As I climb out of bed, Skywalker whines and gives a few short barks, meaning nature is calling. I dress, pinning my smiley face badge to my denim jacket and making sure it’s the right way up.

‘This is the most important fashion statement I’ve ever made,’ I tell Skywalker, patting the badge.

Skywalker looks at me like, ‘What are you talking about, Willis?’

I smile. ‘I know you don’t get fashion. I’ll take you out, okay?’

But when I try the door handle, it feels … stuck.

‘It can’t be,’ I tell Skywalker. ‘That’s stupid. I’m being paranoid.’

I try it again. But it really is stuck.

‘Hey,’ I shout, pulling. ‘HEY!’ I twist the rattling metal handle back and forth.

Skywalker barks beside me, jumping about between my legs. He thinks this is a game, but the door won’t budge.

‘Skywalker, sit,’ I say. ‘Stay there.’

I’m preparing for a shoulder run when I hear a scrabbling sound at the door. Like witch fingernails dragging over wood.

I pause.

‘Um … hello?’

No one answers.

I watch a lot of Asian horror movies and right now I feel like I’m in one. The Johnny Rotten decal watches me from over the fake fireplace and the shadowy green trees whisper ‘all alone’ through the arched window.

I glance at the window, wondering if I can climb out. I’m a good climber.

The scrabbling gets louder, and I pick up a chair, wielding it like a weapon.

‘Skywalker, heel.’

Doggie comes to my leg, one clawed paw standing shakily on my DM boot. He’s trying his best to be a tough guy.

Scratch, scratch, scratch.

It’s just the weirdest noise.

Okay. Okay, ready to charge the door …

But suddenly the door flies open, light pouring in, dust clouds swirling up from the wooden floor.

‘Oh my goodness.’ Diane holds a palm to her chest and sounds out of breath. ‘You’re not going to whack me with that chair, are you?’

Diane wears navy blue cotton pyjamas with stars on them and her brown hair twists and flicks messily around her chin. Without make-up she looks old and tired, with large grey bags under her eyes.

I lower the chair. ‘There were weird noises outside. Like … scratching. I watch a lot of horror movies. I thought you were … I don’t know, a Japanese girl with stringy hair over her face, crawling up the stairs to get me.’

Diane laughs. ‘This door.’ She rattles the handle. ‘It gets stuck sometimes from the inside. I just woke up in a cold sweat, thinking Jesus – what if the door sticks, and Liberty thinks we’ve locked her in. She’ll start believing Lorna and all her big bad wolf stories. You’re up early.’

‘I like early mornings.’

Skywalker sniffs at Diane’s pyjamas and she strokes his head. ‘Was he okay sleeping up here?’