I slowly descended, watching the figure standing in the dark as it watched me…
As I cautiously reached the bottom of the stairs I saw its mouth drop open and it seemed to slump against the side of the reception desk. “You… BASTARD!” it hissed at me.
It was Mr Crawford, he was white as a sheet and clearly terrified. What I hadn’t realised was that on Saturdays the twilight team finished at 6pm, not 8... Mr Crawford let everyone out, assumed I had already gone, set all the silent alarms and went home.
When I went to the canteen for a drink, I’d set the alarms off. Mr C had been called back by the police, who then searched the entire building - when they got to the stock control office they’d looked through the window in the door, not realising I was at work just around the corner (good search technique, I don’t think).
Finding nothing, the police had gone again, while I was totally oblivious to the whole event. That was when Mr C reset the alarms, but before he could leave the building they went off again… then I appeared at the top of the stairs…
All he could see was a silent figure in a long dark coat who shouldn’t have been there, standing in the gloom, then slowly coming down the stairs towards him. It was brown trousers time for Mr Crawford that evening for sure when he saw me, the ghost in the stairwell…
FINI
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