The potential new residents had made Miss Thorn livid when they didn't show up. But also when did finally show their faces.

'You missed a spot,' Mrs Jacobs said to Matthew from behind the front desk in the entrance hall. The glow from her green lamp and her green cardigan made her look like a nasty ogre.

On the bottom rung of the rickety wooden ladder, just about ready to step off, Matthew looked at Mrs Jacobs. He had just climbed all the way down from the top and his legs were tired and aching. 'Ma'am?'

'I said you missed a spot, cloth ears.' Mrs Jacobs pointed aimlessly at the chandelier while taking a sip from her mug of hot chocolate, the aroma of which was so delicious and intoxicating, Matthew thought he was about to pass out.

'Yes, ma'am,' replied Matthew. He gave a quiet sigh and started back up the ladder.

When he reached the top, however, Mrs Jacobs said with a grin, 'Never mind. I must have been seeing things.'

At that moment, Matthew felt like jumping off the top of the ladder and landing on Mrs Jacobs, quite positive he could do it. He used to watch wrestling on tv every Sunday with his grandfather and wrestlers jumping off ladders and landing on their opponents with ease was a common occurrence. If they could do it why couldn't he. Now, how could he do it without hitting Mrs Jacobs' mug of hot chocolate? He really wanted some.

A knock at the door gave Matthew a start, breaking his wonderful contemplation and making him loose his balance. He almost fell but with reflexes like a cat, he grabbed the ladder, making it wobble, and hugged it for dear life. The wobbling eventually stopped. Phew, that was close, he thought. Mrs Jacobs had been surprised too, spitting hot chocolate all down her cardigan.

The phone on the front desk began to ring. This gave Mrs Jacobs another surprise and she fell off her chair with a great big thump right on her backside.

Another knock on the door came.

Mrs Jacobs trying to get up from the floor was a comedy of errors. She tried to roll forward onto her feet but she just fell back on her backside. She then tried to use her chair to get some leverage but the chair had wheels and it just rolled back, making her fall face first into the marble floor. Finally she got to her feet, immediately picking up the phone.

'Bordash Manor, how may I help you?' She sounded winded. 'Oh, it's you. Yeah, I know. Didn't you see them coming up to the manor on your monitors? 'Well, they couldn't have appeared out of thin air, could they?' She put the phone down. 'Useless security guards. Strange. I wonder who it is?'

A melody of knocks echoed all around the entrance hall.

'Is there a door bell?' Matthew heard a voice from outside say. It sounded female. 'There has to be a doorbell . . . this place is huge.'

'Oh look at this,' said another voice, 'a door knocker that looks like a growling bear.'

BANG! BANG! BANG!

'Boy!' Mrs Jacobs said, clicking her fingers to get Matthew's attention, 'get down and go get Miss Thorn. Tell her someone's at the front door.'

Matthew was back in no time.

'Who is it?' a flustered Miss Thorn asked Mrs Jacobs. 'Cops?'

Matthew was wishing for that.

Mrs Jacobs, her hot chocolate soaked cardigan now off, had an eye up to the front door's peek hole and her left hand was covering the inner flap of the mail slot. Whoever was outside must have tried to look through it.

'I highly doubt that,' answered Mrs Jacobs. 'There are two men and two women. All very old.'

'Old? Could they be some of ours?'

'Definitely not.'

'Well I guess that's a relief. If it got out we left residents outside during the night. . . .' Miss Thorn turned to Matthew. 'Go to my office and wait there. Close the door and touch nothing.'

'Yes, ma'am.'

'Now,' said Miss Thorn, turning back to Mrs Jacobs and tidying herself up, 'let's see what they want, shall we?'

Matthew was very curious as to who was calling at this hour. So with nobody watching, he dashed off behind a stone statue of a lion nearby. Then peeking, he saw Miss Thorn opening the front door.

On the manor's front step stood four old people, all skinny and very small.

As a waft of air from the outside reached Matthew, he wondered if they had shrunk. They were that small. The same height as him. His grandmother had once told him people can shrink as they age. It was to do with their bones deteriorating, or something like that.

'Good evening,' said one of the women. Her thin face was extremely wrinkled, with several large flaps of skin moving when she spoke (the faces of the others were as wrinkled and flappy as her's.) She had short curly white hair and wore a gown with big shoulder pads. 'My name's Mary, Miss Mary Smart.'

The woman beside her said, 'I'm Miss Susan Brock.' She had green eyes, which were the same color as the front desk's lamp and almost as bright. She also had sparkling white teeth, which appeared very real.

'Mr Kyle Xavier,' said the man with the eyepatch and crooked nose.

'I'm Thomas Reed, howdie,' the other man said in a very slow and strained voice through his great grey moustache. He wore a very old-looking tweed cap, which he tipped to Miss Thorn.

Matthew noticed Miss Smart, Miss Brock and Mr Xavier briefly shoot Mr Reed a glare.

'Good evening,' said Miss Thorn, in a welcoming tone. 'I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow. I'm Miss Thorn.'

'We just got into town and we thought why not pop up to the manor,' said Miss Smart.

'Well, it's a pleasure to meet you,' said Miss Thorn. Through the doorway she shook the new arrivals' hands. 'Please come in.'

The four slowly walked inside, each hunched over a cane and looking pained with every step.

'How did you get here?' said Miss Thorn, poking her head outside. She sounded confused. 'Your car? Taxi?'

'No, we walked up from our hotel,' said Miss Smart.

That must have taken them ages, thought Matthew.

'Wow,' said Mr Xavier. He was gawping at the entrance hall.

'Indeed,' said Miss Brock.

'Absolutely breathtaking,' said Miss Smart.

'Thank you very much,' said Miss Thorn, closing the door and locking it. 'May I introduce to you my assistant, Mrs Jacobs.'

'Plllleassssssure,' said Mr Reed. He tipped his cap at Mrs Jacobs before taking it off and shoving it in her hand.

'Pleasure's all mine,' Mrs Jacobs droned, clearly offended that Mr Reed had thought her a coat stand.

'Sorry about the ladder,' said Miss Thorn. 'We're doing a bit of maintenance on the chandelier. It's easier doing it at night. Maintenance is checking the electrics and changing the bulbs.'

'It's a lovely chandelier,' said Miss Smart. 'Enormous.'

'Tell me about it,' Matthew said to himself.

'If you like, I could give you four a tour of the manor now,' said Miss Thorn. 'You know, since you're here.'

'Wweeeee wwwwoooulddd aapp—'

'—appreciate that,' said Mr Xavier, finishing for Mr Reed.

'Excellent. I'll also show you the rooms that'll be yours if you decide to move here,' said Miss Thorn. 'Sadly you won't be meeting any of the other residents while I take you around . . . they're all asleep. But you will have plenty of time tomorrow to meet many of them when you come for lunch. All right then –' she clapped her hands together '– shall we proceed.' She led Miss Smart, Miss Brock, Mr Xavier and Mr Reed toward the study. 'So, how do you like The Village Inn? That's where you're staying in town, right?'

'It is, and it's wonderful,' said Miss Brock. 'Not as wonderful as this place, though.'

'The pillows are a bit too soft for my liking,' said Mr Reed, 'and the sheets are itchy, but they have a lot of free stuff to pinch. There's soap, shampoo, conditioner, shower gel, lotion, toilet paper, pens. I'm going to fill up my suitcase before we checkout.'

After watching them disappear down a hall, and after seeing Mrs Jacobs walk back to her seat at the front desk grumbling about something (probably Mr Reed), Matthew went to Miss Thorn's office. He plonked himself down on the rocking chair and stayed there until he heard Miss Thorn outside the door an hour later, swiftly vacating to the other side of the room.

'Thank goodness that's over with,' Miss Thorn said, staggering into her office. She flopped down on her rocking chair and gave out a puff. 'Slow as snails those shrimps were. And how are they still awake? They're old . . . they should've been asleep hours ago.' Shaking her head, she added, 'Coming up here and messing with my routine.' She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, scrunching up her face. Then pointing at Matthew, she said, 'Have you been sitting here? It's warm.'

'No, ma'am,' replied Matthew, his face portraying complete innocence. 'Certainly not, ma'am. I wouldn't dream about doing that, ma'am.'

Miss Thorn eyed him for several seconds before saying, 'Get back to cleaning. So you know, someone knocked over and broke several clay pots in the conservatory. I want you to glue them back together. Got that?'

'Yes, ma'am.'

Staring up at the ceiling, Miss Thorn said, 'I'll need to keep an eye out for that Mr Reed.'

Matthew wondered if he was going to be sent upstairs again to hang out with the visitors once and for all. He was. He was also going to have lunch again in the dining room, with them.