of looking after him and the thought of living with someone who came back from the dead three times was the scariest thought of all.
On the Saturday after their arrival, she carried her breakfast into the den and braced herself for his return home.
‘Mr Hyland will be arriving shortly,’ her mother said. ‘I don’t want you staring out the window at him. His only request is that you respect his privacy. Be quiet and stay in the den until I’ve settled him into bed.’
She smoothed down the front of her uniform and brushed her hand over her hair in case a few strands had escaped from her ponytail. Gone were the skinny trousers, high heels and dresses that used to float around her knees.
Gone were the curls that fell to her shoulders and the eye make-up that made her look like a sphinx. Instead, she wore a white uniform and flat shoes that made no sound as she left the den and closed the door quietly behind her.
‘Don’t spy,’ Julie warned when the sound of an engine reached them from across the courtyard.
‘Just a quick look, that’s all,’ said Isobel but it was Charlie, not The Recluse, who was parking his hearse in the courtyard. He stepped down from the driver seat and walked erectly to the back of the hearse. Isobel was never able to see him without imagining him walking in front of a coffin. She glimpsed a swirl of yellow fur when he opened the hatch at the back of the hearse and released a dog, who immediately ran towards the window where Isobel was standing. For a horrified instant she thought the dog would crash through the glass but he stopped in time and planted his massive paws on the windowsill. Streaks of black and yellow hair covered his face. Saliva dripped from his open mouth and his fangs glistened as he stared at her through smouldering eyes. She could hear him barking, sharp, staccato sounds that had a terrifyingly dangerous pitch. Julie dived towards the chaise longue where she had left Cordelia and covered their faces with a rug. Peeper crawled from under an armchair and stared calmly out at the dog, who barked even louder. When Charlie whistled at him, he dropped to the ground and followed him up the steps. Was it possible that a dog who looked capable of ripping out her throat was about to enter the house? Her mother answered the door and Isobel’s question was answered when she heard the dog padding across the hall.
‘Is he a werewolf, Issy?’ Julie’s muffled voice came from behind the rug.
‘What else could he be?’ Isobel replied. ‘But don’t worry. He won’t go mad until there’s a full moon.’
‘He’s going upstairs to Fear Zone.’ Julie had decided on a name for The Recluse’s quarters and Isobel was not going to argue with her choice. The dog appeared to be in the room directly above them and Julie, holding tightly to Cordelia, said, ‘What do werewolves do, Issy?’
‘What’s all this talk about werewolves?’ Their mother had returned unnoticed to the den.
‘There’s a werewolf upstairs,’ Julie replied in her pretend Cordelia voice.
‘Where did you get that idea?’ Their mother sounded amused. ‘Caesar is a German Shepherd, not a werewolf, and he’s Mr Hyland’s pet. Have you been filling your sister’s head with nonsense again, Isobel?’
‘Why are you blaming me? I never said anything—’
Her protests were interrupted by Victor’s arrival in his fancy, silver jeep. He had collected The Recluse from hospital and the moment Isobel had been dreading was finally here. Sophy closed the curtains then hurried from the den with a final warning to Isobel not to spy.
‘Can you see The Recluse, Issy?’ Julie whispered when Isobel twitched the curtain on the nearest window ever so slightly. ‘Can you?’
Isobel nodded and put a finger to her lips as Victor helped his uncle down from the passenger seat. Apart from a grey scarf that hid his face, The Recluse was dressed in black: a black hat with a wide brim and a black coat that swept the ground when he hunched forward. His body seemed fragmented by the
panes of glass as he straightened slowly. Isobel was reminded of a puppet being pulled upward by invisible strings. He thumped his walking stick off the courtyard as he walked stiffly towards her mother, who was waiting to greet him at the bottom of the steps.
When he reached the stone lions he stopped and stared towards the den.