The other end

They went to room eight. Els brought the lamp from the landing, leaving the corridor behind them dark. Liv moved the boxes and examined the wooden case. The loose flap fitted a spindle behind the lever. A patch of white paint on the metal matched a patch inside the case. It had been there before.

‘Can you hold the lamp higher?’ she asked.

Els did. An arrow had been scratched beneath the rim. The lever could open the route to the kitchen or to room eight. Without the flap both routes were open, but the kitchen branch ended at the plaster. Liv drew it on the back of an old invoice. It explained the hollow sound. Not the words.

‘I want to say this now,’ she told Els. ‘It doesn't explain that recording.’

Els nodded. ‘I didn't think you were going to say it did.’

They replaced the flap. Liv turned the lever towards room eight. A rustling came through the pipe, like a sleeve brushing a wall. Then the three taps sounded, on their side this time.

Els straightened.

‘Who's there?’ she asked.

The voice did not answer. Downstairs a door slammed, although there was nobody downstairs. Liv thought of the wind. She concentrated on the wind so hard that she briefly forgot to breathe.

Then the woman in the tube asked, ‘Is anybody there?’

Els rested her hand on the wood. ‘Yes. We're here.’

A long silence followed. Liv heard Els swallow. Something rustled inside the pipe again, and a breath of cold air moved across Liv's wrist. The lamp did not flicker. The door did not move. Nothing helped them decide when it was over.

They waited until the refrigerator started downstairs.

‘Are you staying tonight?’ Els asked.

Liv thought of room seven and her bag lying open on the bed. ‘Not in there.’

Els made up the sofa in her living room and remained in the armchair herself. They talked about the renovation, about a plumber who never sent his invoices. At five Liv fell asleep. When she woke, a cup of tea stood beside her.

Before leaving she recorded another minute in room seven. Only rain and a cart in the street. She sent both files to Els and kept the originals. She did nothing to the strange recording. She knew how easily you could hear something in noise once somebody told you what to listen for.

At home she set her bag in the hall. The roofers had finished. In her workroom the chair stood exactly where she had left it.

She opened the 00:17 recording. After her own voice came eleven seconds of silence. Then, very quietly, she heard the zip of her travelling bag.

Liv looked towards the hall. The bag was closed. She took her hand off the mouse and let the file keep playing.