Maud had heard them all come in, and her heart leapt. She edged cautiously to the door and listened. With a shiver of fear and anger, she recognized the three voices. Matron Prout, Bryony Sullivan and Dr Glass. The very three people she prayed would not come! The very ones who would recognize her!
She frowned, thinking hard. Even though her beautiful plan for putting Nell Kendal into Latchkill was going to fail, there was nothing to prevent Maud herself from getting away. Was there?
It sounded as if someone was in George’s room now–was it Bryony? Yes, that was surely her voice crying out in shock. Then there was the sound of running footsteps, going back down the stairs. Within a couple of minutes the footsteps returned, and this time Maud definitely heard Bryony’s voice and also Dr Glass’s. Might they come up here after all? This was getting a little dangerous–she ought not to have stayed in the house after all.
Maud glanced back into the attics. If anyone did come up here it should be possible to hide somewhere. In one of the corners? Behind the water tank? She still did not like the tank much, but if it was a choice between that or being dragged back to Latchkill…
She began to move warily across the floor, trying not to make the old timbers creak under her feet because if Bryony or Dr Glass heard that they would know she was here. She moved round the piles of household jumble, testing each floorboard before putting any weight on it. Back and back…almost there. They’re about to find Plumtree’s body.
Maud’s heart was hammering against her ribs–or was it her heart? She frowned, listening. Wasn’t it Thomasina and Simon again? Tap-tap…Tap-tap…
Anger mixed with despair flooded over her. She thought those two had gone. Surely they must be dead by this time? But they were not dead; they were still hammering to get out of Twygrist…Tap-tap…Maud put her hands over her ears to shut the sounds out. In Latchkill that had blotted them out very well indeed, but it did not do so tonight. Was that because Toft House was nearer to Twygrist than Latchkill? Was it because Thomasina and Simon were getting nearer to the surface? She closed her eyes, but that was worse because they were both there in the darkness behind her eyelids–their hands were worn right down to the wrists now. Thomasina turned her dreadful, hollow-eyed face to Maud, and said it did not matter at all: the bones of their arms were making much better hammers. They would soon be out, and then they would come to find Maud…
She was pressed up against the water tank by this time; she could feel the surface against her arm, cold and faintly damp. When she knocked against it with her hand there was the faint slop of water inside. Horrid.
Footsteps were coming up the attic stair now; if she did not hide properly she would be caught. She shrank right down onto the floor, folding her arms tightly over her head. If only Thomasina and Simon would be quiet for a while she could concentrate on remaining hidden, and on what she would do when she escaped.
But Thomasina and Simon would not be quiet; they banged harder and harder, and the banging became mixed up with the too-fast beating of Maud’s heart, and with the faint sinister lapping of the dark cold water inside the tank. Maud suddenly saw she might never be free of those two, it might take years and years for them to batter their way out of the kiln room. Years and years, during which Maud would know they were getting nearer and nearer…
She huddled into the tiniest space she could, and was trying so hard to shut out the sounds she did not hear Daniel and Bryony open the door and cross the dusty attic floor to where she crouched.
She hardly felt the sting of the needle, but as the chloroform spun her down into oblivion, she was blessedly aware that the hammering from Twygrist’s bowels had finally ceased.