‘Because it’s something from when she was different, before all this started. We had some lovely times together when she walked me to school. She made up all these games. There was a big steep hill we had to go up and I used to get tired and start complaining, you know how little kids do. But she’d pretend we were astronauts exploring another planet and if we reached the top of the hill we’d get to meet all these silvery people, they’d have silver eyes and hair…And she’d give all my clothes and her clothes names, that’s another thing she’d do. Apfel Strudel, Little Miss Muffet—that was blue and white checked gingham…I remember looking up at her and feeling so proud, she always looked so pretty people kept turning around to notice her.’

‘They still do.’

‘Not for the same reasons.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Angie…she doesn’t live there any more, it’s like someone came and stole her away…’

‘She still is nice! You talk about her all the time as though she’s…dead.’

‘Well, sometimes that’s exactly how it feels. There’s a lot of things you don’t know about her, the things she does to get money. And her horrible friends…One of them broke into our house and stole a whole lot of stuff, and she knew all about it. Probably told him when we’d be out and the best time to do it.’

‘Come on, Angie wouldn’t…’

‘Oh, Seymour, for heaven’s sake, you don’t know anything about it! She can and does when she gets desperate enough! Anyhow, that man’s in gaol now for something else he did, and it’s a pity they don’t lock him up for good. Jas got her on drugs in the first place! Listen, you just forget about Angie, she’s not worth bothering about. I’m going in to return the keys now, and you’d better go back home. There’s nothing left to do here, it’s all finished.’

She shooed him to the door and he caught one last glimpse of the empty room, but there didn’t seem to be much presence of Angie left in it. It was just a vacant, rather bleak structure in someone’s back yard, waiting for the next tenant.