The Wonderground

8 - The 'Shadow Kiss'

Charlie punched in the code and stepped back from the keypad. He waited a few seconds, wondering if he had remembered the numbers correctly. They were about to give up when the door gave a quiet click and opened towards them.

The open door revealed a narrow corridor stretching to their left and right, lit by a single bare bulb. It smelled fusty, like wet soil. There were more of the same green and cream tiles, but the walls were only finished to waist height and there were exposed, unfinished patches and missing squares where only blobs of grey grout remained.

There was nothing on the floor or walls to indicate excitement in either direction. Jack noticed a grubby switch on the wall at his shoulder. He flicked it upwards and a second bulb illuminated way off in the distance to their left.

"Let there be light!" he affirmed and headed off in the direction of the yellow glow. The others grudgingly followed, more from the lack of a better idea than because of any confidence in Jack's orienteering skills.

Halfway along the corridor they found an alcove hidden behind a crudely hung shower curtain. When Jack pulled it back, he unveiled a steep narrow concrete staircase leading downwards. A set of men's clothes was hanging on a hook. A white shirt with a grandad collar and a waistcoat with the chain of a pocket watch dangling from it. Sheets of lined A4 paper were sellotaped to the painted breezeblock wall. They were titled 'Act I', 'Act II' and 'Act III' and described various items of clothing and props. Costumes.

"It's a dressing room," smirked Jack.

"This must lead back down to the platform," said Rose, pointing at the steep, grey crumbling steps.

"I wonder if he put the heels on at the top or the bottom?" pondered Amelia.

"Keep going along the corridor?" suggested Charlie.

Nobody had the slightest interest in more of Lady Emily's stories. The yellow light flickered as they neared it. As they arrived under the light, it revealed...

...a dead end.

"Well, that's that, then. Back we go," said Elliot, pretending to be disappointed.

"I'm no straight 'A' student," said Jack. "But nobody takes the time and effort to build a long, underground corridor that leads nowhere!"

"He's right," admitted Charlie. "We must be missing something."

They took their mobile phones from their pockets and turned on their torches, pointing them up and down and into every corner.

"I think I've found something," called Isla. She pointed her phone torch at a spot on the curved wall. There was a smooth wooden handle, the size of a baseball bat, standing vertically and recessed into a semi-circular gouge in the wall. Several cobwebs stretched from the handle to the edges of the recess. Above the handle, painted on the wall at 12 o'clock, was a compass. Or maybe it was a four-pointed star. There was a second design painted by the side of the recess, at 3 o'clock. It was the letter 'W' painted gold inside a dark blue circle.

"I read somewhere that they used to use this station for safeguarding items from the British Museum during the Blitz," offered Elliot. "Maybe the 'W' stands for warehouse?"

"Or war," suggested Rose.

"Women's toilet?" proposed Isla hopefully, subconsciously pressing her knees together.

"Whatever it is, it's asking to be yanked," said Jack, rolling up his sleeves and spitting into his hands.

"It looks old, better not touch it," warned Amelia.

"I'm just going to give it a little friendly persuasion," replied Jack. "Stand back."

He clamped his big, meaty hands around the handle, ignoring the dirt and the spiders. He pulled...