Elizabeth wasn’t on the landing. She wasn’t in her room. I came back in time to see Dominic eject the tape from the VCR and tuck it inside his sweatshirt; then he thundered down the stairs and left the house. We never spoke again.

Elizabeth was sitting at the kitchen table.

‘Time for bed,’ I told her.

‘No it’s not.’

‘Have you taken your tablet?’

‘I never go this early.’

‘You’re going when I say you are.’

I dragged her chair out while she was still sitting on it, and she leapt like a cat. For a second I knew I’d got away with something. Then she said, ‘Stop it, I’m waiting for Scarlet,’ and I was furious all over again.

‘Scarlet’s not real.’

‘She is!’

‘You made her up, I played along, and now it’s time for bed.’

I had the weirdest feeling then that Scarlet was in the room after all. She’d come into being the moment I’d denied her, standing behind me, in Elizabeth’s line of sight, pulling a horrible face at my back. If I turned quickly enough, I would see her.

‘If you want to play a game,’ I said, ‘let’s play something less babyish.’

‘Like what?’

‘I give you two choices, and you have to pick one.’

‘All right,’ Elizabeth said, too quickly. She thought I was giving her a choice of two games.

‘Your parents have been kidnapped. The ransom’s a million pounds each, but you’ve only got one million and you can’t get any more. Who are you going to save?’

She glared at me. ‘They haven’t been kidnapped.’

‘It’s a game. You’ve got to imagine.’

‘You can’t make me imagine that.’

Maybe she wasn’t so weird after all, because she found the dilemma intolerable. Her eyes filled with tears.

‘You can’t ask me that,’ she repeated, but the stubbornness was gone.

‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Stick to your imaginary friends. And go to sleep. I’ve got homework to do.’

‘Wait,’ she said, reaching for me. Her fingers were cold. ‘I really can’t get more money? What if I sold the house?’

‘You’ve sold the house. Time’s nearly up.’

‘What if I won’t choose?’

I rolled my eyes. ‘What do you think?’

I could’ve risen above myself, told her to forget it, made her a cup of hot chocolate after all, but even when the tears started running down her face I waited for an answer.

‘My Dad,’ she whispered. ‘I’d save my Dad.’

Her choice hung between us, savagely, innocently beautiful, like an icicle. I said, ‘If you tell anyone Dominic was here, I’ll tell your mother what you just told me.’