‘He obviously hasn’t teleported.’ O clamps her mouth tight shut around the word and her hand tight around the little backpack. Then she wheels back inside and disappears into her room.

‘Well, this is mysterious, Sidney.’ I finish closing up for the night, shut the cage and go into the flat to find O in her room, staring out across London from her bedroom window.

‘So what was the message? Who was it from? Was it from a lover?’

O snorts but doesn’t say anything.

‘Seriously, I’m dying to know. Are you going to send one back? This is so much fun, why are you being grumpy?’

She takes off her specs and rubs her eyes with an air of strained patience. Instead of answering any of my questions, she says, ‘I’ve asked Muz to bring the hog around from the lock-up in the morning.’

The ‘hog’ is O’s high-performance custom motorbike for wheelchair users. She drives it when she wants to visit her sister in Dorking. I usually ride as a passenger, which is . . . interesting.

‘Tomorrow isn’t your usual day. Is Daphne ill?’

‘I can go by myself, darling. You get on with your clients.’

The fortnightly trip to Dorking is actually part of our Roommate Agreement. O is fine with the driving and parking and all of that, but she needs the moral support. Pigeon Sisters jokes notwithstanding, Daphne doesn’t bring out the best in O, let’s just put it that way.

‘Of course I’m coming. Suggest you not drink, though, or you’ll have a headache in the morning. Maybe some nice ASMR instead?’

O glares at me and takes a defiant swig before nestling the flask right back against her now-braless bosom. I want to ask her what’s upset her so, but with O the more you pry, the less you get out of her. So I go to bed.

That’s when the fun really starts.

Not.

Secret Diary of a Prawn Star

Entry #50

Codename: Chaplin

Date: 17 September 2027

Client: Self

Payment in advance: N/A

Session Goal: None/involuntary

Location: My own damn bed

Narcolepsy status: Thought was OK but obvs not

Nutrition/stimulants: Tea, salad, two coffees and a Mars bar

Start time: 12.17 a.m.

End time: 12.42 a.m.

It’s a disembodied voice. You don’t get those dreams often. Dreams where the only thing you hear is a voice giving you instructions or messages, those are like the holy grail of dreamwork. They are said to be direct messages from the deepest layers of your unconscious, the actual shizzle.

The voice belongs to the Creeper. It’s right here inside my head, American accent and all. The voice goes, ‘Predators avoid each other. Consider it professional courtesy.’

I want to laugh because it’s so pretentious, but I’m already getting scared.

I tell it, ‘I’m not a predator.’