Free Tunnels 01, Tunnels by Roderick Gordon, Brian Williams Page A

of connecting passages -- not a single one. A self-contained chamber with names, like some sort of memorial or something?" Will pondered, completely befuddled. "What are we on to here?"

     

8

    Having learned that Rebecca could be very unforgiving and that it was really not worth incurring her wrath -- not just before mealtimes, at any rate -- Will shook himself down and stamped the worst of the mud from his boots before bursting in through the front door. Slinging his backpack to the floor, he froze in astonishment, the tools inside still clattering against one another.
    A very odd scene greeted him. The door to the living room was closed, and Rebecca was crouched down beside it, her ear pressed to the keyhole. She frowned the moment she saw him.
    "What--" Will's question was cut short as Rebecca rose swiftly, shushing him with a forefinger to her lips. She seized her bemused brother by the arm and pulled him forcibly into the kitchen.
    "What's going on?" Will demanded in an indignant whisper.
    This was all very odd indeed. Rebecca, the original Little Miss Perfect, was in the very act of eavesdropping on their parents, something he would never have expected from her.
    But there was something even more remarkable than this: the living room door itself. It was closed . Will turned his head to look at it again, not quite believing his eyes.
    "That door had been wedged open for as long as I can remember," he said. "You know how she hates--"
    "They're arguing!" Rebecca said momentously.
    "They're what? About what?"
    "I'm not sure. The first thing I heard was Mum shouting at him to shut the door, and I was just trying to hear more when you barged in."
    "You must have heard something ."
    Rebecca didn't answer him immediately.
    "Come on," Will pressed her. "What did you hear?"
    "Well," she started slowly, "she was screaming that he was a royal failure ... and that he should stop wasting his time on complete nonsense ."
    "What else?"
    "Couldn't hear the rest, but they were both very angry. They were sort of growling at each other. It must be really important -- she's missing Friends !"
    Will opened the fridge and idly inspected a container of yogurt before putting it back. "So what could it be about, then? I don't remember them ever doing this before."
    Just then the living room door was flung open, making both Will and Rebecca jump, and Dr. Burrows stormed out, his face bright red and his eyes thunderous as he made a beeline for the cellar door. Fumbling with his key and muttering incomprehensibly under his breath, he unlocked it and then banged it shut behind him.
    Will and Rebecca were still peering around the corner of the kitchen door when they heard Mrs. Burrows shouting.
    "YOU'RE GOOD FOR NOTHING, YOU PATHETIC FOSSIL! YOU CAN STAY DOWN THERE AND ROT FOR ALL I CARE, YOU STUPID OLD RELIC!" she shrieked at the top of her lungs as she slammed the living room door with an almighty crash.
    "That can't be good for the paintwork," Will said distantly.
    Rebecca was so intent on what was happening, she didn't appear to have heard him.
    "God, this is so freakin' annoying. I really need to talk to him about what we found today," he continued, grumbling.
    This time she did hear him. "You can forget that! My advice is to just stay out of the way until things blow over." She stuck out her chin with great self-importance. " If they ever do. Anyway, the food's ready. Just help yourself. In fact, you can help yourself to the whole thing... I don't think anyone else is going to have an appetite."
    Without a further word, Rebecca spun around and left the room. Will moved his eyes from the empty doorway where she'd been to the oven and gave a small shrug.
    He wolfed down two and a half of the oven-ready meals and then made his way upstairs in the now uncannily quiet house. There wasn't even the usual strains of the television coming from the living room below as, sitting up in his bed, he meticulously polished his shovel until it gleamed and