The Beast of Buckingham Palace. David Walliams

arms. Alfred took a deep breath and pulled again. Harder this time. Still nothing. Then he closed his eyes, and yanked the ends of the coat hangers as hard as he possibly could.

      SUCCESS!

      The whole window came loose. Now a huge slab of glass was coming straight towards him!

      WHOOSH!

      It was so heavy it could flatten him.

      Just in time, he caught it in his hands.

      CHONK!

      “OOF!”

      Immediately Alfred realised he wasn’t strong enough to keep holding it, and so lowered it to the floor as slowly and silently as he could.

      THUNK!

      A blast of cold air swept into his bedroom.

      WHISH!

      Alfred hadn’t breathed air from the outside for as long as he could remember.

      Next, he peered out. There was a drainpipe on the wall within arm’s reach that he might be able to climb down. However, he couldn’t just leave the window frame lying there. A missing window on the side of Buckingham Palace would arouse suspicion. So, he righted it, swapped the coat hangers to the other side, and stepped out on to the slippery windowsill.

Suddenly, it dawned on Alfred that it was an awfully long way down from the top of the palace to the bottom. If he lost his grip, he’d be nothing more than human jam.*

      Next, using his weight as a lever, he pulled the window back into place from the outside.

      SHTONK!

      Then, summoning all his strength, Alfred shimmied over to the drainpipe.

      Avoiding the royal guard’s searchlights that raked the walls day and night looking for intruders, the boy slid over to the side.

      Right next to his room was the King’s bedroom. He and the Queen had had separate bedrooms for as long as Alfred could remember.

      The room was vast, with a huge four-poster bed, two sofas arranged around a coffee table and a marble fireplace. From outside the window, Alfred saw his father sitting alone on the end of his bed. The man stared straight ahead. At first Alfred was worried that his father had glimpsed him. But no. The man was staring into space.

      The King rubbed the palms of his hands. That is where those strange cuts were.

      Just then, the door to the King’s bedroom opened.

      CLICK!

      It was the Lord Protector. Alfred ducked out of view.

      Then, after a few moments, the boy lifted his head so he could peer through the window again.

      He could see the Lord Protector leading his father off somewhere. But where?

      As the King’s bedroom door closed behind them, Alfred began his

      slow

      descent

      down

      the

      drainpipe.

      The next window was the library. This was one of the largest rooms in the palace, stocked from top to bottom with antique books, all of them extraordinary. Some even unique.

      Alfred was surprised NOT to see the Lord Protector in the library. He was often to be found there alone, reading late into the night. The library was where the man had begun his career at Buckingham Palace, all those years ago when he was just a humble librarian. This was decades before he became Lord Protector.

      There was a narrow gap in the curtains, and Alfred manoeuvred himself closer to the glass, so he could peek through.

      The lights were out, and the room was dark.

      But the light of a candle flickered in the gloom.

      There was a lone figure with their back to the window. Who were they? And what were they doing?

      It was hard to make out. Alfred kept very still and watched.

      Someone was trying to force open the cabinet that held the most special books. Frantically, though. As if their life depended on it.

      Alfred pressed his face right up against the window to get a better look, but as he did so he lost his footing for a moment, and his head hit the glass.

      THUNK!

      Immediately, the candle was blown out, and the library was plunged into darkness.

      Alfred moved out of sight of the window.

      Just then a searchlight came towards him.

      Were the royal guards going to shoot him from the ground?

      Alfred stayed as still as the stone gargoyle right next to him on the wall of the palace as the searchlight passed over him. The prince didn’t even dare take a breath.

      Then he heard the sound of the window opening.

      SHUNT!

      Just as he tried to hurry back up the drainpipe, a hand reached out of the window, and yanked him inside.

      “ARGH!” he screamed.

* Human jam is considered to be the most revolting of all the jams. Other unpopular varieties include: