I’m feeling pretty alert now, and I figure the best way to clean up is to use the showerhead that’s connected to the bath taps. Then I’ll take a towel and wrap my foot tightly.

I see that I’m leaving a trail of crimson drips wherever I move. The shower curtain is pulled closed, concealing the bath. I pull it aside swiftly, and that’s when I actually

SCREAM!

Out loud, and long.

Lying in the bath, arms crossed over his chest, wearing a bright blue-and-green kilt, is the body of Kenneth McKinley, who opens his eyes and rises slowly up from the waist, turning his head until he faces me.

‘Och, forgive me, laddie. Is this a private dream, or can anyone join in?’

My mouth is flapping but no words are coming out.

‘False awakening,’ says Kenneth. ‘Again. You’re having a dream-in-a-dream. Again. I’m surprised you fell for it a second time. Did you not spot the signs?’

‘No … no. I … I … My clock! The time, the numbers … they were fine.’

‘Oh dear, laddie. That’s definitely not good.’ He shakes his head. ‘Yer mind is losing touch with reality. Ooh, it’s a wee bit cramped in here. Like being in a blasted coffin.’ He stands up and stretches his back, his ornamental dirk clanking against the taps.

‘Aren’t you …’ I stumble because it’s difficult to find the right words. It’s not a question I have ever had to ask anyone before. ‘Aren’t you dead?’

He looks at me, a strange half-smile on his face. ‘Och, yes, Malcolm. I’m afraid to say I am. Dead as a dodo.’

‘So … you’re a ghost?’

He steps out of the bath and stands next to me. ‘Go on … touch my hand. See? If I was a ghost, your hand would go straight through mine, wouldn’t it? No, you’re having a dream, laddie.’

‘But … you don’t look dead.’

‘Don’t I? I’m glad to hear it, lad, glad to hear it.’ He leans past me to check his reflection in the bathroom mirror and smooths down his hair. Then he grins at me, looking over the top of his purple glasses.

‘Are you all right? That is …’

‘All right? I’m dead, Malcolm! I’m about as far from all right as it’s possible to be.’

‘I … I don’t understand.’

‘Of course you don’t. It’s a dream! Where logic, rationality, sense and good order take second place to strangeness and improbability. But here’s the thing, Malcolm – we’re in Dreamland. And in Dreamland I’m as alive as can be. Just because you’re dreaming it doesn’t mean it isn’t real, Malky lad.’

‘Mola said almost the same thing!’ I say.