The Mammoth Book of Best New Horror. Volume 19

'Oh, really, Paul?' said Paul, pretending to mimic Cassie. 'That's fascinating, Paul. Thank you for sharing that, Paul.'

'Ask your dad, Ellie. He seems to know all about it.' Cassie placed her hand on Paul's leg and smiled at him. 'It was fascinating, darling. I didn't know that, actually.'

'It's only conjecture. Academic gossip, you know.'

'Are we nearly there?' asked James.

'That's a good question,' said Cassie, looking at Paul. 'Are we nearly there?'

'You tell me. You've got the map.' Paul's lips straightened into a suppressed smile.

Conversation was soon restricted to the essentials of navigation while they negotiated Blackburn.

'Who are we going to see again?' James asked as they found their way back on to the A666.

'Penny and Howard. Friends of your mam's.'

'Howard and Penny, friends of your dad's more like,' said Cassie.

'I thought we were going to see Connor,' said James.

'We are,' said Paul. 'Connor is Penny and Howard's son.'

'Are those the people we met in the park?' James asked.

'You know they are. Now, shush, matey. I've got to read the signs.'

'Your dad needs all his concentration to read the signs. A lot of men find it very, very hard reading signs.'

Paul smiled, then frowned at a hidden sign.

'What did that say? Did that say Wilpshire?'

They turned off the A666 and within a couple of minutes pulled up outside a well-kept Victorian semi. Pampas grasses grew in the lawned garden, steps led up to the front door. Paul pulled on the handbrake.

'Paul, I hope this is going to be all right,' Cassie said quietly. 'I mean, we barely know these people.'

'It's a little late for that,' Paul answered.

'We've been out with them, what, twice for drinks?'

'You know what they say about pampas grasses, don't you?' Paul muttered.

'What?' came James's voice from the back.

'Never you mind,' said Paul. 'It'll be fine. Penny's into stained glass, remember. If you run out of things to talk about, just talk about stained glass. Did you know, children, that your mam's in the Guinness Book of Records for length of time talking about stained glass.'

'What about you and Howard?' asked Cassie with an indulgent smile.

'We'll have something in common. Didn't he say he liked punk and new wave? Late 1970s, 1980s music? In any case, no one expects blokes to talk. We just have to sit there looking like we're not having a shit time. Anyway,' he added, 'this is for the children, isn't it? They liked Connor when they met him in the park. And it's kind of them to invite us. Perhaps they know what it's like to be new to an area.'

At that point, Cassie became aware of the front door opening and Penny and Howard appeared, all smiles. The child, Connor, squeezed between their legs and ran down the path towards them.

'Here goes,' she said as she opened the car door.

They got the standard tour.

Downstairs rooms tastefully restored, with an attractive archway ('Looks original. I don't know, maybe 1920s') connecting them. Kitchen long and narrow — 'We're going to open it up at the back — here and here — and have lovely big French windows where that corner is,' said Penny. 'It's lovely how it is,' flattered Cassie. 'What, all this clinker? Tongue and groove? Ugh.' And so it went on. Upstairs, Connor's bedroom ('Is this really my room?' Strange child. Though weren't all children strange, apart from your own, Cassie thought), amazingly tidy for a ten-year-old's; Penny and Howard's room, drawers and wardrobes neatly closed; and a tiny office for Penny ('Oh, you know, PR,' she said with a modest, almost dismissive wave of the hand, when asked to remind them what she did) — a filing cabinet, a laptop closed on a little table, a suspiciously tidy desk-tidy, a pile of magazines (Lancashire Life, Closer, OK). And finally the converted attic, double bed, fresh towels. Velux windows — 'You can see Blackpool Tower on a good day.'

It wasn't a good day.

Back downstairs a bottle of Pinot Grigio was opened for Cassie and Penny, and local beers broken out for the boys.

'Boys,' said Penny with a little laugh.

The children had stayed upstairs with Connor.

'Is this Wire?' Paul asked, glancing at the stereo. 'Early Wire, by the sound of it.'

'Yes, it's Pink Flag,' said Howard.

'Oh, they're off,' said Penny, leaning towards Cassie on the leather sofa and dropping her hand briefly on her knee.

Flashes of red and green lit up the sky outside the window, followed by a bang.

'It's not fireworks night yet, is it?' asked Paul.

'We've not had Halloween yet,' Cassie said.

'I remember when fireworks were saved until Guy Fawkes' Night and Halloween was neither here nor there,' said Howard.

'Mmm,' agreed Paul. 'Nice beer,' he added, holding his glass up to the halogen lighting to admire its golden-brown colour.

Howard passed him the bottle.

'Pendle Witches Brew,' Paul read from the label.

'Pendle Hill's just up the road,' Howard offered.

'It's very good of you to invite us over,' Paul heard Cassie saying to Penny.

'We know what it's like when you've just moved somewhere new,' Penny said in response.

'It was weird that day in the park,' Cassie remembered. 'You and I met pretty much exactly at the same time as Howard and Paul bumped into each other right over the other side of the park.'

'I remember you had Ellie with you in the playground,' said Penny, 'and I assumed it was just the two of you. Then you told me your husband and son were somewhere kicking a football. And a minute later they turned up — with Howard and Connor.'

'What were you doing there anyway,' Cassie asked, 'so far from home?'

There was a moment's silence. Paul looked up and saw Penny staring into her wine glass.

'We'd been for a walk, hadn't we, darling? In Fletcher Moss Gardens,' said Howard.

'Yes, of course,' said Penny, getting to her feet. 'I'm just going to check on the hotpot.'

'Lancashire hotpot!' exclaimed Paul in delight.

'Is there any other kind?'

'So, have you not been here long?' Cassie asked Howard.

'Oh dear, is it that obvious?' Howard said, and Paul saw Cassie colour up. 'No, we haven't been here that long, hence the drive down to south Manchester to investigate Fletcher Moss. We're still seeing the sights.'

'I think I'll go and see if Penny wants a hand,' said Cassie, and Paul raised his glass to his lips to hide his look of dismay.

'Lovely house,' he said, his eyes scanning the walls. There was a handful of pictures, but they were beyond bland, the sort of thing you might buy for a fiver in IKEA. 'Do you mind?' he asked as he got up and walked over to check out the CD collection.

'Go ahead. A lot of stuff's still in storage. That's just what I couldn't bear to be parted from.'

Joy Division, The Cure, Buzzcocks, UK Subs.

'What's your favourite Cure album?' he asked Howard.

'Oh, I don't know. Remind me which ones are up there.'

'Seventeen Seconds, Pornography, Faith, Disintegration.. .'

'Er, I really don't know. Disintegration, perhaps.'

'Mm-hmm. 'The Hanging Garden' is an amazing track, isn't it?'

'Fantastic.'

Paul moved away from the CD collection and noticed an Ordnance Survey map folded up on the