Page 32 of A Cornish Love Story
‘Something’s not right. Panic Room Mode turns off the Wi-Fi in case of a cyber-attack, so—’
‘Of course it does.’ I massaged my chest. ‘But we can still phone out, can’t we? We can get Sarah to come back or the local police to turn up? I know DC Sommer, he can be creative when he needs to be, he could jimmy one of the locks or …’
Ethan held his phone up so I could see the screen. In the top right corner, where the Wi-Fi logo should have been, or 4G or 5G, there was that horrible SOS symbol that looked like a sticking plaster.
‘Thisisan SOS situation.’ I slipped my rucksack off and ferreted inside it for my own phone. My hand brushed against the soft black bag that held my silver mermaid, and I squeezed it as if it might bring us some luck. But when I looked at my phone screen,mine was also showing the SOS logo, alongside a red alert sign. I had less than 10 per cent battery left. ‘You idiot, Georgie,’ I muttered, and put it back in my bag. ‘OK, so what do we do?’
Ethan took a step back, so his head thudded against the wall. ‘I don’t know.’
I stared at him. ‘You don’tknow?’
‘No, I … You said the system said goodbye to you, even though you hadn’t mentioned Sparks?’
‘It saidfarewell, Georgie.’
‘Something’s not quite … right.’
‘Something not quite right that has trapped usinside? We must be able to call out from here. Does it have a landline?’
‘It’s … like I said, those final links haven’t been secured, because nobody’s bought it yet. The plan is to do that with the new owner, set up all their favourites, their preferred contacts and emergency services.’
‘Who else is there other than the police? You think whoever buys this house will have a direct line to MI5? Ethan!’ I threw my hands up in despair.
‘It’s a sophisticated system.’
‘A system that’s sosophisticated it’s managed to lock us inside with no means of escape?’It was my turn to pull at my hair, snagging the elastic tie so my ponytail came loose. ‘This cannot be happening.’ I tugged the door handle again. It didn’t budge. ‘Where are the other doors?’ I strode towards the back of the house, past the staircase. There was a door here too, wider than my back door at home but a lot less grand thanSterenlenn’s entrance. Hope surged, but I grabbed the handle and yanked it, and got the same, strong resistance.
‘Sparks, open the back door,’ I tried.
‘Panic Room Mode is activated,’ the voice said.
I rolled my eyes. ‘Sparks, override Panic Room Mode.’
‘Panic Room Mode cannot be overridden. Emergency services are on their way.’
‘They’renotthough. What other doors are there, Ethan?’
‘There are the French doors in the living room, but you won’t—’
‘I’m going.’ I hurried through the kitchen, my arm knocking against an ice bucket that still held a bottle of champagne, condensation beading the glass. I kept going, rubbing my arm, then came to a halt. I hadn’t made it in here so far, unable to squeeze through the crowds congregating in the kitchen, and it was sumptuous. Ahead of me were the French windows. Their glass was dark too, which meant I couldn’t see the view, but it also meant there was nothing to distract me from the beauty of the room.
The fireplace that Ethan had been so enamoured with when the house was abandoned was the focal point, preserved while the walls either side had been knocked out, so the room stretched the full length of the house. There were large windows that should have been showing off the gardens at the front and the back, with the French windows opening onto the side aspect.
The walls were a dusky grey-blue, and three huge, cream sofas that looked comfy enough to sleep on were arranged, not around a television – though one was mounted on the wall, so thin it was almost flush with it – but around the beautiful fireplace.
Glass and chrome occasional tables were dotted throughout, with more extravagant bouquets, the flowers cream and blue to match the decor, vibrant pink roses adding a pop of colour. The rug in front of the French windows was woven through with the same sea tones I’d seen glimmers of in the other rooms, and chrome uplighters stood sentry in the corners. It was a soft, calming space, and I would have appreciated it a lot more had I not been in panic mode, just like the house.
I strode to the French windows and pushed down on the handles, but they held firm. ‘Sparks,’ I said, ‘please open the French windows.’
‘Georgie, we are in Panic Room Mode.’ Had she soundedextrasoothing?
‘Sparks, there is no intruder. Please end Panic Room Mode.’
‘I need authorization from the emergency services.’
I balled my hands into fists. ‘Sparks, nobody is coming to save us.’
‘You are safe in Panic Room Mode,’ the voice said, and I pressed my hands into my eyes, trying to will away the fear that was crawling up my spine.
