think otherwise.”
“Oh yes?”
“Yes. One, if he had returned to the lobby at any time you would have noticed, since you clearly pay close attention to your guests’ movements when they’re down here. And two, I heard a sound when I knocked on his door.”
“Oh.”
This little revelation seemed to shut her up for a moment. I watched her reaction, and it occurred to me that I was never going to connect with Meg. Despite the equal tedium of our jobs we had nothing in common. She looked at me as though she was the keeper of a particular secret that I had no right to whatsoever.
“Maybe we should check together?” Meg suggested.
This time it was my turn to narrow the eyes. The offer of help came a little too quickly for my liking. But how could I turn down such help? I needed to know what had happened to Mr. Wyndham.
“That would be…ideal,” I said, once I had decided on the most innocuous word I could think of.
She reached under the desk to retrieve something. I couldn’t see what it was, since by the time she returned to an upright position she had deposited it into the back pocket of her skirt. She joined me on the other side of the desk and I motioned her to lead the way. Although she was a good foot shorter than me, and a much smaller build, I still didn’t like the idea of her walking behind me. Let alone beside me. I followed her towards the lift.
“I’d rather we took the stairs, actually,” I said just as she pressed a thumb against the call button.
“It’s only a lift,” Meg said with a small laugh. “Do you have claustrophobia?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s not that.”
“What is it, then?”
How could I explain to her? There was something very wrong about this lift. I had no idea what, but I instinctively knew something was up. Another of the conclusions I had drawn between the time I left the first floor and returned to the lobby. As I looked at Meg more closely I came to the realisation that she probably had a good idea anyway.
The lift doors opened. Meg waved me in. I eyed her, wondering if I should let her know that I knew something was wrong with this picture. No, not yet. No need to play my hand. Once I saw inside Mr. Wyndham’s room, sure, but not before then.
“Very well,” I conceded and walked over to the lift. We stepped inside at the same time. I looked around. It was a normal lift, nothing special about it. Just a typical metal box lit from above, with the floor and emergency buttons to the left of the doors. I smiled. Perhaps I was being a little paranoid after all. Someone probably just pressed the buttons before leaving the lift, hence why it opened when no one called it.
The door began to close and I started to settle into that comfortable reasoning. Just then, at the worst possible moment, Meg decided to slip out of the lift. I dashed forward, but wasn’t quick enough to prevent the doors from meeting in the middle. I stabbed at the door-open button but there was no response.
I spun around, shocked by the abrupt movement of the lift. It was going down. I swallowed hard, doing my best to control my breathing. There was no lower ground floor or basement button, and yet I was most certainly going down.
I closed my eyes. My gym instructor had shown me some meditation techniques, and I just prayed they would be enough to calm me as the metal box and I descended to God-knows-where.
*
Eventually the lift came to rest. As I neared my unwanted destination I could have sworn I could smell burning. Not the fumes of a simple fire, rather the same smell you got when you accidentally burned the hair on your fingers when lighting a stove with matches.
With my nostrils full of that smell, my heart started thumping harder as the doors slid open. Whatever was coming next was something to be dreaded, and I surely did. I pulled back, pressing myself against the far wall of the lift as much as was possible. I wanted to get a good look at what was beyond the doors before
“Oh yes?”
“Yes. One, if he had returned to the lobby at any time you would have noticed, since you clearly pay close attention to your guests’ movements when they’re down here. And two, I heard a sound when I knocked on his door.”
“Oh.”
This little revelation seemed to shut her up for a moment. I watched her reaction, and it occurred to me that I was never going to connect with Meg. Despite the equal tedium of our jobs we had nothing in common. She looked at me as though she was the keeper of a particular secret that I had no right to whatsoever.
“Maybe we should check together?” Meg suggested.
This time it was my turn to narrow the eyes. The offer of help came a little too quickly for my liking. But how could I turn down such help? I needed to know what had happened to Mr. Wyndham.
“That would be…ideal,” I said, once I had decided on the most innocuous word I could think of.
She reached under the desk to retrieve something. I couldn’t see what it was, since by the time she returned to an upright position she had deposited it into the back pocket of her skirt. She joined me on the other side of the desk and I motioned her to lead the way. Although she was a good foot shorter than me, and a much smaller build, I still didn’t like the idea of her walking behind me. Let alone beside me. I followed her towards the lift.
“I’d rather we took the stairs, actually,” I said just as she pressed a thumb against the call button.
“It’s only a lift,” Meg said with a small laugh. “Do you have claustrophobia?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s not that.”
“What is it, then?”
How could I explain to her? There was something very wrong about this lift. I had no idea what, but I instinctively knew something was up. Another of the conclusions I had drawn between the time I left the first floor and returned to the lobby. As I looked at Meg more closely I came to the realisation that she probably had a good idea anyway.
The lift doors opened. Meg waved me in. I eyed her, wondering if I should let her know that I knew something was wrong with this picture. No, not yet. No need to play my hand. Once I saw inside Mr. Wyndham’s room, sure, but not before then.
“Very well,” I conceded and walked over to the lift. We stepped inside at the same time. I looked around. It was a normal lift, nothing special about it. Just a typical metal box lit from above, with the floor and emergency buttons to the left of the doors. I smiled. Perhaps I was being a little paranoid after all. Someone probably just pressed the buttons before leaving the lift, hence why it opened when no one called it.
The door began to close and I started to settle into that comfortable reasoning. Just then, at the worst possible moment, Meg decided to slip out of the lift. I dashed forward, but wasn’t quick enough to prevent the doors from meeting in the middle. I stabbed at the door-open button but there was no response.
I spun around, shocked by the abrupt movement of the lift. It was going down. I swallowed hard, doing my best to control my breathing. There was no lower ground floor or basement button, and yet I was most certainly going down.
I closed my eyes. My gym instructor had shown me some meditation techniques, and I just prayed they would be enough to calm me as the metal box and I descended to God-knows-where.
*
Eventually the lift came to rest. As I neared my unwanted destination I could have sworn I could smell burning. Not the fumes of a simple fire, rather the same smell you got when you accidentally burned the hair on your fingers when lighting a stove with matches.
With my nostrils full of that smell, my heart started thumping harder as the doors slid open. Whatever was coming next was something to be dreaded, and I surely did. I pulled back, pressing myself against the far wall of the lift as much as was possible. I wanted to get a good look at what was beyond the doors before
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