He was lying in bed and a shaft of moonlight, cutting through a window above his head, was illuminating something that was sitting on him, something dark and sleek. His eyes focused and there was a close-up view of a furry, whiskered head and a twitching nose. It took an instant before he realised what he was looking at. Then he gave a yell and thrashed upright and the rat was gone, scampering madly away over the grimy bed covers and on to the bare floorboards. There was a groan from beside him, the sound of somebody stirring from sleep. Then a voice muttered into his ear with a suddenness that made him start. ‘What’s the matter with you?’ It was Cameron’s voice. Tom realised this wasn’t his bedroom in Wilmslow. He was back at Missie Grierson’s orphanage, in the room under the eaves. The same shaft of moonlight that had shown him the rat now illuminated Cameron’s grumpy face. He looked none too pleased to have been woken in such a fashion.
