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looked up at my handy work.
    “Oh, shit!” I gasped.
    All along one side of the square hole the plaster was broken and chipped. The wire mesh could now be clearly seen, where once it had been hidden. It would be obvious to anyone what I had been up to, should they glance upwards.
    Frantically, I looked around the room and searched for anything I could use to cover the gaps and cracks with.
    Kiera, how could you be such a dumb arse? I scolded myself.
    Then I spotted my bowl of water and had an idea. I hobbled over to it and brought it back to the chair, mindful not to spill any as I only had a little left and I would probably need all of it for my plan. Placing it on the floor next to the chair, I turned to the book that Nik had brought me and froze, my hand hovering over it. Looking down, I could see that the book was ‘The Wind in the Willows’.
    This was the book I remembered Doctor Hunt reading to me. But had he? Perhaps I had noticed the book when Nik had brought them into my cell and it had somehow worked its way into my dream. But if Hunt had really read this book to me – why had Nik brought it to me? Had it been by chance or a deliberate act?
    I thumbed through the pages and looked at the wonderful illustrations inside. Running my fingers delicately over the pages, it pained me to carry out what I had planned.
    Closing my eyes so I couldn’t see those illustrations and the neat rows of printed words, I slowly began to rip out several of the pages. I then tore these into thin strips.
    Opening my eyes, I looked down at these torn pieces of paper and cringed. I felt awful for destroying the book, partly because I knew books were precious – but more importantly, I got a feeling deep inside that this book had some significant meaning but I didn’t have time to figure out what – it was just a strange feeling that I had.
    The toad had escaped from his cell. He’d gained the sympathy of the jailer’s daughter and she had disguised him as a washerwoman and helped him escape. But there was no jailer’s daughter and definitely no disguises to be had.
    So slowly, I gathered up the strips of paper and placed them into the bowl of water.
    “Sorry Mister Toad,” I whispered.
    Once the paper was sodden, I squeezed the strips into several small, mushy pulps and climbed back onto the chair. With my thumb and fingers, I worked and moulded the wet paper into the cracks and holes that I had made during the night. I smoothed the paper over with the palm of my hand and blended it into the ceiling. When I was happy that I had filled in all the gaps, I climbed down off the chair and looked back up at the ceiling. The colour of the paper didn’t match perfectly with the colour of the ceiling, but it was close enough. I guessed it would fool the passing glance but perhaps not a careful examination.
    As I stood and admired my cunning, I heard the rattling of keys in the lock of my cell door. I quickly looked about myself, just to make sure that I had covered all of my tracks. It was then that I noticed the mounds of chippings and tiny pieces of plaster, which had fallen from the ceiling and now covered the floor of my cell.

Chapter Ten
     
    If these tiny pieces of plaster happened to be seen, it wouldn’t take too long to work out where they had come from and what I had been up to.
    The keys jangled in the lock and with my heart pounding in my chest, I looked down at the chair.
    I love you Nik! I thought to myself as I turned the chair upside down, and I doubted he knew he had unwittingly provided me with the tools that I needed to make my escape. Scooping the plaster chippings together with my hands, I piled them all together. I gathered them into my fist, and then poured them into the hollow leg of the upturned chair. A few tiny pieces dribbled through my fingers and back onto the floor, but these were so tiny, I doubted they would have been noticed. I poured the last of the chippings into the chair leg, snatched up the