Locked in
Last night was a nightmare …
It all started at half past five … the office was empty … everyone had gone home except for me … and I was getting ready to pack it in for the day.
Maxim called in to say that he was going to go shopping and as he was about to go he turned the key in the lock … and it broke off.
He was very apologetic about it … “I’m sorry,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.
At first, I didn’t understand … and then the penny dropped, as he showed me the key fob with just half the key attached to it. “The other half is in the lock … and I can’t get it out!”, he said.
We called Andrei on his mobile phone and asked him to get the spare key from my flat and try unlocking the door from the other side … but I knew it was no good. These locks jam if there is a key in them on the other side … you can’t push the key in far enough to turn it. But, I thought it was worth a try. Sure enough, however, … it was no good. The key went half way in and no further. It wouldn’t push the remains of the remains of the key on our side of the door out … and it wouldn’t turn. We were stuck.
Now as it happens, there is only one door into the office. It has always worried me as it feels like a potential death trap in the event of a fire, earthquake or some other disaster. Oh, there are windows – but they are all barred … there’s a rishotka (a grill) on each one so that people can’t smash the windows and break in.
That doesn’t always stop them, of course, if they are determined. Burglars are pretty adept at crawling through the smallest gap in order to gain access if they think it is going to be worth their while … even a fortichka, (the little window about 12 inches by 8, which is used for ventilation purposes) … a hole not much bigger that a cat flap. I have even known a case where they not only climbed through a fortichka, but they sawed through the rishotka as well. Not that it did them much good as there was nothing inside to steal apart from the computers – and they were too big to go through the fortichka even if the burglar was nimble enough to climb through it, himself..
I called through the door to go to one of our neighbours and explain the situation … ask them if they can get the number of a locksmith to come and drill out the lock. Andrei has never come across this sort of thing before and it took several attempts to explain what I wanted him to do. Eventually, however, he got the message and I could hear my neighbour’s voice… I am sure I heard her laughing at my predicament … and whilst Maxim was busy trying to prise the remains of the key out of the lock with a pair of tweasers, I turned my attention to the windows.
Fortunately, they were good old fashioned wooden frames, and although they were a bit stiff from lack of use, I managed to open them. That left the rishotka … the windows are a form of “double glazing” in that there are two windows about five inches apart and the rishotka sits in between them. With a trusty screwdriver I attacked the screws holding it in place. I was worried because I thought they too were stiff and I was afraid of damaging the heads … but luck was with me … and one by one they came out.
That’s when my luck seemed to run out … When it came to pulling the rishotka out of the gap, it proved to be larger than the window itself and jammed against the frame … there was only one thing to do … remove the window frame.
One of the frames came off quite easily, but the screws in the other were not only stubborn, they were painted over and refused to budge. I called Maxim to come and help me and we pushed and pulled, twisted and turned … but still it wouldn’t come free.
That’s when our luck turned again and some friends of his came by … we called them over to the window and the smiled – no the laughed at our situation – then they guffawed … but to be fair they also climbed up and with a little bit of extra manpower the rishotka moved and, suddenly came free.
I climbed up onto the windowsill and jumped down to the ground … went round to the door of the building and into the corridor where I found Andrei and my neighbour deep in conversation as to what they could possibly do next to set us free. I am not sure … but I got a definite hint of disappointment creep across her face as she realized that we were free and that the fun and games were more or less over.
Well, of course, they weren’t over. The door was still locked and I couldn’t leave the window open as it was, overnight. We still needed to get the door open.
We called 161 for the Spasenya - the emergency rescue service who gave us the number of a locksmith.
That’s when the rebyata, (lads), really came into their own. I am not sure how they did it, but by twisting and turning the key, (and quite a bit of noise), they managed, somehow, to turn the tiny sliver of metal that had once been part of a key and the door suddenly swung open.
So, no need to drill the lock out of the door.
They turned their attention to the lock but the chamber resolutely refused to budge … it was well and truly stuck in the frame. We didn’t have a drill handy but after some more twisting and turning and more noise from hammering away, eventually the chamber emerged from it’s hole … but by now the lock itself was jammed in the door.
It took another twenty minutes of twisting and turning, shoving this way and that before the phalanges that were blocking the exit of the lock from the door were removed and the lock emerged from the reinforce metal door.
Finally, however, it came out and we turned our attention to replacing the rishotka and the window frame … not to mention tidying up the mess. Now we had to replace the lock and, as it was already getting late, it looked as if there was no way that could be be done until the morning … but somewhere, I was sure that I had another one lying around … somewhere.
I am pleased to say that “all’s well that ends well” … the room secured and a peacefull night ahead … Time for thanks all round and a pizza
But, I don’t want to go through that again. Maybe, I’ll change the door.
Bishkek