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slip. ‘Jamie Knight. Ground floor flat, 143 Mount Pleasant Street.’
    ‘Yes, that’s me, but I haven’t ordered…’ He sighed. ‘Hold on a minute.’
    He went into the flat. ‘You didn’t order a pizza, did you Kirsty?’
    ‘No, you know I haven’t.’
    ‘Oh God.’ He ran his hands through his hair. ‘It’s looks like we’ve has another hoax. Still, at least this one’s not as bad as the fire brigade turning up.’
    Heather said, ‘This is really creepy. Have you made an enemy recently?’
    Kirsty’s face creased with anxiety. ‘I don’t believe this. Who can be doing it?’
    Jamie said, ‘I’d better go and tell the pizza guy to take it away.’
    He went back into the hall, leaving Kirsty cursing behind him. He felt sick.
    ‘Sorry mate, but I think you’ve been hoaxed. You’d better take it back.’ He pulled an apologetic face.
    The pizza courier turned round and stomped back to his moped. As he rode off down the road, Jamie stepped onto the front path and looked left and right, up and down the street. For a city street, there were hardly any signs of life. It was almost unnaturally quiet and still. He turned to go in and the oddest feeling came over him – the feeling that he was being watched. Despite the balmy summer air, he suddenly felt cold. Goosepimples ran up his arm and he shivered a little. He looked around again. No, there was no-one about, although there were lights on in most of the flats in the street; windows thrown open to let in whatever breeze there was.
    He looked down at the Newtons’ flat. The lights were out. There were no signs of life. But their car was there, parked in the spot Jamie and Kirsty had had to vacate earlier. He looked up towards Mary’s window. The light in the room flickered strangely, and at first he thought it was the flicker of a television. It took him a second to realise she must be sitting in candlelight.
    He hugged himself. He still felt cold. The hoaxes had really unnerved him. Nothing like that had ever happened to him before. He had never been targeted for mischief by anyone.
    He thought about what Heather had asked. Had they made any enemies recently? He honestly couldn’t think of anyone. With the flat-buying and everything, they had hardly seen anyone lately, apart from at their party. He didn’t think they’d upset anyone at all. It was a mystery.
    He turned round and went back inside, rubbing the skin on his arms, not warming up until he was safely indoors.

Four
    Jamie woke up and looked at the bedside clock, the LED numbers phosphorescent in the dark. It was half-past-midnight – or half-past-nothing, as the digits 00:30 seemed to indicate. He groaned and pushed the covers down to his waist. It was unbearably hot, even with the sash windows open as far as they would go. During the day, the temperature had hit the high Eighties, and it didn’t feel any cooler now, with the heat of their bodies adding to the humidity. The sheets were damp with sweat. His skin was slick and his hair was stuck to his scalp. He had a sudden, wonderful image of a tub of Häagen-Dazs. He would press its frosted exterior against his brow before devouring the cold, delicious ice cream inside. He groaned again.
    Kirsty turned over and said, ‘Are you alright?’
    ‘I can’t sleep. It’s too hot.’
    ‘I know. And I’ve got to get up in a few hours.’ She reached out and touched Jamie’s side. ‘God, you’re burning up.’
    ‘I need a cold shower.’
    ‘Oh yeah?’ She put her hands on his chest and kissed him.
    ‘I thought you were worried about getting up.’
    ‘Mmmm.’
    They kissed, Jamie running his hands up Kirsty’s back, over her bottom and hips, from the small of her back to her shoulder blades. Her skin was warm but dry, and so soft. He had spent the last two years marvelling over the softness of her skin. If somebody asked him to draw up a list of what he liked best about Kirsty’s body, the softness of her skin would be right up there