Another empty room greeted her. She ignored the dirty underwear and socks lying scattered on the floor like a Tracey Emin piece.
Something was wrong and she knew it. As a mother, her alarm bells had begun to ring.
‘Colin?! Answer me! I’m worried now!’
That strange muffled sob could be heard yet again.
‘Where are you? You’re proper scaring me!’
There is was again. Only this time it sounded like it was trying to say mum.
She turned around and fainted on the spot.
Behind her, within the fabric of the wall itself, like Han Solo frozen in carbonite, were Colin’s unmistakably Concorde-long nose, rubber lips and a knee, poking out towards the landing.