‘Yes, of course.’ She lay the unlit joint on the edge of an ashtray. ‘What did you come up here for, by the way?’

‘Pardon?’

She smiled. ‘You haven’t told me the purpose of your visit.’

‘Oh. I just wanted to check if Lennon had come back.’ He felt foolish now for suspecting that Lucy had harmed the cat, so he decided not to mention it.

‘How sweet of you.’

As she saw him out, she said, ‘Did Kirsty drink that ginger I gave her?’

‘She just drank it ten minutes ago.’

‘Good. She’ll feel much better in the morning.’ She spoke with certainty. ‘But if she needs any more, you know where I am.’

Downstairs, Kirsty was sitting on the sofa, staring into the middle distance, not moving or reacting when Jamie came in.

‘Are you alright?’

‘Sorry? Oh, listen, I was just reading that book Brian gave you. The Creature In The Cradle.’ She picked up the book and Jamie took it from her.

‘What’s it like? Isn’t it a bit childish?’

‘Huh. I’ll tell you what – if I’d read that when I was a kid, I would have had to sleep in my mum and dad’s bed for a month. It’s really creepy. But listen to this bit.’ She took the book back and flicked through it. ‘Here. Listen.’ She read aloud: ‘The next morning, Barbara went downstairs to get the milk in. She was tired and crabby where Suzy had cried all night – that’s the baby, the one that’s being terrified by these creatures that run amok in her bedroom every night. Barbara opened the front door and let out a shrill scream. There, lying beside the milk bottles, was a dead rat, one eye open and seemingly staring at her. It was the biggest rat she had ever seen. It was as big as a puppy.’

Jamie and Kirsty stared at each other.

‘That’s bizarre,’ he breathed.

‘Spooky, isn’t it?

‘A spooky coincidence.’

‘Of course.’

‘Do kids really enjoy this stuff?’ Kirsty said. ‘I suppose they must do, or they wouldn’t publish it. Hey, are you OK? You’ve got goosepimples all up your arms.’

He nodded. ‘I’m fine. Maybe I’m catching your cold.’

‘I hope not. For your sake.’

He picked the book up and reread the passage Kirsty had just read aloud. ‘A coincidence,’ he said, ‘but damn spooky.’

The alarm clock beeped and Jamie stuck out an arm and quelled it. It was his least favourite sound in the universe. He imagined his ancestors must have developed a severe loathing for cockerels. The first thing he would do if he won the Lottery would be to throw away his alarm clock. If he was rich he would never get up early again. That was his idea of heaven – waking up and knowing that if you wanted to you could stay in bed all day. Bliss.