I bluffed. I lied, in other words. I made up some story about Susan’s guinea pig escaping, and having to chase it all round her garden, and I knew he’d never be able to check it out.

I hung my head. ‘Sorry, Uncle Pete. I didn’t mean to worry you,’ I said in a really small voice.

(Ooh, I hate having to do that. It’s so effective on people without kids, yet strangely ineffective on parents and teachers.)

Mormor tutted and muttered something in Swedish, then, ‘Malky, älskling. Your mama and papa have got enough to worry about. Go and get showered and then into bed. We’ll say no more about this. Give me a hug first.’

Oh no. Not a hug. Not when I’m hiding something under my jacket.

‘Kom hit,’ she said in Swedish, opening her arms. ‘Come here!’

I hesitated.

‘What’s wrong with you?’

There was no getting out of it. I leaned into her from a standing position and tried to angle my body away from her, but she kept pulling harder.

She’s bound to discover it.

‘Hey, what is this?’ she said, and I thought I was found out. But she was touching the tear in my sleeve. ‘Take your jacket off, Malky, älskling. I shall mend this for you before your mama finds out, how about that? Well, for what are you waiting? Get it off!’

At that second, Uncle Pete’s phone rang in his pocket and Mormor was distracted for a moment. We both stopped our hug and waited to see what the news was. I could tell from his tone that he was talking to Mam. He hardly said anything, just things like, ‘Mm-hm,’ and, ‘I see.’ Then there was a long pause, and he said, ‘Oh no.’ Mormor’s hand went up to her mouth in alarm.

‘That was your mam,’ said Uncle Pete, putting his phone away and sitting down heavily. ‘It’s not good news. Seb’s condition is getting worse. Tonight is going to be very critical. I’m really sorry, Malky.’ His mouth was turned down in a tight, thin line, and his face was becoming pink with the effort of not breaking down in front of me.

Mormor looked up at me, her eyes moist. ‘Do you pray, Malky?’

I shrugged. I don’t really, except when we have to at school.

‘You might want to tonight,’ she said, and turned away, quickly. I used the opportunity to dash upstairs. Obviously, they both thought I was going to my room to cry (or pray, perhaps), but I was just eager to get the Dreaminator out from under my jacket.

And so here I am and it’s nearly midnight.

The Dreaminator’s ring of lights seems to glow with a greater intensity than the ones Seb and I had and seems more green than blue. Does that mean it’s more effective?