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Toby’s adrenaline spiked and he burst into action. As the sounds of shouting and running echoed far away, he clambered up the metal staircase. Crawling up the stairs on all fours, he continued to use his outstretched palms like feelers so he didn’t injure himself. His breath came in short, sharp bursts.
With no light to offer him guidance, it seemed as if the stairs went up forever.
‘I think I can hear him in this wall!’ came the muffled voice of a child.
‘You in there, Carter? Scurrying through the walls like the rat you are, aye?’ Mr Snarky spat the words at him, from below. Toby was grateful now that the wood was so difficult to break through. There would be no way Snarky could follow without breaking it down with some tools. ‘We’ll find you, boy! You’ll get lashes for this, let me tell you!’
Toby clambered onward. By now his heart was almost beating out of his chest. All hope seemed to be extinguished. They had discovered him sooner than he’d hoped. It seemed like his escape was to end in disaster. Then, when he considered giving up, his hope was reignited with a greater ferocity than ever.
Above him, a shred of opportunity presented itself: Daylight. It was a smudge of light that illuminated the stairwell above him. With renewed energy, he climbed faster.
The workhouse children were in uproar. For them, the prospect of an escape was a spectacle many had never witnessed. Toby could hear their chants and cheers through the wall. With the masters running around in search of him, they were able to shout unhindered. Nothing could contain them. There now hung in the air the heady prospect of freedom. If Toby could chance it, then so could they. It occurred to him that he had suddenly become a beacon of hope to every child in the place. If he succeeded, he would be a legend. They would talk about him for years to come as the boy who made a mockery of the masters and escaped their tyranny.
‘Boy, come back this instant! You’re only making it worse for yourself when we catch you!’ Snarky again. This time he was shouting through a vent in the wall. Thankfully, it wasn’t near Toby. That was a good sign. It meant they didn’t know exactly where he was.
The slim shard of light above his head beckoned him onward. Only a few feet to go, he thought as he clawed his way up the remaining part of the staircase.
At the top of the stairs he saw where the light was coming from. Just as below in the dorm, it appeared that something had been blocked off by a wooden panel. Only this time he was behind it. A cold draught whistled through a few cracks in the wood. The early December weather enticed him, despite the cold. It was refreshing and reminded him of how close he was to freedom. Close, but not there yet. He was sweating heavily from the exertion and the oppressiveness of the confined space. His lungs ached every time he inhaled.
He pushed the panelling, seeing if it would break easily, and more importantly, quietly. It creaked a little, but it obviously required more force to break through it. He applied more force, leaning his back against the wall opposite in the narrow space, and pushing with one, then both feet.
Crack! It started to splinter.
Encouraged, he gently kicked it, and it yielded a little more.
Plucking up his courage, he took a chance and gave it a boot, and a hole opened up big enough for him to crawl through. Piling through the hole, he tumbled into a more brightly-lit room. Groaning, he climbed to his feet and glanced around.
He immediately recognised where he was. It was a large room, furnished with piles of old furniture covered in dustsheets. At one end was a locked door that he had seen far too many times. At the opposite end there was a wide, latticed window that had been left open.
No. Not here. Anywhere but here.
He had hoped to make it to the roof but instead he had only climbed to a room where Snarky put unruly children, locking them away to freeze and starve until they lost their rebellious edge. Toby had once spent two days in solitary confinement here. By the time the room had had its way with him, he had to be hauled out pale and shivering.
He couldn’t stay here. But the door was locked, he knew that without having to check. If they knew where he was, Snarky and Mrs Brisket would find him in minutes. Had he made too much noise in breaking his way through the panel? There was only one other way out. Rushing to the window, he leaned outside.
With the biting winter wind on his face, he took a moment to gaze over the city, taking stock of his surroundings. London looked wonderful under the frosty cloud cover. Church spires and the pitched roofs of houses and businesses were spread out before him like a mountain range to the horizon. The music of distant carol singers echoed from its depths. He could see sparkling Christmas trees and homes decorated with gaudy colours dotted throughout the metropolis, a tell-tale sign that Christmas was nearly here.
The whitening sky hinted toward snow but was yet to yield. Museums, houses, offices, and shops: there was a labyrinth of places to hide. It was the Promised Land for those seeking a new life, and looking to leave behind the problems of their last one. It was a fairy-tale setting for his new life. And he was a young hero, hoping to embark on an adventure of his own. He could already taste the freedom.
His euphoria didn’t last long.
The door at the other end of the room opened and an unwelcome face joined him. It was Mr Snarky. The hulking man in the wax coat growled when he saw the runaway peering through the window. Toby turned, eyes wide, abruptly torn back to the reality of his situation. With nowhere to go, he was cornered. And Mr Snarky was closing in.
- Writer
