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just in the hallway every so often.
    I kept away from the tenants, partly because I was the landlord and partly because I didn't want to hear, see or know anything that someone working at Whitehall shouldn't. Tom made that easy by spending most of his time away on digs or on secondment to other universities. At least that was what it said in the emails he sent letting me know he'd be away for a week or three. I always thought he was a nice guy, but like me, he kept few possessions here. There are some textbooks on ancient cultures, some others in Mandarin or Cantonese, a massive collection of DVD box sets, and the usual bric-a-brac we all collect. Almost none of it of any use.
    Almost. I said almost. He had a torch, a Superman one. By which I don't mean it's super strong with a beam that can travel a thousand miles and set fire to nearby bushes. I mean it's red and blue plastic with “The Man of Steel” printed on the handle. It's either a cheap kids toy or a geeks very expensive collectable, which I guess is why he left it. He was used to camping out in the middle of fields, he probably had a very good field kit with a very good torch and he took it all with him. This, I don't know why he had it, it'd be useless outside, but for me, reading in the dark, it works perfectly.
    In the kitchen was the half bag of sugar, some herbs and spices, some dried apricots and a few tins. I assume they're herbs and spices. They're in little bags stamped with Chinese writing on them. I’m pretty sure one of them is oregano. Probably.
    As for Jezzelle's flat, well, that was mostly garish purple. I never said she could repaint it, which means her deposit is mine! Ah-ha, he says rubbing his hands together gleefully. There wasn't much there, she clearly spent all her money on costume jewellery and bath salts. Oh, and her real name is Jessica, I wonder why she didn't use it.
     
    Then there's the fire. I decided not to light it, not tonight anyway, it's getting late and there's a limited amount of coal up here. The coal is kept in the shed outside, the tenants get a coal scuttle and a key. They've been burning through it this winter, though. Free coal is in the contract, I thought that would be a sweetener after charging them more for the room. Wish I'd known what the weather was going to be like. Outside I've got three sacks, but outside might as well be Newcastle. Inside I've got two scuttles, each less than half full. That's enough fuel for about four fires.
    I laid the fireplace in Tom's room, so I’m prepared. I prefer his room, less clutter, less purple. Then I brought my haul up here. All in all a good day.
     
    17:00, 14 th March.
    I forgot to check the doors.
     
    18:00, 14 th March.
    That wasn't fun. The first time I went downstairs today it was an expedition, an escape even. I'd been distracted, so focused on what I was doing I'd forgotten why I'd gone down there in the first place. Stupid! Stupid! Oh how I wish I dared scream!
    Crutch in hand, hammer tucked into my belt I went back downstairs. Those last few steps were the worst. I was so tense I was shaking. Sitting down, sliding forwards, bracing my good leg, lowering myself onto the next step whilst trying to hold the cast up, straining not to let it bang down on the steps. Each agonising inch took me further into the dark shadows, as the leg got heavier until it was a burning impossible weight. I tried not to make a sound but the harder I tried the more noise I seemed to make. Each creak of the stairs, each thud of the cast, each ragged heaving breath seemed amplified tenfold.
    The doors were closed. As quietly as I could I slid across the deadbolts. It'll slow me down when rescue arrives but I won't need to worry about noise then. It'll stop my tenants getting back in if they try and return, but if they do and they end up stuck outside with the living dead, well that's tough. They should have told me they were going.
     
    I do feel safer now, almost calm. My hearts still