She made sure to put the Krook lock on the steering wheel and locked the car doors before she left it. She knew that the professional car thieves of today could get around practically any security device, but it scared off the amateurs and encouraged any thief to seek out something easier. She looked over at the abandoned factory as she turned the corner. Beyond the high wire fence with scrolls of barbed wire along its top lay broken pallets and a forklift truck on its side. Weeds were growing through the cracks in the concrete. The factory buildings themselves were dark and forbidding, lit only by pale moonlight, the smashed windows leaving shapes in the remaining glass like mountain peaks or silhouettes resembling rabbit ears, running horses and birds in flight.

Farther up the street, where there was even less light, she came to the broken playground. Immediately, she saw exactly what Jade meant. The place lay in shadow, in a small gap between two terraces, but she could see that it had once been a playground for young children. The frames for the swings were still there, as was the base for the seesaw, but there were no swings and there was no seesaw. The roundabout had tumbled off its hub and lay at an angle like a crashed carousel, and the monkey puzzle was all twisted out of shape.

The house next door was condemned, the front door and all the windows boarded up. Gerry did as Jade had said and slid the board aside. It was a good thing she managed to stay slim, she thought, slipping through. For a split second she felt a surge of fear rush through her and wondered again if Jade was leading her into a trap. But the fear passed as quickly as it had started, leaving her tingling and wary, but determined. Jade had told her who Mimsy was; Jade was scared and needed help.

Gerry entered the house and called Jade’s name quietly. “I’m up here,” came the familiar voice from the top of the stairs.

The house was pitch-dark inside, and Gerry used her mobile phone to light her way. She remembered once as a child playing in some empty houses on the edge of the field across from where she lived, but that was usually in daylight. You had to be careful, she remembered, because the stairs were often rotten, the plaster crumbling and laths weakened. In the dark it was so much more difficult to avoid making a misstep.

“Turn the light out,” Jade called down.

Gerry put her mobile in her bag, but not before she had turned on the record function. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to remember everything Jade told her, and there was no way she could make notes in the dark. “Jade?” she whispered. “Jade? Where are you?”

“I’m up here. The stairs are safe. They creak a lot, but they’re safe.”