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truck, not in this heat. The idea of hosing out maggots made my flesh crawl.
    I dumped the bin out front and headed back down the drive, cursing my mother to an uncaring universe. Why couldn’t she have waited until I got up? Why did she always have to be off somewhere else when I needed her here?
    â€˜Is everything all right? Do you need some help with something?’
    The voice, coming from the other side of the fence, sounded genuinely concerned. I swung round, answering automatically. ‘No, really it’s fine, it’s just my mum, she–’
    I stopped dead, the hairs on the back of my neck springing to attention.
    It was the tall man in black. The one the others had called Caleb, leaning over the chain-linked fence. Wondering how he could help me with my problem. Not having a clue that he was my problem. Him and his weirdo mates. And their coffin.
    Daylight hadn’t done him any favours; he looked every bit as creepy by day as he had by night.
    He was unnaturally pale, with black stovepipe trousers and a long-sleeved black shirt that, despite the heat, was buttoned to the throat and wrists. Reflective shades covered his eyes, and he’d pulled a dark pork-pie hat down low over his brow. The long hair that fell past his shoulders had been clippered short around his ears, showing off small silver rings, two in each earlobe. He had a neat goatee that I hadn’t noticed last night and a slight paunch, which I found momentarily reassuring. It made him less intimidating, more human somehow.
    The thought made my throat seize up. More human ... what on earth had made me think that?
    â€˜Is there someone you’d like me to call?’ His voice was soft and smooth, but I couldn’t see his eyes, which was freaking me out. ‘You’re welcome to borrow my phone, if there’s a problem.’
    My mouth wasn’t working properly. I was fairly sure it was moving, but no sound was coming out. Perhaps he was used to people gulping like goldfish at him, because he didn’t seem to take offence.
    â€˜My name is Caleb.’ He raised a pale, hairless hand. For a moment I thought he wanted me to shake it, but he just gave me a kind of a half salute. ‘I’m your new neighbour. We’re moving in here today.’
    I nodded as though this was news and I was cool with it, and tried to shove my hands into my pockets. But I was still in my pyjama shorts, so I ended up just kind of wiping my sweaty palms on my pants legs, folding my arms, unfolding them and then running my hands through my hair because I couldn’t think of anything else to do with them.
    He was making me nervous. That always made me blither like an idiot on the inside, but not much was managing to work its way out through my mouth.
    â€˜And I assume that you would be ... Henry?’
    How the hell did he know that? Was he psychic as well as psycho? Was this weird guy in black stalking me?
    â€˜Lydia said I’d probably run into you before school.’
    I swallowed and the day kind of dimmed. ‘You know my mum?’
    He nodded. ‘We met this morning.’ Then he hesitated. ‘I couldn’t help noticing that you seemed keen to catch her before she left for work. Are you sure you don’t want to borrow my mobile and give her a quick call?’
    He held out a wicked iPhone – one that ordinarily I would have queued to even touch. But now I backed off. I didn’t want to use his phone, I didn’t want anything to do with him and I certainly didn’t want him doing me any favours.
    â€˜No, it’s OK. I’ll call her – uh–’ I kept back-pedalling, trying to get as far away from him as possible. ‘–Later.’
    He raised a hand in a casual salute.
    â€˜Sure, Henry. Later. You can count on it.’
    I rushed back into the house. I’d have to ring Mum, there was nothing else for it. Please God, let her have remembered to leave her numbers