The icehouse

Source: an original fiction extract.

The field was empty except for the white van. From the road it looked like a discarded toy, small and harmless beneath the grey shoulder of the hill. Inside, Nadia held a microphone against the open window. The wind was perfect for the sound library: a low, steady rush without engines or voices. She watched the recording level rise and fall. Her colleague Owen had gone to photograph the old icehouse at the far end of the field. He had said five minutes. She had enough wind now, but she let the machine run.

A metallic knock entered the headphones. Nadia lowered the microphone, irritated. The van's side door was secure; no branch touched its roof. She listened again. Three knocks, a gap, then three more. On the recording display they appeared as small, evenly spaced teeth. She marked the time so that she could remove them later. Then she saw Owen's camera lying in the grass near the icehouse entrance. Its yellow strap moved in the wind. He was particular about that camera. Even at lunch he put it on his folded jacket, never directly on a table.

She crossed the field, calling his name. At the entrance, a steep stair led below ground. The gate at the top stood open. From the dark beneath it came a knock that was no longer small. Owen called up to her: the inner door had swung shut, and the latch on his side would not lift. Nadia took out her phone. There was no signal. She looked back towards the van, suddenly far away, and saw the gate moving in the wind behind her. She caught it with her shoulder before it struck the stone wall.

The road had been silent for an hour. Nadia wedged the gate open with a stone and ran to the van for the torch and the heavy wheel brace. When she returned, she placed the camera beyond the gate and went down only as far as the closed door. Owen answered at once. Following his description, she shone the light through a gap in the boards. A bent strip of metal blocked the latch. She worked the end of the brace beneath it. The first attempt slipped. She changed her grip. This time the metal rose, and Owen pushed the door open against her hand.

They left the gate wedged open for the site keeper and drove to the road before stopping. Owen held the camera on his knees. Nadia played the recording. The wind filled the van, broad and indifferent; then came the six tiny knocks she had intended to erase. Owen counted them under his breath. She stopped the playback before the next set. Later, when she labelled the file, she wrote the location and the date, but she did not put it in the folder marked Quiet places.

Consider the whole source. Analyse how the writer structures the text to turn an apparently peaceful setting into a source of tension. You could consider changes in focus and pace, the order of revelations and the ending. Support your explanation with references to the source.