Margaret pressed her ear against the door. “Hear anything?” She flapped her hand in annoyance, signalling Jerry to be quiet. She closed her eyes, straining to hear through the wood. Jerry paced across the small room behind her. She concentrated on tuning out the dull thud thud thud of his footsteps. Her teeth clenched, biting back a sharp “Shut up!”. If she made any noise at all this close to the door, they might hear her. She pressed her palms against the wood on either side of her head and eased herself away, careful not to rattle the door in its frame. “Well?” Jerry whispered. She shook her head. “I can’t hear anything but I can’t be sure they’ve gone.” He nodded slowly. “And even if they have gone, they could be back at any moment.” They stared at each other for a moment. Margaret took in Jerry - his dark hair tousled, sticking up at odd angles; the glasses slipping down his nose; his slightly hunched shoulders, more pronounced at that moment as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. He seemed so big in this tiny room that served as their sanctuary. For years, whenever they needed a safe place, somewhere were they could breathe and be alone, they retreated to this room. The simple lock on the door was barely a deterrent to anyone who truly wanted to get inside, but they felt comforted nonetheless when they heard the small click. Now, looking at her husband of eight years, she was struck by his size in comparison to the space. Had the room always been so small? Or were the proverbial walls finally closing in? Perhaps time had run out on their little paradise. Margaret sighed and leaned a shoulder against the wall, suddenly feeling the need for support. “So, what’s the plan?” Jerry was still except for a nervous tapping of this left foot. “We could make a break for it.” The smallest crack of a smile played on his lips and then was gone. “And go where?” Margaret answered quietly. He shrugged. “Away. Anywhere. Just not here.” In her mind’s eye, Margaret pictured the two of them sprinting out the door, hand in hand, feeling the elation of freedom… only to be brought up short by the steely gaze of two very hostile individuals. “You know we can’t. The second we open this door, they’ll be all over us. Like you said - even if they’re gone, they could be back any second. We wouldn’t make it fifty metres without them spotting us. It’s too risky.” The smile on Jerry’s face broke through for real. “The window,” he breathed. “We could climb through the window. Make it out of here and down the road before they had any idea we were gone. We could….” She held up her hand to stop him. She was biting the inside of her cheek, trying her hardest to hold back the laugh building in her throat. The ‘window’ was a small square of glass that slid open just enough to let the summer breeze ruffle the floral curtains. Even if they managed to muffle the sound of broken glass, there was no chance of Jerry’s lanky body and Margaret’s aptly nicknamed birthing hips making it through the frame. Margaret imagined another scene - of her ample bottom wedged in the window as she tried to climb out headfirst, and Jerry’s palms flat against her ass as he tried to push her through. She couldn’t bite her cheek any further without drawing blood and as her teeth unclenched a great bark of laughter escaped as she erupted into loud, hiccuping giggles. Jerry stared at her, wide eyed, but couldn’t keep the grin off his face either and soon his laughter joined her own, as if the same vision was dancing in his head. Thud thud thud thud thud. They froze. Heavy footsteps stopped suddenly outside the door. Jerry raised a finger to his lips. Margaret nodded silently and slowly crept to the other side of the room, farthest from the door. Bang bang bang. A fist pounded on the wood. “You can’t hide in there forever. You will need to come out sometime,” a voice called from the other side. The door handle jangled irritably. “Don’t make us force our way in.” “That lock isn’t going to hold,” Jerry whispered. “If they wanted, they could easily pick it. Clever buggers.” Margaret snorted. “Serves you right for teaching them to pick a lock.” Jerry shrugged again. Margaret was beginning to think this was how his shoulders developed their hunch - perpetual shrugging. “So, what’s the plan?” He sighed and started cleaning his glasses with the hem of his shirt, a habit Margaret recognized as meaning he’d made a decision and needed to think about how to phrase it. “I think,” he said, placing his glasses back on his face,” we’re done for.” Margaret opened her mouth to argue. Surely, there must be some other option. They couldn’t surrender their sanctuary. They just couldn’t. Where would they escape now, when things were hard and loud and frustrating, and they just needed five minutes of quiet? But, deep down, she’d known this day was coming. They’d had six years of peace in their little room. Maybe, in another six, they’d be able to establish another sanctuary. Maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t really need one. Margaret stood straighter and smoothed down the hair in her ponytail. She then reached up and smoothed Jerry’s unruly pieces. “Ok. Ready?” she asked, looking fondly into her husband’s face. “Ready.” He bent down and kissed her cheek. Hand in hand, they stood in front of the bedroom door. Margaret undid the lock, and opened the door wide to see two very hostile individuals standing on the other side. “Kids. What’s up?”