‘If you’re planning to tunnel through the wall,’ Ashes said, looking on curiously, ‘I don’t think it’s going to help.’

Alice ignored him. When she’d pulled out two more bricks, she tossed them aside and clambered up onto the wall, using the spaces she’d made as hand- and footholds. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but she was able to climb a good four feet off the ground without any immediate danger of losing her grip. She dropped back to the floor, wincing at the pain in her abused feet, and shrugged out of the cotton nightshirt with its shredded sleeves and stains. The shift she wore underneath was thin, and the air here was chilly enough to make her shiver. She climbed up onto the edge of the basin and tested the water with one finger. It was frigidly cold.

Gritting her teeth, she thrust the shirt into the water and spread it over the grille at the bottom of the basin. The suction held it in place, but just to be sure, she retrieved a couple of the bricks and dropped them on top. Water was escaping through a few tears in the fabric, but not enough to balance the flow from the pipe, and the water in the basin was already rising fast. Ashes looked on, aghast.

‘Come on,’ Alice said. ‘You’re going to have to sit on my shoulder.’

‘I should say so,’ the cat said, hurrying to her side. She lifted him up as the water reached the edge of the basin and spilled out onto the floor. Alice perched him on her shoulder and then, feeling the frigid water lapping around her feet, turned to the door.

This was the hard part. The banging on the door had not relented, and when she put her hand on the inner latch she could feel it vibrate with each impact. She spent a moment mentally rehearsing what she had to do, while Ashes balanced precariously on her shoulder, the pinpricks of his claws digging through her shift.

‘Right,’ she said aloud. ‘Here goes nothing.’