Tunnels 05 - Spiral

conspiratorially. “Now she’s a teenager, she says life in the country is dull, and just wants to be in London, shopping and seeing her friends. She wasn’t always that way — she used to love it here when she was little. Anyway, by all accounts, London and the south are in such a mess, she’s better off up here until it all blows —”
    Out of sight, Stephanie shouted, “Gramps, you coming or what?”
    Old Wilkie straightened up. “Are you and the rest of the party staying with the Commander for long?”
    Will and Chester exchanged glances. Drake had specifically warned them not to give the man any information about themselves.
    “We’re not sure yet,” Will replied.
    “Well, if you’re serious about doing some training — commando style — you might be interested in the Tree Walk,” Old Wilkie said.
    “What’s that?” Will asked.
    “Starts there.” Old Wilkie pointed at a ladder on a metal frame built around the trunk of a massive pine, then raised his finger to the branches up above, where the boys could see something running among the trees.
    “It’s an assault course I built for the Commander way back,” Old Wilkie said. “10 Para down in Aldershot copied my idea, but mine’s bigger and better. I keep it in working order even though the Commander hasn’t used it in years.” Old Wilkie smiled at the boys. “Stephanie can get around it like greased lightning. You should challenge her — see if you can beat her time.”
    “Sounds fun,” Will said.
    “Yes, we should do that,” Chester chimed in unconvincingly, as his eyes followed the metal track, which zigzagged through the tree canopies.
    “Well, gentlemen, I’d better be getting on. I hope that we come across each other again,” Old Wilkie said. He began to whistle to himself as he strolled off after Stephanie.
    “You’re not getting me up there,” Chester said, then smiled. “Not unless Steph wants a race. She’s really nice, isn’t she?” He pursed his lips as he thought of something. “Have to say I’m not too keen on redheads after what Martha did to me, but I’m prepared to make exceptions.” He had a dreamy look on his face.
    “So you like her more than Elliott?” Will teased.
    “I . . . er . . .” Chester stalled in embarrassment.
    Will was looking at his friend with surprise. He hadn’t meant the comment to be taken seriously.
    “Well, it’s not as if we see much of Elliott these days, is it?” Chester blustered. “She’s always in her room, taking endless baths and doing her nails and all that girl stuff.”
    Will nodded. “She told me her back was hurting her . . . that her shoulders ached all the time.”
    “Maybe it’s that, then, and she’s just under the weather,” Chester surmised. “But she’s not at all like she used to be. It’s like she’s gone soft or something.”
    “True,” Will agreed. “Since we’ve been here, she’s changed so much. I’m really quite worried about her.”

    As the rain continued to hammer down and they jogged the last mile to the house, Will and Chester were joined by Bartleby and Colly, the two huge Hunters.
    “Got ourselves a big cat escort,” Chester laughed as the animals positioned themselves on either side of him and Will. Their heads held high, the Hunters were loping along with steady, easy strides, as if showing off that the pace was nothing to them. In response, Will and Chester sped up, but the Hunters did likewise.
    “We’ll never beat them.” Will chuckled, out of breath, as the four of them reached the house. They thundered up the steps of the main entrance and crashed through the doors into the hall. Parry appeared almost immediately.
    “Shoes off, boys, eh,” he urged them, seeing that they had already tracked mud across the black-and-white marble floor. “And look at the state of those two mangy animals.” He glowered at the cats, their bald skin streaked with dirt. “They’re polishing off all the grouse on the estate. Soon, there won’t be a single blessed bird left,” Parry added resentfully. The tough old man with his wayward hair and shaggy beard was wearing a kitchen apron over his tweed suit trousers, and in his hand was a sheaf of papers — it was a printout of some kind. “You’ve both been gone longer than I expected,” he noted, glancing at the grandfather clock.
    The boys stood there mutely, wondering if they should say something about the encounter with Old Wilkie and his granddaughter. But they