For a moment, Lois doesn’t know where she is. She jerks her head up. It’s dark, but she see something like a carpet on the wall next to her. No — it’s not a wall, and it’s not a carpet. It’s the back of the sofa.
     She rolls over to her other side. The telly is still on. It’s a different show now — one she’s never seen before, with older children in it. They are saying things, and people are laughing — though Lois can’t see who’s laughing, and she can’t understand what’s so funny. This show is weird.
     The only light in the room comes from the telly, making the living room walls keep changing colours. Lois sits up.
     “Mummy?”
     There’s no answer.
     Her heart starts to beat really hard. She remembers the ghost stories some Brownies told her group of Rainbows at a camp last Halloween. Now Lois knows that the dark is hiding something. The doorway into the kitchen is especially dark.
     Maybe the monster that got Jake is in there.
     Lois begins to cry. “Mummy…”
     She runs to the bottom of the stairs, puts her foot on the bottom step, looks up — and stops. There is a little light on the landing, opposite Mummy’s bedroom door. It’s coming from the bathroom. Mummy must be in the bathroom.
     “Mummy!”
     She runs up the first few steps, slips, and grazes her hands on the carpet. It hurts, but somehow she knows the monster in the kitchen is worse. She scrabbles up, and rushes to the landing.
     The bathroom door is closed. A thin line of yellow light comes from the tiny gap all around it. Mummy hasn’t answered yet. Maybe she’s angry — Mummy likes her alone time. But Mummy doesn’t know about the Kitchen Monster yet.
     Lois moves to the bathroom door and knocks gently. “Mummy? I’m scared…”
     Nothing happens.
     “Mummy? Can I come in?”
     Still nothing happens.
     Mummy will be very angry if Lois goes in and finds her on the toilet or having alone time in the bath. Lois thinks the Kitchen Monster is scarier — but now she also realises the Kitchen Monster may be made up. Or maybe it’s not. She doesn’t know. She sniffs, and puts her hand on the door handle. She twists it all the way.
     Still, nothing happens.
     Lois pushes the door open, just enough to see the tiles on the bathroom wall. “Mummy?”
     There’s no answer.
     Suddenly, Lois shoves the door. Even she’s surprised as it flings wide open — she can’t remember thinking to do that. She can see the toilet, the sink, and the open cabinet above the sink — but no Mummy.
     Her breath is going jittery as she steps forward onto the cold bathroom floor. She peers around the door to look at the bath.
     Mummy is in the bath. There’s lots of water, but there are no bubbles, and Mummy still has her clothes on. Her eyes are closed, and her mouth is under the water. She looks fast asleep.
     Lois goes to the side of the bath. She slowly reaches out a hand and taps Mummy’s shoulder. “Mu… Mummy?”
     Mummy doesn’t respond.
     Lois taps a few more times. “Mummy? Mummy? Mum? Mummy?”
     Then she takes her hand away and leans forward to shout really loud into Mummy’s ear.
     “Mummy!”
     Mummy still doesn’t respond.
     Lois screams. She turns around and is looking at the sink, the stairs, the front door, the sofa, the phone. She dashes through the lounge and picks up the phone.
     Seven. Uncle Dore-Dore’s number is seven.
     Her hand is shaking so hard that it takes her a while to find the number seven. When she does, she presses it down so hard it hurts.
     The phone beeps, and a ringing comes through the speaker. Lois hugs it to the side of her face.

Next Chapter: Theo