I cry out – I’m not sure what I say – but Old Me looks up suddenly, and I feel the same jolt of panic as when Rich glanced round to see me in the park. This time, though, it’s not the shock of being spotted; it’s horror at the expression etched deep into my weathered old face. My eyes are glazed and vacant. I look tired and broken and defeated.

And that’s when the dream finally buckles and comes apart, the room starts collapsing piece by piece, crumbling and dissolving and melting until there’s nothing left except …

‘Ben? Ben … Are you awake?’

Chapter Forty-Eight

‘Ben?’

I try to lift my head, but I can’t; it’s too heavy.

I’m lying down, my face pressed against a hard surface, and my whole body feels brittle and stiff, like I haven’t moved in days.

There’s no motion sickness or dizziness like there usually is after a jump; it just feels like I’ve been asleep for about a decade, like my brain is floating slowly to the surface from the bottom of a deep, dark lake.

‘Ben? What the hell?’

It’s Daphne’s voice. Oh my God, Daff …

Something ignites inside me, and I manage to wrench my eyelids open. My surroundings swim gradually into focus, and when I look up, she’s standing over me, hands on hips, her face full of confusion and concern.

‘Are you OK?’ she says. ‘What are you doing up here?’

A burst of pure happiness surges through me like electricity. I can’t believe she’s really here. A sound comes out of my mouth that is part gasp, part groan. Am I hallucinating? Am I still dreaming?

‘Daff?’ I croak dumbly.

‘Were you sleeping up here?’

I stare around me, blinking stupidly against the light, my body still tense and heavy but starting to fizz with the exhilaration of what I think I’m seeing.

I’m … I’m in the attic. I’m with Daphne in the attic in our flat. Next to me, a biscuit tin lies open to reveal various items: a ticket stub, a tattered programme for a play, and a fake plastic revolver.

Relief crashes over me in a tidal wave, and I stare up at Daff in joyous disbelief, my heart battering against my ribcage.

‘Ben … Hey – what are you doing?’

I have no control over what I’m doing, and before I know it, I’ve wobbled to my feet and pulled her towards me in a tight, breathless hug.

‘Oh Daff …’ I stammer. ‘Oh my God … I can’t believe it … I can’t believe you’re really here!’

‘What … What is going on, Ben? What’s happened?’