Someone had varnished it once. There were still some patches of darker brown on the weather worn planks.
I pushed at it tentatively. It didn’t budge.
“Probably a cellar,” said Caz.
“A bit ornate for a cellar.” I indicated the surrounding stonework
“It's an ornate house.” She flicked through the paperwork. “Doesn't show on the plans.”
“Great!” I said with enthusiasm. “I’ve always wanted to find a mysterious door!”
She snorted. “Nothing mysterious about it. Just crappy plans. It’ll be a cellar, like I said.”
“Yes, maybe. But what if it isn’t? There could be anything in there!”
“Like what?”
“Well - perhaps a private chapel? Dusty pews, stone altar, and a magnificent golden cross, sealed up and forgotten!”
Caz gave me a look. Or rather, a Look. I ignored it.
“Maybe a tomb! An ancient knight in rusting mail, laying in his sarcophagus, broadsword still in his hands!”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s a cellar. Dust, dirt, rats, spider. A rusty shovel if you’re lucky.”
I sighed. “But we don’t know that. Not until we open the door. And as long as it stays closed, there’s no telling what could be inside. Doesn’t that excite you? Don’t you get little thrills running along your skin at the thought? It’s like that Schrödinger’s cat thing. Until it’s open, we don’t know, so anything is possible.”
“Until it’s open we can’t finish this audit, and it’s possible that we’ll be late off!”
“You’ve got no romance in you!” I complained.
“You’ve got no sense in you! Just open the door, so we can see that it’s a cellar and get off home.”
I shrugged, and pushed harder on the door. “It’s very stiff. Give me a hand, will you?”
It wasn’t locked, but opened only reluctantly as we both shoved at it. However, once it finally began to move it swung open so smoothly that we nearly followed it. Caz teetered for a moment on the uppermost of a steep flight of steps, but I managed to grab the door frame with one hand and her shoulder with the other. The clipboard with all the paperwork went flying down into the darkness.
“That was close!” I said, peering after them.
“Yes.” Caz sounded shaken. “Told you it was a cellar. Didn’t expect it to be quite such a sharp drop, though.”
In spite of the light behind us, we couldn’t see more than a few steps into the darkness.
“Shine your torch down there, please,” she asked. “Let’s see where my clipboard went.”
I pulled it out of my pocket and switched it on. But even the bright LED only illuminated a few more steps before being swallowed in the blackness.
“That’s the darkest cellar I’ve ever seen,” I said.
Caz nodded. “Switch the torch off again, Richie. I thought I saw something shining.”
We peered together into the gloom, letting our eyes adjust. Then turned to each other.
“Caz...”
“Richie...”
“Does that look like...”
“...stars?”
I pushed at it tentatively. It didn’t budge.
“Probably a cellar,” said Caz.
“A bit ornate for a cellar.” I indicated the surrounding stonework
“It's an ornate house.” She flicked through the paperwork. “Doesn't show on the plans.”
“Great!” I said with enthusiasm. “I’ve always wanted to find a mysterious door!”
She snorted. “Nothing mysterious about it. Just crappy plans. It’ll be a cellar, like I said.”
“Yes, maybe. But what if it isn’t? There could be anything in there!”
“Like what?”
“Well - perhaps a private chapel? Dusty pews, stone altar, and a magnificent golden cross, sealed up and forgotten!”
Caz gave me a look. Or rather, a Look. I ignored it.
“Maybe a tomb! An ancient knight in rusting mail, laying in his sarcophagus, broadsword still in his hands!”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s a cellar. Dust, dirt, rats, spider. A rusty shovel if you’re lucky.”
I sighed. “But we don’t know that. Not until we open the door. And as long as it stays closed, there’s no telling what could be inside. Doesn’t that excite you? Don’t you get little thrills running along your skin at the thought? It’s like that Schrödinger’s cat thing. Until it’s open, we don’t know, so anything is possible.”
“Until it’s open we can’t finish this audit, and it’s possible that we’ll be late off!”
“You’ve got no romance in you!” I complained.
“You’ve got no sense in you! Just open the door, so we can see that it’s a cellar and get off home.”
I shrugged, and pushed harder on the door. “It’s very stiff. Give me a hand, will you?”
It wasn’t locked, but opened only reluctantly as we both shoved at it. However, once it finally began to move it swung open so smoothly that we nearly followed it. Caz teetered for a moment on the uppermost of a steep flight of steps, but I managed to grab the door frame with one hand and her shoulder with the other. The clipboard with all the paperwork went flying down into the darkness.
“That was close!” I said, peering after them.
“Yes.” Caz sounded shaken. “Told you it was a cellar. Didn’t expect it to be quite such a sharp drop, though.”
In spite of the light behind us, we couldn’t see more than a few steps into the darkness.
“Shine your torch down there, please,” she asked. “Let’s see where my clipboard went.”
I pulled it out of my pocket and switched it on. But even the bright LED only illuminated a few more steps before being swallowed in the blackness.
“That’s the darkest cellar I’ve ever seen,” I said.
Caz nodded. “Switch the torch off again, Richie. I thought I saw something shining.”
We peered together into the gloom, letting our eyes adjust. Then turned to each other.
“Caz...”
“Richie...”
“Does that look like...”
“...stars?”
(The picture is of a back door to St David's Cathedral, Wales. I have no idea what's on the other side).
