Father’s eyes lit up, staring fixedly in Mother’s direction.“Maybe just one” he mouthed soundlessly, before clearing his throat and in his bes... voice of gentle authority: “We talked about this earlier, you guys. The gifts will be right there tomorrow morning, waiting for you. They’re not going anywhere. Now come on.”“Come on” Mother reinforced, lending her daughter a hand off the adult-sized chair she insisted on using as a grown-up preschooler. She led them both upstairs. By the time she’d. Use the knocker and they will let you in.” I didn't need to me told twice so I turned and followed her directions.As the young woman had said, just behind the stage was indeed a small wooden arched door. A typical medieval style door of solid wood and black iron fittings. In the centre was a large old knocker. It was shaped to represent a grotesque creature's face holding the ring of the knocker in its mouth. My heart was in my mouth as I carefully lifted the ring and banged it three times in. More

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