I knocked again, hard enough to bruise my knuckles.
‘There’s an alien koala in the kitchen and he’s eating all the biscuits! Quick – you need to come and blast him for me!’ I tried.
More rustles and thuds.
‘Aren’t you guys going to help me? I’m rubbish at blasting aliens. At least come and tell me what to do.’
‘You need the blastabits,’ Hamish called from the other side of the door. ‘I think I left one in the shoe cupboard.’
‘I can’t hear you through the door. You need to open it.’
‘It’s in the shoe cupboard,’ he shouted, his brothers joining in. I could hear they were close to the door, and felt a twitch of trepidation. After more failed attempts at finding out what was going on, rapidly descending into bribery, threats and, worst of all, the promise to tell their mother, Dawson came out of his room.
‘When’s dinner?’
‘Your mum said you eat at six. It’s only just after five.’
‘When’s she coming home?’
‘She’ll be home in time for dinner.’
‘When, though?’
A muffled shriek from behind the closed door.
‘I don’t know, Dawson. Within an hour. Do you need something? Can I help?’
‘Why are you talking to them through the door?’
‘It won’t open. Does it have a bolt or something on the inside?’
Dawson rolled his eyes. ‘As if.’
‘Have they done this before? Do you know why the door won’t open?’
He shrugged. ‘Mum would get them out.’
‘I’m sure she would. In the meantime, how about you help me try?’
Dawson gave me a flat stare before going up to the door. ‘Open the door. Jenny can’t cook tea while she’s standing here yelling at you idiots.’
‘Dawson! Don’t call them names.’
‘Don’t want any tea,’ Jonno yelled back.
Dawson stomped back into his room. I tried Maddie, instead, who was watching television downstairs.
‘You could look through Mummy and Daddy’s window.’
I ran back upstairs, and found that Ellen and Will’s bedroom stuck out from the back of the house, with a window on the side. If I pressed my face against the glass, it provided a good view into the boys’ room. Maddie followed me, handing over a telescope.
‘Oh, no.’
‘What?’ She tugged on my jumper.
‘The wardrobe is on its side, in front of the door.’
I instructed the boys to empty the wardrobe, and then see if together they could push it away. No good. Time ticked on. I hadn’t started cooking dinner. Shoes, coats, bags and other mess lay strewn about downstairs, and I began to genuinely panic about getting the boys out of the bedroom.
