‘This is no place for youngsters like you. Knowing Clemm, he’ll have parts of it electrified.’ Mr Lombard spread the word ‘electrified’ on to the air, making it last far too long. The sun went in and it started raining again, in tiny, hurting needles. He glanced at me again, then said to Sam, ‘You ought to be a bit choosier about the company you keep, Sam Irwin.’

I heated up all over, starting in my outraged cheeks. Sam looked like he might never move from that spot on the path again. I opened my mouth to protest at the injustice, but then something stopped me from thinking straight – a car was slowing down outside the drive, and I had a horrible feeling about it.

‘Well, here’s the man himself,’ Mr Lombard said, and he scratched his raspy cheek. ‘Let’s see what he makes of your tale.’

It was him. The Bentley’s tyres crunched over gravel. Windscreen wipers revealed the huge shape of Mr Clemm, whose furious eyes zipped between Mr Lombard, Sam and me, as if he couldn’t decide which of us was worst.

Without really thinking about it, I started walking. There was no way out of the garden except past that horrific car, but also no way I was staying to have a nice little chat with Lombard AND the Cloaked Strider. I grabbed Sam by the arm and pulled him after me as I went for the Bentley head on.

I’d forgotten how gigantic Mr Clemm really is. I could hear my own heart beating. He filled the car, right to the roof. We speeded up, but we couldn’t run – that would have looked like guilt on four legs. The rain fell in straight rods now.

‘Oy!’ Mr Lombard shouted. ‘You two goons! Stay and face the music!’

My eyes met Mr Clemm’s as we passed. That hawk face. So much nose. So much eagle-owl-eyebrow, puzzled, meeting in the middle, and his eyes, dark as night. I forgot to take a breath. This felt like falling in a nightmare. It felt like walking into a thick black spider’s web, all in slow motion. Inside I cringed, expecting him to spring out of the car and yank hold of us both, one in each hand.

We dived out of the front gate and grabbed our bikes from the hedge. Impossible not to look back. Had to see if he’d follow.

Mr Clemm got out of the car like a bat unfolding itself.

We didn’t stop pedalling till we reached the shop, and I’ve never been so soaked in my life. I did say sorry to Sam, for the way everything turned out. I did it just as we split to go our separate ways – Sam went up the hill to Lilac Farm and I went home to Usher’s Place – but he didn’t even look at me.