It takes me a long while to fall asleep that night, my mind returning over and over to the job advert, as I try to picture the house, whoever placed the advert and what this could mean for me. I think if I get an interview, I’ll print the advert and add it to my scrapbook to document the next stage of my journey. I tuck my hand between the mattress and bed frame, my fingers searching out the comforting feel of the book’s spine, and I imagine myself smoothing the advert into place, before dressing to impress at interview. Smiling, I roll over in an attempt to get comfortable. I can hear Mags’s music through the wall – something slow and turgid that really should help me fall asleep – and I finally doze off around two o’clock in the morning.

I’ve barely begun to dream when something jolts me from sleep, an unknown noise breaking into my conscience. Keeping my eyes closed, I count to ten under my breath before I open them, my heart thudding painfully in my chest as I try to get my bearings and I listen hard to figure out what it is that has woken me. Breathing. That’s what has dragged me from sleep. The sound of another person breathing in my room.

‘Fuck.’ Whispering the word, I push myself up on shaky arms, frantically casting my mind over what is on the bedside table that I could use as a weapon, stifling a shriek as I see the figure standing at the end of my bed, illuminated by the thin shaft of moonlight that streaks through the gap in the curtains. For one moment I think my heart has stopped dead in my chest before the figure takes a step towards me and I realize that it is my flatmate. It’s only Mags.

‘Shit, you scared me. Shhh, Mags, come on, back to bed.’ I push back the duvet cover and gently take Mags by the arm, shivering slightly as the night air meets the sweat on my body. Mags mumbles something, something about not letting go, and I shush her again before guiding her back to her room on legs that feel like jelly, making sure the door is firmly closed when I leave. I pad silently back to bed, taking deep breaths to get my heart rate back to normal. It’s been a while since Mags has sleepwalked, and she’s never actually walked into my room before. I let out a shaky laugh of relief at it being Mags, and not someone more sinister – feeling foolish now I know I’m not under any threat. I won’t miss this part of living with Mags when I leave. If I manage to leave.