I knew when men were trying it on. This was no bluff. ‘Leave it to me,’ I said with more hope than knowledge. I jogged up the stairs, level by level, until I was breathing heavily on the top landing. I looked up at the open skylight. The rectangle was now grey and would be lightening fast. I could slip out and leave Airchie to face the music. What would another stretch of five years matter to him? Then I thought of his medal hopes and what this work meant to him. A last chance. I jumped on the ladder and stepped smartly up to the open skylight. I reached out – sorely tempted to climb out and away – and hauled the heavy glass box closed. I all but slid down the ladder and back on to the landing. With my foot on its bottom rung I had to pull it back and unhook it. It was a two-man job. Slowly it came up, but in the process it caught on the long steel arm of the catch that held down the skylight. It clunked, clattered and dangled. Bugger! I stared at the swinging arm. To hell with it.
