Read Online House of Doors by Chaz Brenchley - Free Book Online Page B

various hurts on parade. The one who’d spoken was perhaps the only one who could actually speak; the others she guessed had been contributing their share of noise, but shapelessly.
    Even now, she thought, they were expecting leniency. They thought it was their due.
    They were probably right. The colonel raised an eyebrow, but not his voice at all. He said, ‘Gentlemen. Strictly necessary?’ in a voice that expected the answer yes.
    Expected it, and duly got it.
    â€˜Oh yes, sir. Training, sir.’
    â€˜ Training , Barrows? Do enlighten me,’ in that tone of voice that says I’m looking forward to this, but you should probably not be.
    â€˜Sir. All sorts of things you can do with a kite, sir, in the dark. The major’s had us practising with them for weeks now. And then we had to go up top to fix the blackout, sir, after last week’s storms, so of course we took advantage—’
    â€˜Yes, of course you did—’
    â€˜Of the opportunity , sir, to practise with the kites from the roof there. And then, well,’ he sounded suddenly a little less sure of his ground but carried on regardless, ‘then it just seemed the thing to do, to see if we could make a kite fly in the stairwell here, if we could get up speed enough as we came down, and—’
    And conspicuously not, but conspicuously that didn’t matter any more. The colonel had lost that hint of shared amusement, any sense that they were all lads together underneath.
    He said, ‘Wait. Stop. You have been flying kites, from the roof?’
    â€˜Well, yes, sir  . . .’
    â€˜Is anyone still up there?’
    â€˜Yes, sir. Dumpty’s there. He said he wouldn’t come down with us, on account  . . .’
    â€˜On account of the severe vertigo, I expect?’ The colonel’s voice had become something unexpectedly complex, dealing in justified dread as well as fury. ‘I thought there was one of you missing, and of course it must be him. So you left him up there, did you? On his own?’
    â€˜Uh, yes, sir. He wouldn’t be left behind, when we went up. But, but, he’s quite comfy where he is, quite safe. And he won’t try to move without us, he’s not a fool  . . .’
    True or not, the assertion came too late. The colonel was already on the move, brushing men aside as he headed up the stairs.
    He was a big man, and determined, but not fast on his feet. Ruth could overtake him, while the men below were still wondering whether they ought to.
    In honesty, she wasn’t really certain why she should. But vertigo on a roof did not sound good, and the colonel thought the case serious enough to haul his bulk up flight after flight, as fast as his legs might manage it. Really, that ought to be enough. It was enough. Here she was, ahead of him. On the first floor, and going higher. The staircase not so striking now, all beauty spent; but still grander than anything she’d seen in the way of stairs so far, because this would be where the house guests strayed uphill.
    Up, then, up and up. It was hard, taking stairs at a sprint. Nursing toughened the body, though, as much as the spirit. She could do this. This, at least, she could do. And look up as she went and see a circle of dark, which must have been a fabulous skylight before the war, as wide as the helix of the stairs, a complex circular frame of glass and wood meant to send daylight tumbling downward.
    Now it was all dark, blackened from the outside because how would you fix a blackout from within? But there was a ladder on the topmost landing, rising to a hatchway, a door to the outside. To the roof. And that door was standing open, despite the fact that lights burned below and there was no curtaining, no screen. That would be a reason to fall on the errant patient, scathing and imperious: don’t you know about the blackout, how could you stand here and let this shine up for any passing