“The next morning, I went down into the cellar with my younger brother Tom. It was large and divided into a number of meaningless rooms.”

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“The coal hole gave on to the largest of the rooms and the bags were strewn as they had fallen over what remained of last year’s coal. Along one wall was a massive tin chest, something to do with my father’s brief time in the army and used for a while to hold the coke separate from the coal.”

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“It was empty and blackened, so black that in this dusty light we could not see the bottom. Believing he was staring into a deep hole, Tom gripped the edge and shouted into the trunk and waited for his echo.”

 

McEwan Ian: The Cement Garden 1978