I suppose I did enjoy it when Rose’s name appeared on the side. Who doesn’t enjoy seeing their brother or sister scared? It’s brilliant! But when it was my name it was a different matter . . .

“Remember how the words showed up?” I say.

“Like magic,” says Rose.

When it first turned up in Roar, the Box looked just like the one in Grandad’s attic, right down to the fat goldfish on the side, but when we stepped closer the words What’s in the box appeared in shining, golden letters. Then there was this stomach-churning pause before Arthur or Rose was added along with a jaunty question mark.

I was always so relieved when I saw the R for Rose, but it if was an A for Arthur my chest would squeeze tight and my heart would beat like a drum as I tried to work out what could possibly be about to jump out. The worst thing about the Box was that it was clever: it knew when Rose and I were nearby, and it knew exactly what we were scared of.

Rose looks at me and grins. “Hey, Arthur, remember Candyfloss?”

How could I forget Candyfloss? He was the first thing to come out of the Box, but he was nothing like Rose’s clown in Grandad’s attic. For one thing he was real, an actual clown with masses of curly yellow hair, face paint, and a red nose. Plus, he had this creepy swooping voice and whenever he saw me he’d say, “Hellooooo, Arthur!”

Rose bursts out laughing. “Remember his nose? It was so big!”

“Not as big as his feet,” says Win.

“He used to step on me with those big feet.” My words make them laugh even more.

“Hellooooo, Arthur!” says Rose, doing an, admittedly, very good impersonation of Candyfloss.

“What about Bendy Joan?” I say. “You didn’t find her so funny, did you?”

Rose stops laughing. “That’s because she could fit in the tiniest places. I never knew when she was going to jump out at me. Have you ever had an old lady jump out of a tree and land on your back, Arthur? It’s much scarier than a clown!”

“Remember the giant cat?” says Win. “His purr was intense.”

“Urgh,” says Rose with a shudder. “Smokey!”

And for the next few minutes, as we walk along the swaying bridge, we reminisce about all the strange and weird things that came out of the Box: the hundreds of stripy bee-spiders, Rose’s tiny ghost-vampire, the gloved hand that used to skitter around after me.

“How did we get rid of them all?” I say.

“I don’t think we did,” says Rose. “Didn’t they just wander off into Roar when they got bored of scaring us?”