Harold hurried through the house. With everyone outside defending the manor from the golem, it seemed eerily quiet. For a moment he imagined himself alone in the world and found the thought oddly disturbing. Then the shade of his Uncle Hrederick appeared and his melancholy vanished.“Uncle? Where are Molly and Lucy?”
“In the priest hole. Why aren't you out fighting the hun?”
“The hun? That war was over a long time ago. The one out there's a golem.”
“But I saw it on telly last week. Looked just like that one. There was a war on and everything.”
“There's always a war on somewhere, Uncle. In the mean time I want you to help Gillian stall the golem while I fetch Lucy.”
“You're leaving a sinking ship?”
“Uncle Frederick, much as I love you I don't have time to debate the symantics of metaphor. This is neither a ship nor is it sinking. I need Lucy because I believe she is the only one of us who actually has a hope of defeating the thing outside.”
“What do you expect me to do about it?”
“I don't know. Scramble its sensors or something.”
“And how do I do that? Gillian said it's not electronic.”
“Well..” Harold held his hands up hopelessly. “Just give it a go,”
“I can't promise anything, Harold, but I'll try.”
“You always manage to disrupt the television when I'm watching it.” Harold set off at a half-run. “I'll be as quick as I can.”
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