Sam stayed on his saddle while I peered round the gate. He looked completely jumpy and picked at his fingernails, as if he couldn’t quite believe I’d talked him into coming.

Then something bounced out of the long grass and my heart nearly left my chest. My brain took a moment to work it out. Was that really a cat? It had no hair.

Its pink skin was wrinkled in some places, smooth in others. Its ears were like bat’s ears – far too much of their knobbly insides were showing – and it bounded up to us like we were the most important things it had seen all day.

I did nothing but point at it for seconds, speechless. Then I said, ‘See? Proof! Weird stuff’s going off here for sure. Looks like a cross between a cat, a kangaroo and a bat.’

Sam blinked at it. He looked a bit sick. ‘You can get bald cats, but that’s pretty weird. It looks like pig skin. Drastic wrinkles.’

The cat walked off, looking over its shoulder at us and meowing.

‘It’s trying to tell us something,’ I said.

‘Have you lost it, or what? It might be a freak, but it’s still only a stupid cat.’

I snorted. ‘Whaaat? Erm – that is not just a cat. Look at it, will you!’

‘OK – a stupid bald cat. No need to flip out on me.’

‘No, it’s trying to show us something. It wants us to follow. It’s obvious.’

‘Only if you’re cat-crazed.’

‘Perhaps it’s got kittens. Stuck somewhere.’ I untied my coat, stuffed it into the hedge and took a step inside the gates.

‘What are you doing? Come back, you utter—’

‘Just wanna see what she’s trying to tell us,’ I said. ‘The man’s out – he won’t even know.’

‘You can’t! You’re not allowed in people’s gardens, not round here. Especially not his house!’

‘Well you don’t have to. Stay there. Keep watch. I’m not a vandalist.’

‘You melter! No!’

But I was already inside.

5

Weird Goes with Weird

In the gateway, Sam watched me, eyes wide, hands gripping his handlebars, one foot up on a pedal, ready to go.

The cat sat next to a wrecked piece of wire near the trees at the side of the house, twitching its tail. Waiting for me.

The rest of the garden stretched out behind the house, endless, as big as a field, long grass rippling like a sea. My heart danced – there was room for anything in there. Bits of metal poked up everywhere like a ruined city.

Up in the branches, wire blended into the leaves and twigs, almost perfectly. Mr Clemm must have strung it there, masses of it. Not sure, but it looked like telephone wire. Are people even allowed to mess with telephone wire?