The front door stood wide open, but there was no one in sight.

They stood there, afraid to step too far outside in case he lay in wait for them. They peered up and down the empty road, turned and hurried back inside.

Looking increasingly alarmed, Callum listened to his mother’s account of what had happened. ‘Mum, what if he didn’t go out the door?’

Fresh waves of fear coursed through her and she swallowed. She told herself to be strong for Callum, a skinny lad of twelve. ‘Don’t worry, son, he went out. I know he did.’

Callum looked unconvinced. So was she, but she kept it from her boy. ‘If it makes you feel better, we’ll check the whole house, okay?’ She cast around for something to use as protection and settled for a metal doorstop.

Room by room, her son at her heels, she pushed doors wide and flipped on light switches. With every light came the thrill of fear. What if Callum had been right? As the last door swung open, she heaved a sigh of relief. ‘It’s all clear, son. He’s gone.’

‘How did he get in, Mum?’ the boy asked. ‘I heard you lock up last night, so it wasn’t through the doors.’

Good bloody question. ‘I’m not sure, Callum.’

‘I’m scared.’

She held out her arms. At twelve, Callum was still a child, but more artistic and creative than his older brother, Andrew. Andrew had been a little Action Man at the age of five, whereas Callum was sensitive and thoughtful, more likely to be found with his head in a book than slaughtering insurgents on his PlayStation. She cuddled him for a moment or two, then led him down to the kitchen, where she made them both a comforting hot chocolate.

He seemed relieved, but she knew that Callum wouldn’t relax until he understood how their intruder had got in. Nor would she, for that matter.

Callum had his hands around his favourite Hogwarts mug and looked down into the swirling, frothy drink. ‘What did he want?’ he asked without looking up.

Another good question, and it scared the shit out of her. What did he want? Why just stand there and stare at her? How long had he been watching her? In her bedroom! She dreaded to think. ‘I suppose he was just a burglar, and I woke up before he could steal anything.’ It sounded pretty lame, even to her, but it was all she had to offer. She could hardly express her worst fears to her fragile boy. She frowned. What was it? Something she’d half noticed when she checked the rooms just now. ‘I’m just going to the lounge for a moment, son, won’t be a moment.’

Annie pushed open the door. The light was still on. Most of the lights were still on. She told herself it was for Callum’s sake.

Her eyes roamed around the room, trying to recall what had bothered her. Something small, something that she’d pushed into the background in fear during her hasty inspection.