I looked down at his hand and saw something I had not noticed before. A slightly red patch around his wrist, like a rash. His other arm had it as well. Red, and a bit sore-looking.

The marks were in exactly the place where the huge man had tied the rough woven rope.

I let go of Seb’s hand and staggered back, knocking over the chair, which clattered to the floor and caused Dr Nisha to open the door.

‘Is everyth— Malcolm, what’s the matter?’

I pointed. ‘His … his wrists. Look!’

She took Seb’s left wrist in her hand and examined it. Then she switched on a bedside light. ‘Nurse! Bring me a magnifying light, please.’

She shook her head. ‘This could be something or nothing. Whatever it is, it does not appear to be severe, but we’ll certainly keep a close eye on it. Malcolm, you look like you want to say something.’

‘It … it’s where Seb was tied up. By the wrists. With rope.’

‘And when did this happen?’

‘In … in our …’

‘Don’t you dare say “in our dream”, Malky,’ said Dad behind her, and so I never finished my sentence.

Back home, I watch Dad snatch the Dreaminators from their hooks above our beds.

‘I’m taking these back to the hospital, although I’ve no idea why,’ he said, quietly. ‘You’re lucky I’m going back, anyway.’

He heads down, then he stops on the stairs for a moment, thinking. He turns and comes back up. He gives me a brave, mirthless smile and his voice is almost a whisper.

‘Malky, son. I know as well as anyone the dangers of messing with your mind, do you understand?’

I nod. He forces me to wait before he nods back, slowly.

‘I paid a hell of a price. It cost me your mam, your brother, you. I’m still paying it.’ He paused again and I thought there was more to come, but he was done. ‘I’m back in a couple of hours, Malky. Don’t go anywhere. Keep your phone on.’

I stay sitting on my bed, still unmade from this morning. Seb’s pillow is indented where his head was. Then I pick up the Dreaminator box.

Kenneth McKinley? I cast my mind back to the first time I met him. It was only three days ago, but feels like much, much longer – perhaps because so much happened in a single day.

Three Days Ago

Chapter 29

It’s Saturday morning on the Tynemouth seafront. Above King Edward’s Bay, seagulls are straining at the wind and screeching at the rough grey-and-white waves. Sometimes there are surfers, but there are none today.

I slept badly. Today is the day when I have to visit the man whose face is on the front of the Dreaminator box, and whose shed I burgled.