WHILE SHE WAS WORKING this out, over at the Fetch Hotel reception desk, Kevin Mangold looked down at his hands while his heart cantered about in his chest and he felt horribly sick…then he felt calmer and calmer and began to push his forearms down into the soft, gluey something that had replaced the usual cheap-wood-made-to-look-quite-like-mahogany. He was keen to cease existing.

Only then, while Bryony was wondering how to proceed with her talkative monster, his terror revived and became almost too much to bear – before the desk top spat out his hands and healed over as if nothing weird had ever happened.

Mangold blinked. He shook his head.

He decided that he was overstrained and should withdraw for a cup of tea in the Staff Office. He put out the sign that said guests should ring for IMMEDIATE ASSISTANCE – he’d always thought that was an unwise promise to make – and wondered if there would be any biscuits hidden away in the office. It was probably, now he considered it, nice of Bryony to leave them for him. He needed a biscuit. And he thought he would phone his mum later. First he would fire Bryony and then he would call his mum.