Kelley Townley

I step out of the lift. Now what? This looks just like another service corridor. But if I listen I can hear people talking, telephones ringing, the hum of electrical machines.

At either end of the corridor there are doors. I poke my head out of the nearest. Outside it looks posh. This must be the ‘Fine Art Restoration Trust’ offices. A pretty but stern-looking woman with bobbed jet black hair and glasses sits at a reception desk. We make eye contact and I snap the door shut.

I try the other door. Again it’s the same plush decor but this time I can see an open-plan office. Lots of people busy at their desks. But still there’s no way I can walk through there dressed in my jeans. I look around and spy a pair of discarded blue overalls. Perfect. I slip them on over my clothes and grab a mop and bucket. Everyone makes way for someone with a mop and bucket.

I can’t hesitate. I have to come out this door confident and purposeful. I stop with my hand on the door handle. It strikes me that I’m not entirely sure what I’m doing here. I mean adrenaline has propelled me so far, but I could stop at anytime. Just turn around and go home. But I need to know. What is Dad up to? Is he really a criminal? Is Ollie involved? I push open the door and wander out in a bored fashion.