MICHAEL

“Charlotte, you don’t have to do this.”

“I think I do.”

I hold her hand as we stand together at the demolished site of the old Blessingmoors institution. Now a wasteland of rubble awaiting redevelopment in the new City Project, the only pointers to the old buildings are the road layout and a few hard to identify pillars and gateposts. Nonetheless, we believe we are standing on what was once the threshold of the Blessingmoors building.

Charlotte is pale, even more so than usual, and her hand, as I hold it, is clammy. James is here, his face a mask, as he stands, hands in pockets, simply watching, but his eyes follow her everywhere as she steps over the rubble.

The others; Haswell, Stanton, and a variety of investigators in white paper coveralls, also stand by, watching.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I just don’t recognise any of it. There’s nothing here to recognise.”

“Perhaps with your eyes closed?” I suggest. “Start at some known point and see if you can walk in the dark? Keep hold of my hand. I won’t let you stumble.”

She doesn’t speak, simply nodding as she licks her dry lips. She turns to Haswell. “This was the front entrance?”

“Yes.”

Then, closing her eyes, gripping my hand tightly, “I’ll try. I was smaller then, of course. And it was a long time ago.”

Stepping forward. “There were three steps, up into the hallway.” I steady her as she walks.

She continues. “There was a door here.” She indicates ahead. “Then a corridor and another door.” Eyes still closed, she opens invisible doors, walking through unseen halls.

She waves to one side. “That’s a staircase, up to the dorms.” Stanton is beside us now, examining some old document. I glance at him, not liking to ask. He holds up the sheet; a tattered floor plan. As Charlotte speaks, he is comparing her words with the plan, nodding agreement.

We walk a little further. She indicates the other way. That’s the corridor to the kitchens. Two of the cellars came off from there. I think one was an old coal cellar. The other was just general storage.”

Stanton nods. “Yes, we know about those.”

She hesitates, her face churning.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can smell it…. It’s got to be just in my head, but I can smell the place.”

“What does it smell of?”

“….. dust, the children, disinfectant, cabbage…. I don’t know. It’s just how it smelled. I’d never thought about it before, but it feels like….” She pauses, swallowing hard.

“You okay?”

“Yes.”

“Want to take a break?”

“No. I want to do this.”

We keep walking. Everyone is with us now, walking quietly behind us as Charlotte continues her blind walk in the dark.

She waves vaguely ahead of her. The main stairs were here.copy right hot novel pub