‘No one accused me. My father’s Irish, but he’s also a Scion employee. He gave money to the school. The Schoolmistress put it down to “dryness in the classrooms”,’ I said darkly, ‘which was plausible, given all the hot air that came out of her mouth.’

Nick burst out laughing. My whole body warmed up, as if the sun was on it. It was harder not to fall in love with him when he laughed.

Not that I was falling in love with him.

The conversation became a torrent that neither of us staunched. He told me about the day he had found out he was voyant. At the age of twelve, he had received a vision of his best friend, Lasse Ekström, dying in the family car. Unable to warn Lasse without betraying his gift to Scion, Nick had been forced to stay silent. The Ekström family had been killed a week later, when their car had hit ice and ploughed into a tree.

‘I think about that every day,’ Nick said heavily. ‘I’ve never predicted anyone’s death since … I didn’t see Karolina’s. I sometimes wonder if I just … wasn’t listening.’

Before I knew what I was doing, I had laid a hand on his arm.

‘You still might not have been able to stop it.’

He raised a weary smile. ‘Probably not. Lina loved me, but she also loved ignoring my advice.’ With a sigh, he opened his wallet. ‘Well, I think it’s time to find ourselves a poltergeist. We’ll start by paying a visit to Anne Naylor. Ready?’

‘Ready.’

Chapter 3 Exit, Pursued by a Poltergeist

Exit, Pursued by a Poltergeist

We had talked for a long time, but still not long enough. There was so much I wanted to ask him, to tell him. Everything I said, I thought he understood. I wasn’t sure how it was possible for this almost-stranger to unlock parts of my past I had kept hidden for years, but Nick was the sort of person who you wanted to confide in – and I had missed being able to talk to someone. I hadn’t had that since I had been separated from my grandmother.

I had never spoken with anyone outside of my family about Finn. I had never told anyone else in this country about my life in Ireland.

Some people you meet in life, and they just click with you. It doesn’t matter how much you have in common; you just work, somehow. That was Nick to me.

Side by side, we walked into Farringdon station, which was quiet. There were people on the platform, but the flow of commuters had dwindled to a trickle. We sat on a bench, and Nick picked up an abandoned copy of the Daily Descendant – the only newspaper approved by Scion. Best not read, unless you wanted your brain decocted.