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.You never know: We could take our holiday with Ellie and find him living it up in the first bar we pass.”“But we won’t,” I said.“No, we won’t, because whatever else he did wrong, that’s not Jim, that’s not your dad.Oh, that’s terrible,” she said suddenly, leaning around me for a view of the TV.A light aircraft had lost control and smashed into an apartment building on the south side of the Thames.The breaking news showed a tower of fire captured on camera from a helicopter.As the story unfolded, I wondered how many seconds or minutes ago the telegraph machine had woken with a start and how many names were on this list.And I wondered if Becky might be seeing this now, knowing Mr.October and Lu and others from the Ministry were on their way even as we watched.“They’re going to have their hands full tonight,” I said quietly, more to myself than to Mum.Mum looked at me askance.“Pardon? Who?”“The emergency services,” I said as the camera zoomed in and the building began to collapse.I had a terrible sleep, the kind where you spend the night dreaming you’re wide awake.At one point, about three in the morning, Dad came into the room and sat on the bed, stroking my forehead.I could barely make out his outline in the inky darkness, but I recognized his voice as soon as he spoke.“Remember when we were at the old house and you still believed in Santa Claus?” he said.“And you stayed awake one Christmas Eve, waiting to hear him come and start unloading presents around the living room?”I nodded but, being asleep, didn’t reply.I may have moaned and murmured a little.“You wanted to sneak downstairs and catch him in the act,” Dad continued, “so you could tell your friends at school, the ones who didn’t believe, that you’d seen him.Just before midnight you heard footsteps and papers rustling in the living room, so you crept down and peeked around the corner.And there I was, rolling up newspapers and laying them in the fireplace so that we could have a fire in the morning.But there were no presents to see.I hadn’t put them out yet.”I groaned, tossing and turning.He rested a strong hand on my shoulder to settle me.“You weren’t disappointed to see me instead of him,” he said.“You were angry.I’d never seen you so angry.Remember?”Somewhere between sleep and consciousness I shook my head.Angry? I couldn’t recall that at all.“You said, ‘Why are you still up, Dad? Why don’t you go to bed? If he sees you, he won’t come.What’re you thinking?’ Makes me laugh to think of it now.You always were a dreamer.You always needed something to believe in, like the business you’re involved in now.”He stroked my cheek, and his fingers felt soft and clammy against my skin.“Do you still believe in me, Ben?” he asked.Dad, I thought, would you mind not doing that? Your hand is so cold.“Do you?” he asked.Of course I do, I thought.A car passed outside, its booming sound system rattling the walls.Its headlights streamed across the window, throwing into sharp relief the figure perched on the bed, stroking my cheek.It wasn’t my father.That wasn’t his face and those weren’t his hands.The last time I’d seen this visitor, it’d been at my throat, those hollowed-out eyes just fractions away from mine, the scent of the grave whispering off it.“We can get to you anywhere, any time,” it said.A gargling sound wormed out of its throat.The lipless mouth opened wide and rushed at me, closing over my face.With a shout, I wriggled out from under the duvet and threw myself across the room, thumping against the wall and sliding down to my haunches on the carpet.It’s all right, I thought.Deep breaths.No one there.Only me down here on the floor and my sleeping self in the bed, turning over with a sigh and a swish of bedclothes.I’m still asleep.There’s nothing to fear.We can get to you anywhere, any time.I slept on, dreaming of being awake watching myself sleep.Perhaps this was how newly-departeds felt, displaced and outside themselves, looking in.My shoulders rose and fell with each breath, and now and again I shivered and moaned.My fists drew into white-knuckled bundles at my chin, clenched so tightly that by morning my nails had cut red half-moon shapes in my palms.“‘All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream,’ innit?” read Mel.Mr.Glover winced and shook his world-weary head.“What?” said Mel.“Nothing,” he sighed.“Please continue.”“He can’t win,” Becky whispered.“He’s going to break down and cry if she keeps this up.”It created quite a stir when Becky chose to sit with me during English.The others in her gang stared at her as if she’d lost her marbles.The twins said nothing, but I had a good idea what they were thinking.Only Raymond Blight looked the other way, disinterested.“Did you catch the news?” Becky said.I nodded
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