Bordash Manor came alive in the daytime. The halls echoed with noise. And more so in the summer, for the old residents had an extra spring in their steps. There was constant shuffling of feet, chatter and sounds from all the activities. Matthew heard all of this from below. All muffled, of course. He always tried to concentrate to see if he could pick up a conversation between residents, but his hearing wasn't super-hero hearing, able to penetrate the cellar's thick walls.

Matthew just wanted to hear a voice that wasn't Miss Thorn's or anyone from her staff. He wanted to hear normal people talking about normal things. He wanted the other children back.

There was no warning the day Julia, Trevor, and the others were taken. They were all sleeping down in the cellar when Miss Thorn came with six men Matthew had never seen before. The men, all giants with bald heads and wearing filthy overalls, each grabbed a child and left as quickly as they came, never coming back.

He found out the reason why they were taken some time later. He had overheard, while doing some nightly cleaning, the end of a conversation between the manor's nurses. Miss Adams was telling Miss Warren, having just seen a resident who wasn't feeling well, that the children were getting too old. 'In no time, they'd be too hard to control. That's what Miss Thorn told me.'

Miss Adams and Miss Warren were like everyone else on Miss Thorn's staff. Not nice. They weren't only the nurses for the old residents, but the children too. 'A child too ill to counterfeit money was no good,' Miss Thorn would always say before Matthew and the others had their monthly checkups.

Matthew could not forget the first time he was so ill he could barely work. It was nearing Christmas time and he had a terrible cold. He had a fever, coughed up a storm, couldn't eat, and the mucus and snot that came out of everywhere was uncontrollable. So as to not spread what he had to the others, Miss Thorn had made him wear a surgical mask at all times while he still worked. And the cold syrup Miss Adams had given him was nearly as bad as Miss Thorn's foot lotion.

During that time, and many others, living down in the cellar was more unbearable than usual. But what made Matthew and the others get through them was each other. Whenever something bad happened to one of the children, the others would always try and make them feel better. Now, there was nobody to make Matthew feel better. He felt utterly lonely.

Well, that was all about to change. First, Matthew was to get a taste of what was to come.

Once in a blue moon Miss Thorn would send a child upstairs to interact with the residents. Matthew had never done it before. It happened in the wintertime when the residents needed some other distraction when outside activities were no longer available, or when potential new residents were coming to have a look around. Miss Thorn thought that some youth would persuade them to make Bordash Manor their home. And it was all under the ruse that the children were there to do some community service.

It was during Matthew's morning counterfeiting session when Miss Thorn came down to get him for this purpose.

'Stop what you're doing,' Miss Thorn demanded the instant she came into the cellar.

Matthew didn't know what was happening, but knew something was up. His first thought was he was going to be taken away, but no men followed Miss Thorn down. Matthew then noticed that Miss Thorn was wearing a different dress than the one she wore at breakfast time. It also looked as if she had freshened up. She wanted to impress someone today, he thought.

'I said, stop what your doing.'

Matthew ceased feeding a gigantic sheet of paper into his printing press, about ready to print a large amount of fifty dollar bills.

'Clean yourself up and get upstairs,' Miss Thorn said, as she unchained Matthew. She looked stressed.

It was so strange being in Miss Thorn's office in the daytime. An intense white light poured through the windows, making the place as bright as Matthew had ever seen it. The last time he had seen sunlight was the day before he arrived at the manor and it took his eyes more than a few moments to get used to it again. He squinted and blinked furiously, which annoyed Miss Thorn very much.

'Quit doing that with your eyes,' she said. 'You look unhinged.'

Matthew opened his eyes as wide as he could make them, even though it hurt, and kept them open. Miss Thorn didn't like the way he looked doing that either.

'What on earth is wrong with you?' She was getting angry. 'Quit doing that too. Look normal, boy.'

Matthew tried relaxing his eyelids.

That seemed to have done the trick because Miss Thorn grunted and went over to her filing cabinet. 'You'll be meeting old fogeys today. Like the other children did.'

Her back facing him, Matthew started to squint and blink again. 'Yes, ma'am.'

'Four new potential residents will be having lunch and will be staying for the afternoon. I want you to meet them, and talk to them and be around them as much as possible. Got that? Understand?'

'Yes, ma'am.'

'You'll be having lunch in the dining room with everyone else today as well. There's no time for me to feed you because I'll be waiting for those four.' She snapped around to face Matthew, who stopped squinting and blinking just in time. 'Wish yourself very lucky.'

'Yes, ma'am.' Matthew had answered with a bit more enthusiasm than usual as his mouth began to water. He couldn't believe it. He was going to have a proper meal. A meal on a plate or in a bowl, and using cutlery. Perhaps a hot meal. Even a lukewarm meal would be welcomed.

Miss Thorn also warned Matthew. 'Let me get this through your head,' she said, coming over to him and bending over almost double so she and him were face to face. Her nose whistled when she breathed. 'Don't you go blabbing the truth to anyone because I'll find out and make you pay. Remember your last punishment? It'll be a hundred times worse than that.'

Matthew definitely remembered. By accident he had messed up a batch of twenty Euro bills and as punishment he was forced to sleep on the roof, up straight and strapped to a tv antenna. The darkness was one thing, but the bats dodging all around was a whole different beast. He knew the bats weren't going to hurt him, for they were just out feeding on flying insects, but still.

'Do you remember your last punishment?' Miss Thorn asked again.

Nodding, Matthew replied, 'I do.'

Miss Thorn went red. 'I do, what?'

'Ma'am,' Matthew said quickly. 'I do, ma'am. I remember my last punishment, ma'am. I never want that to happen again, ma'am.'

Miss Thorn gave out a few heavy breaths, trying to calm herself down. 'I should slap you for your insubordination, boy, but I don't want you going out there with a red mark on your face in the shape of a hand.'

Mark my words, Miss Thorn, I will get my revenge, Matthew said himself.

Miss Thorn stood up. 'To recap, what shouldn't you do?'

'Blab, ma'am.'

'That's right. Anyway, these old farts are senile. They forget what anyone says to them so fast it's rather sad. So, even if you do blab, nothing will come of it.' She pointed over to her desk and to a set of clothes. There was a pair of brown dress shorts, a white collared shirt, a pair of black socks and shiny black shoes. 'You'll be wearing those today. Don't ruin them . . . or there will be consequences.'

The clothes were a tad big for Matthew, the black shoes feeling more like clown shoes or scuba fins, and they smelled like mothballs, but he wasn't complaining. They were a darn sight better than his own clothes. His black t-shirt was too small and had faded to purple, his grey shorts were frayed and holey, and his sneakers looked like something had chewed them up and then spat them back out. He once had socks, but they had disintegrated awhile back.

After Matthew combed his hair with what looked like a dog brush, Miss Thorn ushered him out of her office and toward the dining room.

Matthew felt as though he was visiting Bordash Manor for the first time. It was just so different in the daytime. There were new faces (all with bright and caring smiles for him), new smells (a quarter of which were overpowering perfume fragrances) and new voices.

'What a lovely little boy,' Matthew heard a woman say. He beamed, not minding in the least that the residents were dirtying the floor with their shoes.

And talking about new faces, it looked as if Miss Thorn and her staff had put on ones. All full of cheer, they looked absolutely unrecognizable.

In the dining room, while the old residents took their seats, Miss Thorn guided Matthew to the dancing floor.

What was going on? Was he about to dance with Miss Thorn? Matthew didn't know how to dance. The other children didn't say anything about having to dance with Miss Thorn. He held out his hands and waited for the music to start.

Miss Thorn screwed up her face and whispered from the corner of her mouth, 'Boy, what are you doing? You're really testing my patience today.' Matthew lowered his hands. Miss Thorn then broadcasted, making the dining room go quiet, 'Can I have your attention, everyone? Thank you. We have a visitor today. This is Billy.'

Matthew received more smiles and many waved at him too.

'Wave back, you idiot,' and Matthew did as he was told, smiling too.

'Now,' Miss Thorn said to Matthew but so that everyone could hear, 'I'll be waiting outside for the arrival of some visitors so I'll have to leave you. Don't worry, these nice people will make you feel very welcome. Isn't that right, everyone?'

'That's right,' came a chorus.

'Yeah, we'll take care of him,' someone added, 'show him around the place.'

That almost made Matthew laugh out loud.

'Excellent,' said Miss Thorn. She then said softly to Matthew, 'Behave.'

'Hello, dear,' said an old woman nearby when Miss Thorn walked off, gesturing Matthew to come over. She had rosy red cheeks and wore huge pearl earrings that made her ears sag. 'Come sit with us.'

Relieved he didn't have to dance with Miss Thorn, Matthew nodded and joined the old woman and the five others at her table.

One of the cook's helpers, Miss O'Neil, came over shortly after. She was a plump woman and had a flattened face. She gave Matthew a smirk.

Matthew really hated that smirk. He would see it all the time when he cleaned the kitchen. The cook, Miss Walter, a woman with a moustache that could rival any man's, and Miss O'Neil would douse the kitchen floor with soap and they would just watch him work, that smirk on her face. Matthew somewhat enjoyed slipping and sliding around while he cleaned, but that smirk . . .

'What would you like to eat for lunch?' Miss O'Neil asked the table. She had a piece of paper and pen.

Matthew ordered last and was going to have what everyone else was having, barley and vegetable soup with a wholegrain bun.

While they waited for their food, Matthew got to know everyone around the table. He told them he lived in the next town with his doctor parents, a lie to tell that Miss Thorn had made up for him, and everyone told him about their real ones. The woman who had invited him over used to work in a factory making cotton swabs. Matthew really liked talking to them.

What he liked even more was lunch. It was as if he was having food for the first time. He was in heaven. But that feeling was short lived, for Mrs Jacobs came over and whispered to him, 'Miss Thorn is still waiting on the visitors. She'll come get you when they arrive.'

After lunch, everyone stayed in the dining room to play bingo. Matthew didn't win anything, but the man sitting next to him did, receiving a gift certificate to a tea room in town. Matthew did get bingo a few times, but Mrs Jacobs had warned him that if he ever got bingo to never call it out. 'Winning and the prizes are for the fossils, not for little pests like you.'

The visitors still hadn't arrived when it was time for afternoon activities. Miss Thorn, whose fake cheerfulness was starting to show signs of cracking at the delay, told Matthew to go mingle with more of the old residents.

And so he did, first helping out a couple of men build a birdhouse in the manor's workshop and then going to the study to knit with a few women. He wasn't very good at knitting, but one of the women knitted him a brand new pair of socks, which he was very grateful for.

Matthew then played pool in the games room before being taken to the rose garden to help out with some pruning. Apart from the gardener, who was eyeing him as if he was about to jump over the ten-foot stone wall surrounding the manor's back property, Matthew enjoyed his time outside the most. Smelling the fresh air, and, of course, the roses, was magical.

Mrs Jacobs was waiting for Matthew outside the garden shed after he had returned a pair of shears. 'The fun's over,' she said to him and secretly whisked him away to Miss Thorn's office, where he was told by Miss Thorn to get down to the cellar. Miss Thorn did not look happy. Matthew guessed that the visitors weren't going to show up.

He was right, getting the story from Miss Thorn when he went to clean her office at the usual time. She hadn't said anything at dinner because Matthew didn't have dinner that night. 'You had enough food at lunch.'

'I was waiting and waiting for them for ages before they had the decency to phone,' Miss Thorn began her rant, swinging on her rocking chair and getting quite a bit of height. Matthew was sweeping the floor. 'Bloody old farts. Delayed. Car broke down on their way to Eagle Falls. May take days to fix. Ha! Broke down, my hip. I bet you they hit something. Dangerous and careless drivers old people are . . . the lot of them. You know what? Once you hit a certain age, you should be banned from driving.'

She wasn't done there, straying off into another subject. 'Do you know what? I hope they hit a dog. I really hate dogs. Mrs Wilbury's puppy came up to me today and started jumping on me and digging its claws into my leg. That little you-know-what ruined my dress. The best dog is a dead dog, I say.'

'Two days ago,' Matthew heard the newswoman say when Miss Thorn finished her tirade, 'I told you about those bees that had made a home at the water tower. Well, an exterminator was supposed to get rid of them but it seems the little things slipped the noose. The exterminator showed up and they had disappeared, gone without a trace.'

'Bloody bees,' said Miss Thorn. 'If bees made a home here, I would spray them with the most powerful stuff until they all disintegrated – boy, get back to work.'

Matthew was staring out of the window. Something had caught his eye. He was sure it was a glint of light but it wasn't there anymore.

A sandal came whizzing passed his ear, and he snapped to face Miss Thorn. She looked as if she was about to go off on him when the radio began to act up again. Static filled the room like smoke and then the voice Matthew had heard the previous time spoke.

'Slink?' the voice said. 'Hello? Hello? Hellooooooooooooooooowwwwwwwaaaa?'

Miss Thorn's high pitched scream was long and deafening. It was so long and deafening that Matthew didn't hear the radio smashing on the floor the first time, the second time or the third time, it looking unrecognizable in the end.

Massaging Miss Thorn's feet that night was by far the most hostile Matthew had experienced. Without the radio to listen to, Miss Thorn gave him her full attention.