The Exception by Christian Jungersen

Author:Christian Jungersen [Jungersen, Christian]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780297857099
Publisher: Hachette Littlehampton
Published: 2010-11-11T06:00:00+00:00

*

Walking back to the rehearsal room, no one speaks. Tess comes to meet them. ‘You’re in luck, Brigitte!’ She beams.

‘Really? Why?’

‘It seems Camilla’s parent–teacher meeting was over sooner than she’d expected. She’s decided to come tonight after all.’

Anne-Lise freezes. She hopes the others won’t notice.

‘She’s just taking off her wet things. I told her about you and she thought she could place you straightaway.’

Anne-Lise can barely swallow. ‘Ahaaa …’

She turns away from them and tries to pull herself together. ‘Oh, damn, I’ve left my eye-liner in the toilet. You go ahead and start. I’ll be right back.’

‘Don’t worry, Brigitte. We’ll wait for you.’

At least there is nobody in the bathroom now. Anne-Lise knows that she must get out of there. But how?

She needs to find a different staircase that will take her down into the network of basement corridors that lead to the exit. Then Anne-Lise remembers that her coat and umbrella are still in the rehearsal room. At least she had the foresight to bring a coat that Camilla has never seen her wear, in case the others start describing Brigitte to her. But her wallet, with her driver’s licence and credit card, is in her coat pocket. How can she grab it without Camilla spotting her?

Why didn’t I put the wallet in my handbag? I was just about to. Now it’s there, right under Camilla’s nose.

When Anne-Lise no longer hears voices in the corridor, she sneaks out of the toilet and slips away. After turning a few corners and passing through two sets of fire doors, she reaches the top of a staircase that leads down to the basement.

Below, the hallways seem even more confusing. She has no idea where she is in the maze. The lighting is uniform and everywhere looks the same. She searches her memory for markers: a firehose wound up in a drum, anything, but there’s not the smallest piece of graffiti, not a single discarded postbag. Nothing at all to go by.

After turning several corners, she spots a darkish trail on the light floor. It looks like a skid mark. She can’t recall having seen it before. Next, she comes across one of the metal staircases. She runs up it and finds a large door.

If she pushes it, will the alarm go off?

Somewhere down here they keep money and valuables worth millions; security guards must patrol these corridors round the clock. What if she’s arrested and dragged away in front of the choir, including Camilla?

She stands still and listens. The door looks heavy. Presumably sounds wouldn’t penetrate it easily? She listens but can’t hear a thing. No barking of guard dogs. No voices.

She reaches for the handle and pushes it down.

No alarm, but the door is locked. She feels like hitting something, anything, but orders herself to calm down.

Walking noiselessly, she retraces her way along the corridor. Is it the same one? Impossible to be sure.

If only she could make her way to the reception area. Then she could spy on the choir through the glass wall and see when Camilla leaves.

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