Then, with a start, he saw him.

A man standing right across the road, beneath a street light, with a fat cigar glowing in his mouth, giving him a knowing smile. He was in his thirties and looked like he was dressed for a 1970s-themed fancy-dress party – he wore a busy high-collared shirt opened halfway to his navel, flared jeans, Chelsea boots and a leather jacket. A gold medallion glinted on his chest.

‘Hi, good evening!’ Maurice hailed him. ‘Good to see a fellow smoker!’

The man drew on his cigar, the red glow brightening, removed it from his mouth, and blew smoke out.

Holding his own unlit cigarette, Maurice crossed the road towards him. ‘How do you do? I’m Maurice Penze-Weedell – we’ve recently moved into number thirty-six, the house down at the other end.’

As Maurice reached him, holding out an extended hand in greeting, the man vanished.

8

Friday 14 December

‘Probably a fox or a cat,’ Jason said, glancing out at the darkness after the alert ended and the security lights had gone out. ‘I bet those people in number thirty-six have a cat. They look like cat people. They’ve probably got a great fat thing called Tiddles or some stupid name.’

Emily said, mischievously, ‘Or it could have been the neighbourhood weirdo?’

They lay on the wide, soft sofa, their arms around each other, their bodies pressed tightly together for warmth against the cold draught that blew on them. ‘Well, if it was, we sure gave him a good show!’ Jason said. ‘I think Cold Hill village would have felt a small earth tremor.’

‘A small one? I’d say ten on the Richter scale.’

He frowned at her. ‘Only ten?’

She kissed him. ‘Probably higher!’ She kissed him again. ‘I love you so much. I love our new home.’

The sharp female voice rang out again, loudly, right behind them.

‘What’s to love about it?’

Emily broke free of his arms and sat up with a start. ‘What was that?’

Jason, naked, stood and ran to the kitchen. To his amazement, the television was on again, at a loud volume. The same couple arguing.

‘What’s to love about it? I’ll tell you what’s to bloody love about it!’

Jason strode over to the command box and pressed the green button. Instantly it turned red.

He grabbed the remote from the glass-fronted cupboard below the television, which housed the Sky box and DVD player, and switched the television off. Then he went back to Emily.

‘I think that bloody command thing has a mind of its own. It must have some setting I haven’t figured out and put the television back on. I’ve switched the bloody thing off.’

‘It didn’t sound like the television,’ she said, shakily. ‘It sounded like she was right behind us.’

‘It did, I know. Maybe it got relayed through that speaker up there.’ He pointed at the wall. He lay down beside her again, slipping his arms around her, and kissed her. ‘Amazing, we’re finally here, in time for Christmas.’