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tonight.’
    ‘But I can hear them outside my door! They’re coming for me next, I’m sure of it!’
    ‘Doris, I promise you. Everything’s going to be fine. All you have to do is get a good night’s sleep.’
    Mrs Bellman didn’t answer. Grace said, ‘Doris? Are you still there? I’m sure you have nothing to worry about.’
    ‘What if they try to break into my room?’
    ‘Who, Doris?’
    ‘The sack-draggers. What if they try to break into my room?’
    ‘Doris, I’m sure that they won’t. But if they do, you just give me another call, OK?’
    ‘I’m terribly frightened, Doctor Underhill.’
    ‘I know you are. But try to relax. Is there anything you want me to bring you? A cake, maybe, or some cookies? Some magazines for you to read?’
    Mrs Bellman hung up without saying anything more. Grace put down the phone and said, ‘Mrs Bellman, from the Murdstone.’
    ‘You gave her your home number?’
    ‘I wish I hadn’t now. I just felt sorry for her, I guess. She’s convinced that she’s going to be dragged away in a sack, and she wants me to come and rescue her.’
    She sat down. Her chicken stew was congealing now, and she didn’t feel hungry any more. Although Mrs Bellman was obviously suffering from the early stages of senile dementia, she still felt guilty that she wasn’t driving straight over to see her. But the Murdstone Rest Home was nearly ten miles away, in Millbourne, and she didn’t really know what she could do to help Mrs Bellman even if she went there.
    Denver returned home, very quietly, a few minutes after midnight. Nathan heard the front door close, and the alarm switched on. Tonight, it didn’t sound as if Denver had been drinking, because he managed to creep up the stairs and tippy-toe along the landing. Nathan heard him switch on his TV, at very low volume, and climb into bed.
    ‘Is that Denver?’ asked Grace, blurrily.
    ‘Hey – I thought you were asleep.’
    ‘I’m a mother. Mothers never sleep. Not completely, anyhow.’
    They lay there in silence for a while. Then Nathan said, ‘Maybe he’s right. Maybe I don’t pay him enough attention. I’ve been so obsessed with this goddamned project.’
    Grace said, ‘Stop beating yourself up about it. He’s growing up, that’s all. He needs somebody to rebel against, and that somebody just happens to be you.’
    ‘I know – but I should leave my work where it belongs, in the laboratory, and not bring it home with me. I’ll try to have a talk to him tomorrow. You know, man-to-man stuff.’
    ‘My God. You’ll be taking him fishing next.’
    ‘Not a hope. But I might take him to see the Seventy-sixers.’
    ‘That sounds great. So long as you don’t expect me to come along.’
    Grace fell back to sleep. Around two twenty-five a.m., Nathan heard Denver switch off his TV. He would definitely talk to him tomorrow, and he wouldn’t mention mythical creatures once. A new beginning, father and son, the way it used to be when Denver was little, and they used to play football together, and go cycling to the store.
    Nathan closed his eyes. Almost immediately, he opened them again. The bedroom was very dark – much darker than it had been before. He could hear breathing but it wasn’t Grace. It was thicker and much harsher, more like an animal. He lay there for a few seconds, listening to it, and then he sat up.
    In the corner of the room, barely visible in the gloom, he saw a large black shape. It appeared to have bristling horns on top of its head, or a crown made out of dry branches, and it reached almost to the ceiling. He thought he might have seen its eyes glittering, too, but he couldn’t be sure.
    The sack-dragger , he thought. Instead of going to help Mrs Bellman, Grace had stayed at home, and now the sack-dragger had dragged itself all the way here, looking for her, sniffing her out.
    He eased back the bedcover. He kept his own breathing shallow, to suppress his fear. He couldn’t imagine how the sack-dragger had