At the bottom of the stairs there was a dimly lit hallway with rooms on either side. Each of the roughly hewn doors had bars in small window openings....It was obvious these rooms were jail cells. Our footsteps echoed on the slate stone floor as we walked. It gave me an eerie feeling knowing this place was over eight hundred years old. I’ve had a fear of dark confined places since I was a child and this triggered phobia’s within me I had long forgotten existed. I grasped Kurt’s hand and squeezed. "Nay problem, ye can share mine!" she says."Wabbout me?" says Martha?"I think I can find room," Old Jock says greedily gazing at Martha's tits."I'll sleep in the van," I says."After you've had ye're breakfast." old jock insisted.I should have said no, fucking boomerang breakfast it was, black pudding, haggis, kipper, all cooked in axle grease and it all came back up a half hour later, fucking jocks.I had a bit of a kip, the rain lashing the van made kipping an uphill struggle but I got some. More

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