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garden beyond was a jungle of tangled, shoulder-high weeds, except for a narrow path trodden through the middle. I stepped over a patch of singed grass, perfectlyround like a crop circle, where a fire must have started but not caught. A massive fig tree leaned over a rickety fence; its roots had punched through a concrete path.
    He led me past a shallow, stagnant pond covered with a layer of green scum. The air around us vibrated with the hum and click of insects. A black and eel-like thing uncoiled and slid under the surface; something else skittered away through the tall grass, leaving a trail of waving stalks.
    ‘Nice place you have here,’ I joked to cover my unease.
    Silence frowned and pressed a finger to his lips. Shhh.
    We exited the jungle under a drooping verandah at the rear of a terraced house. Yellowed newspaper was taped to the windows. The door was padlocked shut. Silence crept along an uneven stone path and tapped on a darkened window that I figured must lead to a basement or cellar. He waited. When nothing happened, he reached up and knocked gently on a ground-floor window. Taptap…taptaptap…tap. Nothing. Again, the same sequence. Taptap…taptaptap…tap.
    ‘Maybe there’s no one home,’ I whispered.
    Silence slumped. He slid down the wall and wrapped his arms around his knees.
    I looked up at the window and a white face appeared. I gasped and took a step backwards. ‘There’s someone in there.’
    Silence scrambled to his feet and waved at the face. He pulled me over to the basement window. A snap, a click,and the window shuddered open, leaving just enough space to crawl through. Silence went first, dragging my backpack with him. He gestured for me to follow.
    I hesitated for a moment. I stared into that gaping hole, then looked back at the sunlit garden. I had a fear of dark, enclosed spaces that bordered on claustrophobia. My heart was beating too fast. Another sinuous movement, a hissing noise in the sun-striped grass and I grabbed Silence’s hand and let him pull me into the cellar.
    He reached through the window and hauled my swag after him.
    Inside, the air was damp and cold. There was nothing but an old fridge and crates of empty bottles and cans.
    Swift and sure-footed, Silence moved towards a steep staircase over the other side of the room, my backpack slung over his shoulder.
    I stayed perched on the sill to let my eyes adjust to the dim light.
    The girl who let us in sat on the bottom step of the staircase. She looked about sixteen. Everything about her was faded: her short yellow hair, washed-out blue eyes, denim jacket. She was so thin and pale she seemed almost transparent.
    She chewed viciously on a fingernail and glared at us.
    ‘You’re in trouble,’ she taunted Silence, without taking her eyes off me. ‘You’ve had two lockouts and you’re sixty down on your contributions.’
    Silence flipped her the finger, then curled it into a ‘come hither’ for me.
    The girl snapped, ‘And now you bring her here. You’re so screwed.’ She ran up the steps, through a doorway that leaked weak light into the cellar.
    Silence shrugged, but the gesture seemed forced. He started up the stairs, treading carefully over missing steps.
    I jumped down from the ledge and followed him, dragging my swag behind me.
    The hallway was almost as dark as the cellar and my boots caught on threadbare carpet that reeked of dust and mould. The walls were papered with newspaper clippings and handwritten notes that looked like shopping lists. More mouldering newspapers were stacked in towers all along one side, leaving only a narrow space to walk through.
    Silence led me into a kitchen that had nothing but a sink, a single row of chipped cupboards and an old door balanced on top of two crates. A guy who looked like he belonged to the same era as the house stood by the makeshift table. I thought he must have been about seventeen, eighteen maybe. He wore a shirt with puffy sleeves, bib’n’brace trousers