The Declaration

the obligatory Allotment. There, at the bottom of the garden was the summer house, still full of furniture and boxes. And there, beside the door, was another false rock.
    Two minutes later, they were both safely inside, hidden under a large double bed that was leaning up against the far wall. Using some heavy velvet curtains to wrap around themselves against the cold, they sat still and waited, the only sound their short, shallow breaths.

Chapter Sixteen
    Maisie Wingfield didn’t know what to do with herself. It had been her own stupid fault for going to check on the miserable little blighters, she realised, but how was she to have known what she’d find? Seeing as she was on night duty, she’d decided to give that Surplus a little warning before Mrs Pincent got back, a word in her ear that she better not let on about their run-in, else there’d be more trouble.
    And now . . . well, now she was going to have to tell Mrs Pincent. Tell her that the horrors had got out. They were demons, that’s what they were, Maisie thought to herself fretfully. Pulling themselves up the wall and into that little hole. Those Surpluses had no business existing, let alone running away like that.
    ‘They never got out, did they?’ Susan, another Domestic and Maisie’s confidante, stared at her with her mouth open. ‘You tellin’ me that they’ve escaped?’
    Maisie looked at her uncomfortably.
    ‘It wasn’t my fault,’ she said firmly. ‘Wasn’t me what put them in Solitary. An’ Surpluses ain’t got no business being on the Smalls’ floor either. Mrs Pincent’s idea, that was. So it’s her fault, really.’
    Susan looked at her dubiously, and Maisie continued defiantly, ‘Hasn’t Mrs P always said that Surpluses isn’t to go on Floor 3 on account of them getting a soft spot for the Smalls or worrying about them when they oughtn’t to be worrying ’bout anything except doing what they’s been told to do and feeling bad about even existing? That little cow Anna should’ve been given the belt, not put up there. That’s what should’ve happened.’
    ‘You goin’ to tell her that?’ Susan asked.
    Maisie shivered. She’d thought Mrs Pincent was still away. She’d been going to leave her a note, just slip it under her door or something. But then she’d been on her way to do it, and Mrs Pincent had come in through the back door with a gentleman. They’d swept into her office, like it was the middle of the day not four o’clock in the morning, and Maisie had run back down the corridor towards the kitchen, which was where she was now.
    ‘I’m goin’ to go now,’ she said hesitantly. ‘Unless you want to tell her? Since you’re on duty an’ all?’
    Susan shook her head incredulously. ‘You can forget that idea right away,’ she said immediately. ‘I’ve got breakfasts to make, thank you very much. You just go and get it over and done with. And I’ll make you a cup of tea for after.’
    Maisie stood up.
    ‘Right you are,’ she said, trembling slightly. ‘They should put them Surpluses down,’ she muttered to herself angrily. As she left the kitchen, she shot a last, panicky look at Susan, then made her way towards Mrs Pincent’s office. ‘Stop them getting Legal people like me into bother like this. It isn’t right. It isn’t right at all.’
    She hesitated before approaching the door. Maisie didn’t like trouble. Never had. As far as she was concerned, you did your job, you kept your head down and made sure you got paid, end of every week. So long as that pay cheque kept topping up her bank account, giving her enough funds to buy cream cakes, pints of cider at the local pub and comfortable shoes for her aching feet, she was happy. Grange Hall gave her all those things and a roof over her head to boot, and if that meant having to put up with those horrible screaming Surplus Smalls, well, that was a price she was willing to pay. She’d never asked for anything, never wanted more than she could provide for herself. She wasn’t interested in promotion, or anything like that.
    No, she was a simple sort of a person, really. Just a hard-working Legal, trying to make something of her life. And for a Surplus to get her into trouble – particularly a Surplus who spoke to her like she did, like she was the Legal, like she was better than her (Maisie grimaced at the thought) – well, she would have to make it clear to Mrs Pincent that she just wouldn’t stand for it. Yes, she was going to speak