Tunnels 02, Deeper

lap.
    "Nobody told me anything about a meeting. Let me see that," Mrs. Burrows demanded as she went to get up, one hand extended toward the letter.
    "No... no, it doesn't matter now. I expect the manager here forgot to inform you, and it won't take long, anyway. I just wanted to make sure everything's OK for you and--"
    "Not about the fees, is it?" Mrs. Burrows cut in as she settled back in her chair, crossing her legs. "As far as I know, the health insurance pays a top-up on the government's contribution and when the insurance runs out, the money from the house sale will cover me."
    "I'm sure that's all right, but it's not my department, I'm afraid," Sarah said with another transient smile. She opened the folder on her knees, took out a pad of paper, and was just slipping the cap off her pen when she caught sight of the painting of a coffee-colored teddy bear on the wall a little way above Mrs. Burrow. Around the bear were carefully painted dice, all in bright colors such as red, orange, and royal blue, and all showing different numbers. Sarah shook her head and turned her attention to Mrs. Burrows again, her pen poised above a clean sheet of paper.
    "So tell me, when were you admitted here, Celia? Do you mind if I call you Celia?"
    "Sure, anything. It was November last year."
    "And how have you been getting on?" Sarah asked, pretending to take notes.
    "Very well, thank you," Mrs. Burrows said, and then added somewhat defensively, "but I've still got some way to go after my... er... trauma... and I'm going to need much more time here. More rest."
    "Yes," Sarah agreed noncommittally. "And your family? Any news of them?"
    "No, none at all. The police say they're still investigating the disappearances, but they're hopeless."
    "The police?"
    Mrs. Burrows answered in a forlorn monotone. "They even had the gall to come to see me yesterday. You probably heard what happened a couple of days ago... the incident at my house?" She flicked her eyes lethargically at Sarah.
    "Yes, I read something about it," Sarah said. "Nasty business."
    "Certainly was. Two policemen on the beat surprised a gang outside my house and there was one heck of a fight. Both officers got a bad hiding, and one of them even had a dog set on him." She coughed, then tugged a grimy handkerchief from where it was tucked inside her sleeve. "I suppose it was those horrid squatters. They're worse than animals!" Mrs. Burrows pronounced.
    If only she knew , Sarah thought. She nodded her head to show she was in total agreement with Mrs. Burrows, the image of the policeman lying senseless on the patio after she'd knocked him out cold flashing through her mind.
    Mrs. Burrows blew her nose at great volume and tucked the handkerchief back into her sleeve. "I really don't know what this country's coming to. Anyway, they picked the wrong place this time. Nothing left there to steal... it's all in storage while the property's being sold."
    Sarah nodded her head again as Mrs. Burrows went on.
    "But the police aren't much better. They just won't leave me be. My counselor tries to stop them from coming, but they insist on interviewing me, time and time again. They act as if I'm to blame for everything... my family's disappearances... even the attack on the policemen... I ask you, as if I could've had anything to do with that -- I'm here under twenty-four hour watch, for heaven's sake!" She uncrossed her legs and shifted in her chair before crossing them again. "Talk about getting some rest! This is all very unsettling for me, you know."
    "Yes, yes, I can quite understand that," Sarah agreed quickly. "You've been through enough already."
    Mrs. Burrows gave a small nod and lifted her head to gaze through the windows.
    "But the police haven't given up looking for your husband and son?" Sarah inquired softly. "Hasn't there been any news about them at all?"
    "No, nobody seems to have the faintest idea where they've gone. I'm sure you're aware my husband walked out, then my son vanished from the face of the earth," she said desolately. "There've been various sightings of him -- a couple right back in Highfield. There was even some security-camera footage from the tube station of someone who looked vaguely like Will, with another boy... and a large dog."
    "A large dog?" Sarah put in.
    "Yes, an Alsatian or something like that," Mrs. Burrows shook her head. "But the police say they can't verify any of it." She sighed self-indulgently. "And my daughter, Rebecca, is at my sister's,