'We need to get this table swung round so that it's end on to the doors. On my count, we'll smash it forwards.' It was a great shame the windows in this room had not been replaced when her father had renovated the building. These still had small leaded panes. It would be impossible to knock them out and affect an escape that way. With much grunting and effort, the table was eventually in position. She sniffed the air; the smell of smoke was still not overwhelming. The fire had not reached this part of the house. 'Right. Ready, men…one…two…three.' The men ran forward, hurling the heavy piece of furniture at the locked doors. The impact caused the men behind to cannon into those in the front. If the matter had not been so serious, she would have found it funny. They sorted themselves out and prepared to have a second attempt. On the fourth assault, the door splintered and gave way. Once again Simon was obliged to restore order. 'Moderate your language; ladies present.
What do You think about Miss Peterson & The Colonel?
