The green door opened very slowly.
Mara and Pip stood perfectly still.
Beyond it was not the corridor.
It was a garden.
There was a crooked path through the grass, a stone fountain, three apple trees and a house at the far end.
The house was blue.
Or perhaps it was grey.
It depended, Mara thought, on which way she looked at it.
“That's not the library,” said Pip.
“No.”
“Good.”
“Why is that good?”
“I was worried we'd gone back.”
Mara stepped through the door.
The grass was damp.
Pip followed.
The green door swung shut behind them.
There was no wall.
There was no library.
There was only the garden.
And the house.
Mara walked towards it.
As she got closer, she noticed something peculiar.
The house had two front doors.
They were identical.
Both were painted blue.
Both had brass knockers.
Both had little round windows.
Between them was a brass plaque.
Mara leaned closer.
It said:
THIS IS THE FRONT DOOR.
Pip read it.
Then he looked at the other door.
“That one says the same thing.”
“It does.”
“Then one of them is lying.”
“Which one?”
Pip thought.
“The one we're not standing in front of.”
Mara laughed.
“That's not how lying works.”
“How do you know?”
“I don't.”
Pip nodded thoughtfully.
“Then perhaps it is.”
Mara opened the left-hand door.
Inside was a hallway.
A long hallway.
There was a staircase, a coat stand, a grandfather clock and several pictures.
Mara stepped in.
Pip followed.
The door closed behind them.
“Seems ordinary,” he said.
Mara looked at the staircase.
There were seven steps.
She counted them again.
Seven.
“That's odd.”
“What?”
“The house is very large.”
“Yes.”
“But there are only seven steps.”
Pip shrugged.
“Perhaps the upstairs is small.”
Mara climbed them.
At the top was another hallway.
It looked exactly like the one below.
Same carpet.
Same pictures.
Same clock.
Same coat stand.
Same staircase.
Mara turned around.
Pip was still standing at the bottom.
“Come on.”
“I'm coming.”
He climbed the stairs.
When he reached the top, Mara looked back down.
There was no hallway below.
There was a second staircase.
It went down to another landing.
Pip stared.
“That's not the same staircase.”
“It was.”
“How do you know?”
“I climbed it.”
“That doesn't prove anything.”
“What would prove it?”
Pip considered this.
“Climbing it twice.”
Mara walked down the second staircase.
Pip followed.
At the bottom was another hallway.
Same carpet.
Same pictures.
Same clock.
Same coat stand.
And another staircase.
Pip sat down.
“I think the house is repeating.”
Mara sat beside him.
“Perhaps.”
“That's impossible.”
“Yes.”
“Shouldn't you sound more worried?”
“I am.”
“You don't sound worried.”
“I've decided to worry quietly.”
Pip looked at the nearest picture.
It showed a garden.
In the garden was a blue house.
In front of the house were two children.
One was Mara.
The other was Pip.
Pip stood up.
“I don't like that.”
Mara looked at the picture.
The children in it were standing in front of the other blue door.
The right-hand door.
“That's us.”
“Yes.”
“But we haven't been there.”
“No.”
“Not yet.”
Mara looked at him.
“Why did you say yet?”
Pip looked uncomfortable.
“I don't know.”
The grandfather clock began to tick.
They both turned towards it.
It had no hands.
Yet it was ticking.
Mara walked over.
On the clock face was a little brass door.
She opened it.
Inside was a tiny hallway.
At the end of the hallway was a tiny blue house.
Pip came to look.
“That's the house.”
“Yes.”
“It's inside the clock.”
“Yes.”
“Then where are we?”
Mara thought about this.
“Inside the house.”
Pip nodded.
“That's what I was afraid of.”
A sound came from somewhere above them.
Footsteps.
Slow footsteps.
Someone was walking along the floor upstairs.
Mara looked at the staircase.
“Perhaps there's someone else here.”
Pip shook his head.
“I don't think so.”
“How do you know?”
“Because they're walking like they know where they're going.”
The footsteps stopped.
Then came three knocks.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Mara froze.
“That sounds familiar.”
“Yes.”
“It's the knocking from the wall.”
Pip looked at her.
“Then perhaps the wall is here too.”
Mara suddenly had an idea.
“Come on.”
They ran.
Up the staircase.
Down the hallway.
Through a door.
Up another staircase.
Past the clock.
Through another door.
Down a narrow passage.
At last they reached a room with two windows.
Through one window was the garden.
Through the other was the library.
Mara pressed her face against the glass.
The old library wall was outside.
There was the crack shaped like a duck.
There was the pavement.
There was the street.
And there, standing on the pavement, was Mara.
Mara stepped backwards.
Pip stared through the window.
“That's you.”
“Yes.”
“And that's me.”
“Yes.”
They were watching themselves.
Outside, the other Mara looked up.
She saw them.
She raised a hand.
Mara raised hers.
The other Pip waved his biscuit.
Pip looked down at his own hand.
He was not holding a biscuit.
“That is extremely unsettling,” he said.
Outside, the other Mara pointed towards the library wall.
Then she knocked on the glass.
Three times.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Mara answered.
Three times.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
The other Mara smiled.
Then she stepped away from the window.
Mara watched her walk towards the green door.
“No,” she whispered.
The other Mara opened it.
The door disappeared.
The garden vanished.
The window became an ordinary window.
Pip stared.
“What happened?”
Mara didn't answer.
She was looking at the other window.
The one that showed the garden.
Except now the garden was empty.
The blue house stood at the far end.
There were two houses.
One stood behind the other.
Mara rubbed her eyes.
The nearer house had two front doors.
The farther house had two front doors.
And through the window of the farther house she could see two children looking back at her.
One of them was holding a biscuit.
Pip slowly took a biscuit from his pocket.
He looked at it.
Then at the window.
“I think,” he said, “I'm beginning to understand.”
“What?”
“The house doesn't have two insides.”
Mara looked at him.
“What does it have?”
Pip pointed at the two houses.
“Two outsides.”
Mara stared.
Then the grandfather clock struck thirteen.
The whole house gave a small, polite shudder.
And somewhere below them, a door opened.
Mara and Pip looked at each other.
“Which way?” asked Pip.
Mara looked at the two staircases.
For the first time, she noticed something she hadn't noticed before.
One staircase had eight steps.
The other had seven.
She smiled.
“Let's take the one that wasn't there before.”
They ran downstairs.
Behind them, the house quietly rearranged itself.
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