‘Letting yourself into places,’ continues Andi. ‘Snooping around.’ She stops and leans against the doorpost, blocking my exit. At last she says, ‘You may already have guessed, but … I know it was you that night. I have no proof, of course, but I know.’

‘I … I … I was looking for the kitchen. Erm … butter cake. I left it.’

And folds her arms and looks at me for the longest time. ‘I see,’ she says, not taking her eyes from my face. ‘This is Kenneth’s bedroom. You’d better wait by the front door. I’ll bring the cake to you.’

I’m about to squeeze past her and head for the front door, but she closes the bedroom door behind her with her foot.

‘Actually, before you go, tell me one thing, Malcolm,’ she says. ‘What were you doing that night?’

It seems pointless to lie – you know, brazen it out. She’s even being gentle. So I try to look apologetic and say, ‘It was a dare. Pretend to be a robber sort of thing.’

She bites her cheek, seeming to literally chew over my answer. Then she nods. ‘You could get into a lot of trouble doing that, you realise. People don’t like it. You know I reported it to your school?’

‘I know. I’m sorry.’ This, of course, is the point at which I should apologise for taking the Dreaminators, but slowly something begins to dawn on me: she seems satisfied. I mean, if she knew I’d taken them, she’d say something like, ‘And is there anything else you want to own up to?’ but she doesn’t.

She doesn’t even know they’re gone.

Instead, she goes hmmp and says, ‘He likes you. I can tell. That is, as much as he likes anyone. I think you remind him of his son.’

I’m a bit embarrassed so I just say, ‘Oh? The one who’s just phoned?’ and she gives a little sigh.

‘He’s a complicated man is Kenneth. He thinks deeply. Too deeply, if you ask me.’ Her eyes flick to the Dreaminator above the bed and then back to me. ‘And he’s known a lot of sadness. It can all make him very confused. But, if you wanted to come back, I think you’d make a lonely old man a bit happier in his final days.’

‘His … his final …?’

She shrugs. ‘Who knows? Now go and wait by the front door.’

Andi returns a moment later and hands me a plastic box of cake with a slow nod and a warm smile. Before the door closes, she says, ‘Will we see you again?’

She doesn’t really say it like a question, and there’s only one answer required.

‘Yes.’