Following his encouraging noises Emma still kept one hand on the wall, and worried about the noises following them down the corridor. They seemed to get closer and then withdraw as Mr Cat meowed or purred. It seemed to take forever to find him, but Emma did, and dropped down to a crouch to stroke and fuss him, "What is it Mr Cat? Did you find the door for me?"
She stretched a hand out in front of her, relieved to feel the wooden door, but she couldn't find the handle. Had there been one on this side? She couldn't remember.