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skimming over it.
    She never got that far. The muffled sound of the closing theme song to
Staunchly Springs
(tinklingly cheerful, but with just enough minor chords to remind you about the body under the patio) was suddenly drowned out by an almighty crash.
    And then silence.
    Belladonna raced into the sitting room. Her father was standing in front of the fireplace with his mouth hanging open, but there was no sign of her mother.
    “What happened?”
    He didn’t say anything. The chair that her mother had been sitting in (well, pretending to sit in) was on its side, the television was still wittering away, and her father was staring at a spot somewhere in the middle of the room. Belladonna detected a faint smell, as if someone had struck a match and then immediately blown it out.
    “Dad,” she was trying to keep the panic out of her voice. “What is it?”
    He looked at her, as if he didn’t know who she was. Then he was himself again.
    “Something’s wrong,” he said.
    “That’s what Elsie said, but—”
    “No, listen, I don’t know how long I’ve got,” he was speaking rapidly, urgently, not the way he usually spoke to his daughter.
    Belladonna’s eyes widened. There was a knot in her stomach.
    “You’re going to have to call your Aunt Deirdre. She’ll know what to do. Tell her what’s happened. Tell her the doors are closing.”
    “But what
has
happened? What doors?”
    “The doors to the Other Side. Tell her there’s only one left. She’ll know which one. And don’t go out. Whatever you do, don’t go out until she gets here.”
    “But—”
    She never got any further. The words froze in her throat as she saw her father seem to compress inward and squeeze upward until he became a thin line fromfloor to ceiling before both ends of the line shot together and he vanished, leaving a small bright spot, which faded to nothing.
    Belladonna stared at the space where he had been, half expecting him to flash back into existence again and reveal that it had all been a huge joke. But he didn’t. The room was empty and silent except for the endless cheery blather of the television. She glanced at the woman reading the news, her too-white smile cutting into the room. Belladonna turned on her heels and ran into the hallway. She pulled her mother’s address book out of a drawer in the hall stand and frantically leafed through it. Her hands were shaking and tears were burning in her eyes when she picked up the phone, and it took her two tries to get the number right.
    “Hello?”
    The voice on the other end was brisk and no-nonsense. Belladonna felt better already. She took a deep breath.
    “Aunt Deirdre,” she said, trying not to sound as scared as she felt, “it’s Belladonna.”
    There was a moment’s silence on the other end of the phone.
    “What’s happened?”
    Belladonna related the evening’s events. Aunt Deirdre asked a few questions, but mostly just listened. When Belladonna finished, there was silence on the other end of the phone.
    “Hello?”
    “I’m here,” said Aunt Deirdre in a voice that was still matter-of-fact and calm. “Right. I’m on my way. Lock the doors. Are the curtains drawn?”
    “I’m not sure. Some, I suppose. . . .”
    “Draw them. Don’t go outside.”
    “But what about—”
    “Don’t speak. Listen. What did I just say?”
    “Don’t go outside. Lock the doors. Draw the curtains.”
    “Good. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
    There was a click as Aunt Deirdre hung up. Belladonna put the phone down slowly. She was glad that Aunt Deirdre was coming, but knew it would take her a while. She lived in London, where she had something to do with banks or finances. Even if she started out now, Belladonna knew it was a three-hour drive. Maybe she should call her grandmother.
    She had her hand on the phone before she thought better of it. If it wasn’t safe for her to be out, then it probably wasn’t safe for Grandma Johnson either, and Belladonna knew that