I looked up, startled, my head suddenly fogged with confusion. Rosie was walking into our bedroom, a torch in her hand. In its light, I could see that the sleeping bag beside me was empty.

“What … weren’t you just here?” I was about to add holding my hand, but couldn’t quite bring myself to say the words.

“I went to get a glass of water,” Rosie replied. She came over and climbed into her sleeping bag.

Dreaming. I must have been asleep and dreaming. That was the only explanation.

Rosie lay back down, and I longed to do the same, but my heart was still racing, and I needed to pee anyway. I reluctantly left the warmth of my sleeping bag, trying very hard not to think about that clammy hand squeezing mine tight in the darkness. It had felt so real…

I couldn’t remember where the light switches were out on the landing so I groped and fumbled my way down the dark corridor. When I got to the bathroom, I found the electric light and flicked the switch. It came on with a buzzing sound, filling the 88room with a sickly glow. The room wasn’t empty as I’d expected, and I let out a cry of surprise at the sight of Charlie sitting in the bath, his knees pulled up in front of him, staring straight ahead.

“What are you doing?” I yelped. “It’s the middle of the night! You’re supposed to be in bed.”

The next second I recalled what Dad had said about Charlie sleepwalking, but it didn’t seem like that was what was happening here. His gaze was perfectly focused as he looked at me.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Then in a very quiet voice, he added, “There’s someone in my room.”

“What? No, there isn’t.”

I was about to send him back to bed when it occurred to me that I probably should check that there wasn’t anyone in his room. We weren’t alone on the island after all – there had been a guga hunter hanging around outside just that evening, a fact that I’d failed to mention to anybody. It would be pretty shitty of me if I sent Charlie back to bed only for him to be snatched away.

“All right, show me,” I said with a sigh.

He scrambled out of the bath, tucked his hand into mine and led me back to the landing. This time I was 89able to find the light switch and flick it on before we went into Charlie’s bedroom. His train night light was on, softly illuminating the room, which was completely empty.

“You see?” I said. “No one here.”

“He must have gone back upstairs,” Charlie replied.

“Now I know you’re making it up,” I said. “We can’t get upstairs – the trapdoor’s chained up.”

“Not at night,” Charlie insisted. “He opens it.”