The corridor stretched away into the distance with an equally imposing set of doors at the far end.
We moved along slowly until we’d walked three quarters of its length. Marlon pointed to the floor nearing
the second doors. It was absolutely rotten, the timbers soaked from a hole in the roof caused by the fire.
We could see beyond the second door to an empty space; whatever stood beyond those doors was now long gone.
But our primary concern was the rotten flooring and the three storey drop through the Barley Kiln below us.
Gingerly, noticing the position of the joists we retraced our steps. I recalled a similar floor at Ditchingham
Maltings; Tom and I had crossed the rotten floor in that circumstance. At least we’d realised the danger
and not continued this time.
Still, there was the nagging thought that every time I visited a maltings plant, I would somehow end up in a
corridor several storeys up and discover the dodgy floor.