Creeping out twenty minutes later, without turning on any lights, reminded me of antics when I was younger: a midnight feast with my cousins, or the time when we teenagers had a silence on the hill one Sunday morning as the sun rose. I could hear Derek’s steady snoring and, once again, the click of the back door opening. Will had an old fashioned battery torch to light our way, and we stopped to put our shoes on, and followed him.
It was late, there were few lights on in the houses on the village side of the vicarage or in the windows in the tree-lined estate of larger houses opposite, but it was not yet midnight: the street lights were still on. Will whispered something to Mia, who gave us both a hug and then crept back inside, and Will beckoned to us to follow him. We walked softly to the dark building on the other side of the vicarage, the old volunteer fire station, and walked round to the side of it.
Will stopped at a door, just like an ordinary house door, and took out some keys. It was very dark there. The hedge on the edge of the vicarage property was quite high and we were in total shadow. It was a very dark night. Will fumbled a little then unlocked the door and let us in. He followed after us and closed the door behind him.
“The fire station?” I could not tell whether Tom was surprised or impressed.
“Volunteer fire station,” agreed Will, talking in a normal voice which for a moment seemed dangerous, so that I wanted to hiss, “Sh!”
“The vicar has traditionally always has a spare key,” explained Will. “Common sense when we live next door. To be sure the first of the crew can get in if he doesn’t have his key with him. Or her, of course.”
He waved his torch around. There was one rather old-fashioned looking fire engine, the sort with a ladder on it, and various bits and pieces of equipment. There was another ladder leading up to a sort of mezzanine floor at the back.
“The office,” indicated Will. “Such as it is. I think you should sleep up there.” He started to climb the ladder, waving the torch ahead of him and leaving Tom and me in the dark. Half way up he said over his shoulder, “There’s electric light here, but there are three small windows upstairs. If people saw lights on in the fire station it really would cause a stir, so we’re stuck with my torch, I’m afraid!” Then, after a bit of scrambling around on Will’s part, “Okay, throw the sleeping bags up,” then, “Right, up you come. It could be much worse.”
With Will holding the torch we explored our new bedroom. There was a table and six plastic chairs, stacked in one corner. There was a sink and a kettle. Will tried the tap, “The water’s still on,” he said, “And I can’t see why you shouldn’t use the kettle.” He opened and closed a couple of cupboards fixed to the wall. “There’s nothing to make a drink with, though,” he added. “So you have the great choice of hot or cold water!”
Tom started to unroll the first of the sleeping bags. “No sleeping mats, I’m afraid,” commented Will.
“That’s okay,” said Tom. “We’ll manage.”
“Then I’m off,” said Will. “Don’t come out until we tell you it’s safe.”
“What if there’s a fire?” asked Tom. “Won’t the fire crew find us?”
“Better just keep your fingers crossed,” said Will as he started to climb down the ladder. Then, when only his head showed, looking a bit strange by the light of the torch, “Or you could pray,” he added.