She hissed again, first in one ear and then the other, her image leaping from one side to the other in the blink of an eye. ‘Don’t keep the brat for too long, Henry, that’s all I’m saying. Kill her if you receive even the slightest hint of police attention. Kill her and dispose of the body somewhere it can’t be found.’

Heath nodded. ‘Like the woods? A grave in the woods? Somewhere we could spend time together after her death. I’ve taken rather a liking to her in some strange way. Maybe it’s because she’s unconscious. It’s not unlike death. I wouldn’t want to lose her forever.’

His mother sounded impatient now, as if she’d tired of their interaction. ‘Yes, Henry, somewhere like the woods. Or the river. You could cut her up, weigh her down. Just like that boy in India who took such a liking to you before you showed your true colours. Do you remember? Surely you remember? The nine-year-old lad with the limp that you strangled when he threatened to say too much. Dismember the body, bag it, and add some suitably heavy stones. It’s a simple and effective method of disposal. I wouldn’t rule it out if I were you.’

‘I’d rather keep her if at all possible. I like the company of corpses, their unquestioning compliance. I like the way they look, the way they feel, the way they taste, and even the way they smell. Living people bore me. Unless they’re suffering, of course. Unless they provide some fun. The dead are far more loyal. They don’t let you down.’

‘Living people reject you, Henry, that’s the truth of it. People don’t like you. They never have. The dead suit you well.’

His eyes flashed. ‘Like the brat’s snooty mother. She treated me with utter disdain.’

She sighed. ‘Yes, Henry, as you say, just like her… don’t rule the river out completely without very good reason. You don’t always consider all the complexities of any situation with sufficient rigour. I’m not saying you’re incapable of rational thought, not completely, you’re not totally inept. It’s just that Mother knows best.’

Heath began nodding, time and again, as if he was incapable of stopping. ‘I hear you, I hear you, you’ve said enough. Now, leave me alone. There are things I need to do. The feeding tube needs adjusting. I need to replace the intravenous fluid. I need to attach it to the drip stand. Keeping the brat alive involves effort. You don’t give me nearly enough credit for that. I’ve got a lot to do and very little time to do it. Keeping a pet is an onerous responsibility.’

Her frown became a glower as she drifted away, and then came back into focus. ‘Get on with it, boy. You’re all talk and no action, that’s your problem. I’m only glad your poor father can’t see you now, sitting there, pontificating, wasting my valuable time when I’ve got better things to do up here in the spirit world. If you’re going to be a sadist, at least be a good one, that’s my advice. You’re such a disappointment! Torment? Torment? You don’t even know the meaning of the word. Inflicting pain and humiliation on others for sexual pleasure is an art. You need to up your game, my boy. No half measures. Be the best killer you can possibly be.’