Chapter 15 Imogen
Imogen
‘What are we going to do?’ I wail.
We’ve tried everything. We’ve tried endlessly to move the hatch door, we’ve shouted for help, we’ve drummed our fists against the metal, but to no avail. It won’t budge. We could hear the dogs barking at first but now there is just an eerie silence.
Dennis looks grey and keeps pulling at the collar of his jumper. He clutches his chest and I’m worried he’s about to have a heart attack.
‘Come on, let’s sit down and think about what to do,’ I say, helping him back down the steps.
He perches on the only chair by the bench and I get out my phone, but there is still no reception down here.
I’m trying to repress the feelings of terror but they threaten to bubble over.
I have to keep my head. There is no point us both freaking out, and I can see that Dennis isn’t coping well.
He keeps rubbing his chest and sweat has broken out on his forehead.
‘It will be okay,’ I say, pacing the room, but I can’t stop myself from catastrophizing.
Nobody knows we’re here. Nobody even knows this place exists.
Josh will come home and wonder where I am.
How long would we survive down here without food or water?
‘My chest is hurting,’ mutters Dennis and I’m seized with panic. How is this happening?
‘Take deep breaths. It’s probably an anxiety attack.’
He does as I say. A hot feeling rises from my feet, up through my body and to my face. I used to get anxiety attacks when I was a kid but I haven’t had one for years. And I can’t afford to have one now.
‘What about your phone? I don’t have any reception, do you?’
Dennis taps his trouser pockets theatrically. ‘I left my phone on your kitchen table after I called the police.’ His eyes are dark with alarm. ‘What are we going to do?’
‘Someone will come for us.’ I try to sound more confident than I actually feel. ‘At least we’re not in darkness. We have electricity.’
‘Great,’ mumbles Dennis. ‘Electricity but no air. Or food or water.’
‘This was an air-raid shelter, wasn’t it? People would have been down here for hours.’
‘But not days … not …’ He pulls at the neck of his jumper again. ‘Oh God. Oh Lord. I can’t … I can’t do this … I’m sorry …’
‘Dennis!’ I say firmly. ‘Stop it. It’s going to be okay.’ I need to take his mind off it. ‘Someone will come for us. The dogs. Someone will notice the dogs.’ I stop pacing. ‘Tell me. Are you married? Do you have children?’
At first I don’t think he’s going to answer, then he eventually says, ‘Yes. I was married. A long time ago. She left me in the end. Had an affair with one of the neighbours.’
‘Oh Dennis, I’m sorry.’
He shakes his head. ‘It’s okay. It was when we were living in the Chew Valley. I moved here ten years ago.’
‘Children?’
‘A daughter. She’s married and lives in Liverpool.’
‘Any grandkids?’
‘Two.’ He smiles at the memory of them. ‘Two boys. Twins. They’re amazing. Thirteen now but I go and visit them every few months.’ His face falls. ‘I might never see them again … my daughter. Stella. She’ll be devastated. We’re really close …’ He clutches at his heart again.
I need to get us out of here otherwise Dennis could keel over. I dart back up the stairs and start pushing on the door again, ramming it with my shoulder, trying to heave it open. And then I start yelling. ‘Help. Help. We’re locked in here. Help. Help.’
A sound. Footsteps perhaps. And then a dog’s bark.
Dennis looks at me, round-eyed.
And then, much to my utter relief, the door is pulled back, showing me a wonderful, exhilarating slice of grey sky.
I gulp lungfuls of fresh air and sprint up the rest of the stairs before it can close again, my legs weak.
I turn to help Dennis. I’ve never seen him move so fast. He almost runs up the stairs too.
‘Thank God,’ he says and we step out of the bunker and into the woods. ‘Thank God.’
And then I turn to our rescuer. ‘Hello, Imogen.’
It’s DI Erica Shirley. She’s standing with Solly and Dennis’s black Lab, Cady.
‘We were locked in …’ Dennis manages as he tries to catch his breath.
DI Shirley’s expression is troubled and I follow her gaze to a large stone boulder set next to the hatch. ‘That was on top of the door,’ she says gravely. ‘If it hadn’t been for the dogs here, leading me to this area of the woods, then I wouldn’t have found you. We need to find out who did this.’