As it happened, the rock on which St Andrews Castle is built was too tough and too difficult to excavate, so neither side made it all the way through, but the aborted tunnels are still there. For me, they’re the most interesting part of the place, and they’re always my first port of call. The tunnel to the outside is as you’d expect low and narrow, and so we had to slide in.
‘Follow me, now,’ I told the boys. I felt a hand gripping the leg of my jeans.
‘Didn’t they hear each other tunnelling Uncle Oz?’ asked Jonathan.
‘No one really knows. Maybe they did; maybe that’s why they both stopped.’
‘How did the siege end?’
‘The Reformers were starved out in the end. They surrendered; Knox was sent to the galleys for his pains. He was lucky he didn’t go the same way as Wishart and Beaton.
‘You all right, Colin?’ I called back. There was no answer. ‘Colin!’ I shouted again.
‘He’s not here Uncle Oz,’ said Jonathan. ‘He was here to begin with, but he’s not now.’
‘The wee sod! Come on, let’s back out of here and find him.’
‘He’ll have gone to find the Bottle Dungeon. That’s what he wanted to see first.’
‘He’ll have a close-up view of the back of my hand,’ I muttered. ‘Come on.’ Jonathan, impressed by my threat, trotted along at my side as I set off across the open castle green to the seaward wall, beneath which the Dungeon was hollowed out. I expected to find the wee chap waiting for me, wearing his patented guilty look which he knew always softened me up, but there was no sign of him. In fact there was no one to be seen.
The old familiar tension in my stomach began as soon as we reached the old cell. Naturally, Historic Scotland, which manages the place for the Nation, doesn’t want to put the punters in peril, so there’s a protective grille over the hole through which the tenants were dropped in.
The grille had been removed; it was lying at the side of the entrance. Jonathan ran over to it and picked it up, as if to replace it. He’s a strong wee lad, but I could see that it was heavy for him.
‘Put that down,’ I snapped. He isn’t used to having me speak sharply to him, so he did as he was told, at once. I dropped to my knees beside the Dungeon, and looked down, but it seemed pitch-dark. I moved around to the other side, allowing as much light in as possible, and leaned into the narrow opening.
‘Colin!’ I shouted, but there was no reply. I peered into the enclosure, and gradually my eyes became accustomed to the light.
There was, indeed, a figure down there: a small figure, maybe ten feet below me on the floor of the old Bottle. And he wasn’t moving.
I turned to Jonathan. ‘Run to the kiosk. Tell the man there that there’s been an accident, and that I want him to close the place and get over here fast.’
My nephew’s young face twisted with anxiety. ‘Is Colin all right, Uncle Oz?’
‘That’s what we’re going to find out, pal. You do what I tell you and it’ll help. Oh yes, and ask the man to bring a torch, and a ladder.’ As Jonathan sprinted off towards the entrance, I took out my cellphone and called the emergency services, asking for an ambulance to the Castle, full speed.
I didn’t wait for the man with the ladder; instead I gripped the edge of the hole and lowered myself in, pushing myself off and jumping the last few feet, taking care not to land on the wee chap. I knelt beside him in the gloom. He was lying on his left side; very gently, I stroked his cheek. ‘What have you been up to now, Colin, my wee man?’
Never in my life have I been so glad to hear a child whimper. ‘Sore,’ he moaned.
‘Where, son?’
‘My shoulder.’
Remembering the first aid that my Dad had taught me, I held Colin’s wrist and found his pulse. It was fast, but strong and steady. ‘That’s good,’ I told him. ‘Do you hurt anywhere else?’
‘My head, Uncle Oz,’ His whisper sounded fuzzy and dazed, ‘and my neck.’ He stirred slightly, then cried out in pain. I guessed that he must be lying on the damaged shoulder, so, as carefully and slowly as I could, I put both hands under him and turned him on to his back. His eyes were almost closed, and I could see a lump and a big graze on his left temple.
‘There,’ I murmured. ‘That’ll be easier. Now I want you to lie very still until the ambulance people get here. Don’t even talk, if you can manage that. God, fella, your Mum said you were into everything, but I didn’t think you’d go this far. She’s going to murder me, I tell you.’
‘What’s going on down there?’ The shout came from above.
‘You’ve got a six-year-old prisoner,’ I called back. ‘The ambulance is on its way. You got a ladder?’
‘Aye, and a torch.’
‘Slide the ladder down here, leave me your torch and go and wait for the ambulance.’
The attendant did as he was told. ‘Is the wee boy all right?’ he asked as I climbed a few rungs to take the light from him.
‘No,’ I told him, a bit roughly, I’m afraid. ‘He’s quite badly shaken up and he may have broken his collar-bone. You’re going to have to explain to me how he came to fall in here.’ His mouth opened as if in protest. ‘But not yet,’ I snapped. ‘Go and wait for the ambulance.’
There is no group of health workers whose members are more professional and skilled than the paramedics. . I’m glad to say. The ambulance team was on the scene within ten minutes of my call. I explained what had happened, then climbed out of the Dungeon as they began to fit my nephew with a neck brace and to strap him, slowly and tenderly, to a lifting board.
The attendant was with Jonathan as I emerged into the sunshine; the few other people who had been in the Castle were standing around, looking on.
‘Okay,’ I said to the man. ‘Why the hell wasn’t that grille in place?’
‘It was, sir, I’m sure,’ he protested, in a light Highland accent. ‘The janitor goes down into the Dungeon every morning to clear up the rubbish that folk have dropped down the day before. He wouldna’ leave it uncovered. The wee boy must have lifted it off himself.’
‘The wee boy is six years old, and as far as I know neither of his parents come from the planet Krypton. He could no more lift that than he could fly, see through walls or leap tall buildings at a single bound.’
‘Well he must have dragged it then.’
‘Crap!’ I said, tersely, my anger fuelled, I must confess, by my fear of having to face my sister. ‘Did you see the Dungeon after your janitor had finished here? Did you, personally, see that cover in place?’
Reluctantly, the man shook his head. ‘No, but-’
‘But nothing. I want to talk to the janitor.’
‘He’s on his break, sir.’
The man was behaving very reasonably, but that cut no ice with an angry Blackstone. ‘Well put him together again and get him here,’ I barked at the poor sod.
Relief came his way in the form of one of the paramedics, who tapped me on the shoulder. ‘Excuse me sir, but first things first,’ he said. ‘I need a hand to lift your nephew out of there. My colleague will stay down there to steer, like, and make sure he doesnae get another bump on the way up.’
I nodded. ‘Sure. How do you think he is?’
‘He’s broken his shoulder right enough, and he’s dazed. They’ll have to check for a possible skull fracture, but I’d say he’ll be all right.’
Relief flooded through me as I helped the green-suited ambulance crewman lift wee Colin, secured on the board, out of his temporary prison. ‘Since it’s a child, we’ll need you to come to Ninewells in the ambulance with us, sir, or follow right behind in your car.’
‘Jonathan and I will come with you,’ I told him, then turned back to the attendant. ‘I want you to report this to the police.’ I took out a business card and scribbled Colin’s name and address on the back. ‘Those are his details, and my mobile number’s on there too.’
Chapter 27
There was a moment when I thought that Ellie as going to take my head clean off at the shoulders, and that the Ninewells Accident and Emergency department was going to face its biggest ever challenge.