Excerpt
Finally the gate jerks open in a cascade of dripping ivy and jeweled spider-webs. She leaps out into the alleyway.
Up, down. Nothing. The weeds pushing up from the edges nod, dripping.
She checks both ways again. It’s quite a long alleyway. No hiding places. How could they have got away so quickly?
Her skin prickles in fright as there’s a splash in the garden behind her. She whips round.
Nothing.
Titter, titter, titter. Back in the alley again. She sticks her head back round outside, the sodden wood of the gate pressing tiny jagged edges into her palms. Nothing. Just the nodding weeds.
“You kids,” she calls out through the falling drops. “You need to be in bed by now. Do your parents know you’re out?” Delivers this half to the alley, half to her own empty backyard.
There’s another splash in the garden. Maybe it’s her imagination playing tricks on her now because she can swear there’s a little whisper barely past her elbow. She struggles violently against a terrible disinclination to leave her back exposed to anything. Every nerve-ending screams out in anarchic chaos, calling havoc. Her brain sits in exposed isolation, trying with complete ineffectuality to calm the populace below.
She closes the gate, hands shaking. Checks around the tiny backyard again. There’s no-where to hide, not even a shed. She shakes her head, spraying drops. Not her business. Not to that extent. At least she’s tried. If they don’t want to be caught, they won’t be caught