the carpet in thought.

  Then, quite suddenly, her head snapped up and her eyes met mine. “But it can’t be,” she exclaimed, more to herself than anybody else. It seemed that Lizzie didn’t want to believe the man we had seen was who she thought it was.

  “Who can’t it be?” I asked her, to help her out.

  “But he died at the end of the war. Killed himself and his girlfriend.”

  “Who did?”

  A pause. Then: “Adolf Hitler”.

  Did I just hear that? I wasn’t sure. So I asked again. “Who?”

  “Hitler. Adolf Hitler”.

  A longer pause as the J-Sphere hummed and the giant strolled on.

  Obviously I’d heard of Adolf Hitler. I mean, who hasn’t. He was the nastiest piece of work that had ever existed. Although Mr Butler said it was open to debate, I’d seen films and heard about what he’d done and what he’d started.

  He was evil alright.

  “Are you seriously suggesting,” I said to Lizzie, “that that old man was…was…” - I couldn’t even say it - “Adolf Hitler?”

  Lizzie was still looking at me. “Yes.” She said this quietly. She still didn’t believe it herself.

  “Impossible!” I blurted out. I looked away. Looked back at her again. “Isn’t it?”

  “Well it all makes sense,” she replied, still tapping the knife. “He tried to take over the world and failed, something like Dr Meen was saying. But now with the J-Sphere and the help of these Fathers, who knows what might happen.”

  I shook my head. I still didn’t think it was possible. But then I remembered the theories that we had talked about in history – conspiracy theories or something – and how famous people could have faked their deaths just to escape being famous. I remembered Dad reading out an article in a newspaper where somebody had seen Elvis Presley at a football match and some people think 9/11 and the existence of aliens is a cover up. All conspiracy theories.

  My point is it could be true.

  Couldn’t it?

  Now we returned to our only means of escape with a new energy, determined to get out and tell people about what might be going on here, right under their noses. As we worked all three of us were lost in our own thoughts. About what we had said and what we thought it might mean. Not just to us but to millions of people now and in the future.

  It didn’t take long before we had three bricks wobbling and moving about.

  Soon we could move five or six and it was then that we realised that, if we wanted, we could push some of the bricks through. But we didn't. What we did was stop. When our plan to rescue Rosie had gone wrong we had learned some valuable lessons. We had to wait. We had to think. We had to plan.

  “How long ago was it, you know, when we were with Dr Meen in the shelter?” I asked Lizzie.

  Lizzie shrugged. “Not sure. Four or five hours ago?”

  “Did you see any light from outside?”

  Lizzie shook her head. “No. I didn’t.”

  I leant my head back against the rough bricks that we had been working on. The sounds of scraping and digging and the hum of the J-Sphere were all I could hear. “Then we need to wait and get some rest. It might be day now. We can’t escape during the day.”

  “Why?” Lizzie asked.

  “Well…because…well…you just can’t. Have you never heard of escaping under cover of darkness and all that? They’ll see us in daylight. There are films. I’ve seen ‘em.”

  “Well, why don’t we make sure it’s dark,” said Lizzie.

  “How?”

  Lizzie nodded at the wall behind me. “Take one of the bricks out and have a look.”

  So we identified the brick that we thought would be the easiest to remove. Then me and Lizzie worked together with the knife and the blunt nail to try and work it towards us rather than let the brick fall out into the passageway where it would attract attention. Our fingers were numb, fingernails were cracked and split and it took a lot of work but eventually we started to lever the brick away. Part of it began to crumble and I began to worry that we would never get the brick back unnoticed.

  When it finally came away we realised there was some weak plaster remaining on the other side so we couldn’t actually see anything. I decided to use the blunt nail to jab a small hole through. It’s true that I did make a hole just big enough to see out.

  We could see the dimly lit hallway running away to a blank wall at the far end. There were two doors set on either side. The door on the right was shut but the other door was open and we could see a heavy pair of dark curtains pulled tightly together. Still, we could just make out fingers of light softening the edges of the thick material.

  We decided to wait.

  Trying to put the brick back wasn’t easy then Rosie surprised us by suggesting that we break the brick up and put back just enough to cover the hole. That would make it much easier to watch what was going on outside in the passageway. To be honest there wasn’t much traffic out there. While we waited - and when we weren’t watching – we heard the clump of shoes passing by outside and we all got nervous about someone noticing the little bit of mess we must have made on the hallway floor. But no-one came and when we peeked out through the hole we saw nothing. Just an empty corridor and two doors. One shut.

  Later we realised that the light around the curtains seen through the open door had got brighter. This meant that it must have been early morning or something when we had first looked. It seemed that the sun was shining.

  So we waited and I imagined blue sky and warm sun on my face.

  The three of us were now really hungry, tired, thirsty, and we all needed a good bath. Rosie more than anybody. She really couldn’t remember how long she had been a prisoner. We tried to get some sleep but I started thinking of Mum, Dad, Kyle and Beth and wondering if I should be back at school yet. It seemed like I’d been away from them for ever.

  Then I thought of Beth again, and looked at Rosie. Thought about Beth again, looked around the room then glanced slyly
at Rosie. Strange. If Rosie had blonde hair…

  Then I thought about the Aunt and Uncle Rosie had talked about. Surely somebody had missed her? Surely somebody had called the police? When I looked at her she seemed so sad and lonely. It was like she didn’t have a friend in the world.

  I’d never seen her smile once.

  Then I thought of Maureen and Pauline and how they must be beside themselves with worry. Just where were the police? Why hadn’t anybody arrived to rescue us, like in the films? Then that thought again, that life wasn’t like the films. People died, were cruel to each other and loads of other nasty stuff. Often they got away with it.

  Like Adolf Hitler.

  I had an idea of what he had been responsible for. World wars. Massacres. General cruelty. If that was him out there then he’d got away with all that. He hadn’t suffered the consequences. In fact, he had not learned his lessons. He was out there planning to do it all again.

  And I thought of what Albert had said about everybody being responsible for each other’s actions. That everybody is connected. That if one person does a bad thing then we’re all to blame. And I knew that he’d been right. Hitler wasn’t doing what he was doing on his own. He had The Face and Hanz and Dr Meen to help him and there were dozens of people out there raising their glasses and saluting him.

  So we had to stop him. It was up to us. We couldn’t leave it to somebody else. We couldn’t just stand by and watch.

  We had to help. We had to do something!

  Lizzie was dozing, her head hanging loose to one side. I gently shook her awake.

  “Lizzie! Wake up!”

  She was awake in an instant. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

  “It’s fine,” I said to sooth her, “but we need to go. Now!”

  So we got ready to go. I loosened the small piece of brick and peered out into the hallway.

  Nothing. Empty. I looked in the direction of the open door and the window then replaced the bit of brick. In frustration I leant back against the wall.

  “What’s the matter?” Lizzie asked, concerned.

  “The door,” I sighed, “it’s closed. I can’t see the window so I can’t tell if it’s day or night.”

  A tense silence followed but Lizzie broke it by saying what I suppose we were all thinking. “Well, we have to go now. We have no choice. By the looks of it things were getting pretty hairy down there in the shelter. I don’t think it’ll be long before somebody makes use of that sphere thing.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “You’re right.”

  Then Rosie said something that we didn’t quite hear.

  “I beg your pardon?” asked Lizzie.

  “It must be destroyed.”

  I glanced at Lizzie then back at Rosie. “You mean the J-Sphere?” I said.

  Rosie nodded. “Yes. It must be destroyed. It must be destroyed now!”

  “We know, but we have to get help to do it,” Lizzie told her. “We can’t do it on our own. We’re children.”

  “We can and we must,” Rosie replied, staring into space.

  And that’s when I really saw Beth in Rosie. That hypnotic, determined look on her face and Beth might just have been sat opposite me, organising and making plans.

  But for now I agreed with Lizzie. “Rosie, we have to get out first. OK?”

  No reply.

  We had to go. We couldn’t wait any longer. I laid on my back and raised my legs.

  “Right, as soon as I make a hole big enough we make for the front door quietly.” We had already discussed this but I had to make sure. “If the door is locked then we make for the nearest window. Clear?”

  “Clear!” Lizzie echoed.

  “Clear!” mumbled Rosie.

  “Ready?” I added.

  “Ready!” said Lizzie.

  “Ready!” repeated Rosie half-heartedly.

  I gritted my teeth and brought my feet down on the middle of the wall.

  Thud!

  The wall vibrated and some dust fell to the carpet but the wall held firm.

  So I tried again.

  Thud!

  And again.

  This time several of the bricks moved outwards.

  I stopped and we all listened to the sounds of scraping and digging and the hum of the J-Sphere in the distance. With a bit of luck our attempts at escape would be mistaken for the work on widening the shelter.

  So I kicked the wall three times – hard! This time the bricks we had managed to loosen were pushed out and fell with a thud into the hallway. We had no time to lose. The three of us scrambled forward and started to loosen dusty bricks with our sore hands. It didn’t take us long to create a hole wide enough to squeeze through. I let Lizzie go first. Then Rosie. Then me. Before long we were all stood up in the hallway, the mess we had made collected around our feet.

  We listened.

  Still nothing.

  I grabbed Rosie’s arm. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here!”

  Our little group moved slowly, quietly down the dim hallway, turning into the part of the house that would lead us to the front door. All the time we looked and listened as we expected to be discovered at any minute. Some doors were open. Some were closed. As the big front door came into view we could see the kitchen just beyond it. The kitchen held the window where Lizzie was grabbed on that first visit. It seemed the kitchen was popular with the people who inhabited this old house as, even now, we could hear the bubble of soft conversation, sometimes interrupted by a bark of laughter.

  Like soldiers on a secret mission we knelt down to talk, making sure we were screened from the kitchen by the hallway wall.

  I could see our escape. We were so close I could literally taste freedom on my lips.

  “Right,” I whispered to the two girls, “stay here. I’ll check the front door.” And before they had a chance to argue I tip-toed to the front door.

  As I drew nearer I kept an eye on whoever was in the kitchen. I saw the back of who I believed to be Hanz. He was talking to a woman. I couldn’t see the woman. She was out of sight. When I reached the door I made a grab for the latch. The latch opened but when I tried to open the door it stayed closed. Looking for reasons I realised that there was a key hole further down and I could see that it was locked through the gap between the door and the frame.

  I needed a key.

  I was quickly back to Lizzie and Rosie, whispering the bad news. We all agreed to try the nearest door, get into a room then get out of the window. There was one nearby but, again, the door was locked. In fact every door on this level was closed and locked. There was no way out. We retraced our steps to the small hole in the cupboard wall and knelt and whispered.

  “What now?” I asked Lizzie urgently.

  Lizzie shook her head. “I really don’t know.”

  This was bad news.

  Then Rosie spoke again, quietly, as if what she suggested might be ignored. “The J-Sphere.”

  We both looked at Rosie.

  “We know it leads directly to your time,” she said, “so why don’t we use it to get there.”

  It was a good idea. The only one so far. But there was a problem.

  “You do realise,” I told them both, “that there’s all sorts of things that might happen. We’ve got to get to it first and then The Sphere might be destroyed after we use it or whatever and…well…if that happened you might both be stuck in my time.”

  Rosie and Lizzie looked away as they both thought about this.

  “I can bring us back,” Lizzie said enthusiastically. “You know I can travel through time.”

  Knowing where the J-Sphere was positioned – going up through the Raynors’ stairs and into my bedroom – I doubted this now. I told Lizzie that it had probably been the Sphere allowing her travel between times all along.

  “I don’t see any other way,” said Lizzie shaking her head. “I think Rosie’s right. The J-Sphere is the only way out.”

  At that Rosie tugged at my sleeve. “We need to destroy it now
. We haven’t got the time to get help.”

  “I know, Beth,” I told Rosie, “I know.”

  “What? Who did you call me?”

  “No-one. Nothing

  Remembering the way was difficult but eventually I recognised the old door set in one of the walls. We all held our breaths as I tried the handle.

  To our relief it turned so I opened it slightly. Just a crack.

  The door opened, creaking like a coffin lid, and a chill, damp breeze rose up and touched our faces. Immediately the hammering, digging and the hum of the J-Sphere became louder. I closed the door and gave Lizzie a worried look. She gave me a ‘do we have a choice’ kind of shrug, so I opened it once more and we all slipped through the crack and tip-toed into the cold darkness below.

  Our shoes clunked on the wooden stairs and I had to ask myself, with all the noise and mess that we were making, how no-one had discovered us by now. When Rosie closed the coffin lid door behind us we were plunged into almost complete darkness. Like worried birds for a moment we stopped and listened to the noises below and our own anxious breathing.

  I was terrified, I can tell you.

  Then I felt one of Lizzie’s fingers prod me forward. I crept slowly. Carefully. Quietly. And we made our way down the wooden stairs.

  Reaching the bottom I led the way through the cellar and out into passageways that smelled damp and earthy like graves. We headed towards where I thought the metal door had been. At one point Rosie got really scared and stopped. I forgot that this was her first trip into the shelter. Lizzie whispered something to reassure her and we were moving again, listening to the hammering and the digging and the hum of the J-Sphere with every step.

  Suddenly the metal door leading into the shelter came into sight. I remember thinking that this was going to take some thinking about when, just as suddenly, the door swung open and a man and a woman stepped through, closing the door with a clang that echoed down the corridor. I pressed myself against the beams holding up the crumbling walls.

  “Somewhere to hide,” I whispered in a panic. “Now!”

  We looked around us but there was nothing, just walls of damp soil. Then I remembered the dark corners of the cellar. I waved Rosie and Lizzie back the way we had come. Scrambling back to the cellar we looked for somewhere to hide. The boxes I had noticed before were still there and, further back still, there were some larger wooden ones. We made our way quietly around the smaller boxes and tucked ourselves in behind these big, heavy crates. When we crouched down we realised that the concrete floor was wet and smelled like old drains but I was confident we wouldn’t be seen. That didn’t stop my heart from racing again though. As the couple shuffled into the cellar I thought its thumping was bound to be heard. The three of us managed to control our breathing and listened hard, wishing the couple would pass by quickly.

  But they didn’t.

  We heard them stop and talk quietly in German. The man seemed upset about something. His words were shaky, emotional, concerned. The woman was different. She was reassuring, soothing, seemed caring. We could hear their shoes dragging noisily over loose bits of concrete as they talked. Although we wished them gone they stayed for so long that I risked a peek. Slowly, carefully, I raised my head until my eyes were peering over the metal lip of the wooden crate.

  I could see the man and woman clearly in the dim light. He was stooped, with one hand clasping his other arm behind his back. His free hand held onto the walking stick. She was looking down at a small bunch of purple flowers held delicately in her hands. She reminded me of a little girl talking to her Father or Grandfather. I did recognise them though. They were the man and woman we had seen saluted earlier. As I watched the woman reached up and touched the man’s face in such a caring way that I knew they must be in love. He seemed to nestle into the touch in the same way a pet might to its favourite stroke. Again she muttered something to him, quietly like falling leaves, and he nodded in reply. Then his head turned slowly in my direction and I had to duck down, pretty sure that he hadn’t seen me.

  This was the man that Lizzie thought had looked like Hitler. My curiosity got the better of me. I had to look again.

  So I did.

  And my head rose slowly over the edge of the box like the silent periscope of a submarine.

  I didn’t expect to see the man only feet away. He was literally staring directly at me.

  I ducked down. This time I was positive that he had seen me. The blood flooded around my system and pounded around my ears. How the hell did he get so close without any of us hearing him? Surely he must have seen my luminous grey in the darkness? I would have been lit up like a Christmas tree.

  I brought my knees up tightly and waited for the hand on my shoulder and the voices of discovery.