When she was wet enough, she walked up and knocked on the door. Knocking on the door was nice. She could have smashed through it. She could have made it disappear. She could have turned it into a million bubbles. But she knocked, and she waited, and it was nice.

Movement. Sounds. A latch being lifted. The door opened and a man in his early thirties stood there, a pleasant expression on his face. Argeddion.

“Hi,” said Darquesse. “I’m so very sorry for disturbing you, but my car broke down and I don’t have my phone with me. Could I possibly use your phone to call home?”

“Of course,” Argeddion said, stepping to one side. “Come on in. The phone’s on the table there.”

Darquesse gave him a grateful smile and hurried over to the phone. She started dialling a non-existent number as he left her alone in the hall.

“Hi, Mum,” she said. “Car’s broken down. Yes, I know you did, and you were right. Could you come and pick me up? I’m at a house opposite the park entrance – you know the one with the big iron gate? No, it’s fine. His name is …” She took a step sideways, peering into the kitchen. “Excuse me, could I have your name?”

Argeddion came back, smiled as he handed her a towel. “I’m Michael Tolan.”

She took the towel, started drying her hair one-handed. “His name’s Michael Tolan. No, Mum. He’s normal. He’s not scary.”

Argeddion chuckled. “I’m a teacher, not a serial killer.”

“Hear that, Mum? A teacher. Yep. I’m fine. OK. OK, thank you. Love you. Bye. Bye bye bye bye bye.” She put the phone down. “Thank you so much. She’ll be here in ten minutes.”

“You can wait in here if you want.”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t. I’ll wait in my car.”

“It’s lashing out,” he said, “and I’ve put the kettle on.”

“Well,” said Darquesse, “a cup of tea does sound nice.”

He smiled, and she followed him into the kitchen. “Excuse the mess,” he said while he poured the boiling water into a mug. “I’ve just moved into the area, and I’m not used to visitors.”

She sat at the table. “How long have you been a teacher?”

He laughed. “Too long, but I just started at St James’s last September.”

“And how do you find it?”

“It’s a great school. Did you go there?”

“Naw, but a lot of my friends did.” He handed her a mug of tea. “Thank you, Mr Tolan.”

“Outside the classroom, people call me Michael.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Michael. You don’t look like a teacher.”

“No?” he said, leaning against the cooker. “What do I look like?”

“I don’t know. A doctor. Or a scientist.”

“I must look intelligent.”

“Or a magician, maybe.”

“Wow. Well, that’s new. I look like a magician?”