Toxic Treacle by Echo Freer Read Free Book Online Page A

time he recalled Jane being angry with Tragic. ‘Don’t you ever - EVER - go down there again!’ the normally placid Jane had shouted, slamming the door and bolting it firmly. Shortly after that, the bolt had been removed and the padlock had appeared. The cellar had been firmly out of bounds from then on. Jane had told them it was because the rickety old steps were too dangerous. They could have fallen and been injured, she’d said, once more reverting to her gentle, caring self and Tragic never questioned her.
    As Monkey and Angel made their way down the wooden steps now, Monkey realised that they were firm and relatively new - certainly not as old as the house. They’d probably been replaced within the last ten years, so would have been quite safe at the time that he and Tragic had played down there. As they descended the steps, Angel’s hood caught on a nail. She stumbled and gasped but Monkey put out a hand to steady her, then raised a finger to his lips warning her to be quiet. A frisson of excitement shot through him at the physical contact but she pulled her hand away from his sharply; irritated.
    When his feet touched the floor of the underground room, he narrowed his eyes, scouring the cellar for suitable hiding places. It was pitch-dark apart from the spasmodic red glare that flashed through a ventilation grille at the front. A cobweb caught Monkey in the face and he brushed it away impatiently.
    As his eyes became accustomed to the dark he could make out dozens of large canvases lining two of the walls, some covered with cloth, others displaying Jane’s weird paintings. They were abstract and Monkey had never been able to understand them. Shelves laden with pots and paints, tools and tins were along another wall. There were piles of what looked like old clothes and shoes - no doubt Jane’s working clothes, kept down here because they were dirty. But he could see nowhere to hide two people.
    â€˜They’re bound to come down here,’ Angel whispered.
    â€˜Don’t worry,’ Monkey reassured her; although he wished he felt as confident as he was trying to sound. Outside, they could hear the rumble of feet running down the side of the house.
    â€˜The back door’s open!’ a voice called and more feet thundered towards the rear of the house.
    Monkey groaned and mentally gave himself a kick for not shutting the door properly as Mov Bailey had advised him to do. He would have expected a patroller to come looking for a school-dodger but was confused as to why there would be this level of security looking for Tragic - or, more to the point, Jane. At least Angel had closed the cellar door after them. Hopefully, that would allow them some time.
    Angel tugged at Monkey’s sleeve and pointed to the corner at the back of the cellar. He could just make out two large chest freezers against the back wall. Monkey knew that Jane had always been keen on home-grown food. Tragic had told him she’d even taken on a public sustenance patch to boost their food quota. No wonder she needed two freezers.
    They crept over to them and Monkey lifted the lid of the first one. It was full of bags and boxes of food arranged in wire baskets, all going soggy through lack of electricity. Angel opened the second. It also appeared full. Monkey was about to lower the lid despondently, when Angel stopped him.
    â€˜It’s different,’ she whispered. ‘Give me a hand.’ Monkey didn’t know what she meant by different . He looked at her questioningly as she felt round the rim of the freezer. There were none of the baskets and bags of vegetables like the other freezer. As far as he could make out, the food in the second, larger one was mainly pre-packed, manufactured foods stored in what appeared to be five shallow wooden trays. Angel prised her fingers under the lip of one of the trays and raised it up to reveal a totally empty freezer beneath. ‘Come on,’ she said,