Chapter 720 A New Georgy-girl:>Ep16

• I carefully made my way to the far end of the attic, quite a long walk, really when I was trying to be stealthy and silent, and eased into the landing and down to the ground level, again watching for all the squeaky stair-treads I remembered from my childhood.
• I went that way because the workshop had a wide wooden double carriage door on the side of the house which was padlocked closed, but there was a bolted wicket-gate in one leaf of the double doors, and that was my way out of the house. As far as I could tell, there was no way for them to patrol the entire perimeter of the house, it was too big for just a couple of men, so with luck they wouldn't see me if I stuck close to the walls; the windows were set higher than my height, so anyone looking out wouldn't be able to see me plastered to the wall right under them as I worked my way around to the front of the house unless they opened the window, leaned out, and looked down.
• Slipping behind the perfect cover afforded by my mother's carefully shaped conical Yew topiaries, her pride and joy, that had taken her years and endless effort to create and perfect, and which blanketed the front of the house, I managed to slip up beside the battered, filthy old Ford Transit that had been concealed behind those same topiaries, hiding it from a casual observer on the main road.