Her banging was returned by three methodical thuds and then, no longer insulated by the sandbags, a more distinct shout, a shout that made her heart leap.

“John,” Mark called through the wall. “Is Alfred with you?”

The reply was muffled but unmistakable. “Yes!”

Annie could have collapsed with relief.

“Well, I’ll be,” said Mark, rubbing his chin before taking off up the stairs. “Never a dull day in the ambulance service!” he shouted, disappearing out of view.

Annie could hear excited mumblings from above. She cast around for something to bash the wall with. John’s tool bag was open on one of the chest freezers; she rooted around in it and found a hammer and chisel. She set at it, lining the chisel up against the cement and hitting the end of it with the hammer. Oh God! she lamented to herself, this is going to take forever! She heard Mark’s footsteps on the stairs.

“Step aside,” he said, brandishing a mallet.

Annie eyed him with surprise.

“You never know what you’re going to need in this job.” He answered her unspoken question with a grin. Mark turned to the wall and banged it with the side of his fist. “Hello in there!” he shouted. “I’m going to break through the wall, so I’m going to need you to move back. Do you understand me?”

There was a muted bang in response, and John’s distant voice came through the wall. “I understand. We’re moving back!”

Mark swung the mallet back and smacked it hard at the wall. The wall wobbled. Bits of cement flew out and skittered along the stone floor. He swung again and again. On the fourth swing, a large crack appeared running diagonally up to what was once the doorframe, and a chunk of several bricks crashed to the ground, splintering into chalky pieces. Behind the hole was not, as Annie had hoped, a vision of John and Alfred, but an old wooden door with iron studs.

“It’s the old door,” Annie said to Mark. “They must have left it in situ for extra flood protection.” Then she banged on the wood. “John, we’re almost through. We’ll be with you soon!”

“Put the kettle on!” came John’s raspy response, and Annie laughed loudly, as though it were the funniest thing she had ever heard.

Carefully Mark and Annie lifted down the loose brickwork at the top and then worked their way down, scooting the remnants to one side, until the door was fully revealed. Mark reached up and attacked the top bolt and Annie the middle. They were stiff with age, but with brute force and wiggling combined, eventually all the bolts were drawn back. Annie gripped the thick ring of the door handle with both hands and twisted hard to release the latch. After a few good tugs, the door hinges relented and slowly the heavy door creaked open.

Chapter 83