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Maggie Zappa, still in her Mrs Cratchit dress and bonnet, appeared in the doorway.
    She sat down on a toadstool on the other side of the table and pulled a packet of cigarettes from the pocket of her lacy apron. She took one out and offered it to me.
    ‘Go on.’
    I didn’t think, I just took it with a hand I didn’t realise was shaking. She cupped her hand around the end and held the lighter as I inhaled. Seb had taught me how to do it without coughing. I let the smoke out, slowly. ‘We’re not allowed up here. Mrs Saul-Hudson said it was out of bounds over Christmas.’
    ‘Why are we up here then?’ said Maggie, blowing smoke through the little square window. ‘You’re gonna get a bruise there.’ She pushed her finger into my forehead. There was a pulsating ache radiating out from where she touched me and I winced.
    ‘Aargh! God. What the hell did I do?’
    ‘I wondered how long it would take.’
    I looked at her as I exhaled the cigarette smoke, shuddering at the taste. I felt warmer somehow. ‘What?’
    ‘You and Clarice going at it in the Chapel. I was outside. I watched the whole thing through the window.’
    I shook my head. ‘I don’t know what happened. I can’t even remember what I did. My head hurts, I know that.’
    ‘You beat the crap out of her, that’s what you did,
ma petite oignon
,’ said Maggie, cigarette dangling from her mouth as she laid up one of the plastic plates with bits and pieces from the box of fake food. ‘Your head hurts becauseyou headbutted her. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s all right. She deserved it. She’s a total dick.’
    ‘Violence is never the answer.’
    ‘Sometimes it is,’ said Maggie. ‘Just because her parents own a racehorse and live in Dubai, doesn’t mean she owns the world.’
    ‘They own the fifth largest racing stables in the world.’
    ‘So? Some people are born dicks, some achieve dick-ness and some have dick-ness thrust upon them. Isn’t that how the saying goes?’
    ‘Something like that.’ I sniffed. ‘I just saw red. Nothing could have stopped me. I lost it. I completely lost it.’
    ‘She deserved it, don’t worry. She’s had that coming for a long time, let me tell you. She was born a dick. There’s no point going over it, wondering if she has Daddy issues or if Mummy never let her drive the Ferrari. Don’t reason with it. You’ve got to show people like that what’s what or they’ll stamp all over you. She won’t give you any more grief now, just you watch.’
    ‘She said my brother was dead. She said she hoped he died in pain.’
    ‘Ugh, what a cow!’ said Maggie.
    ‘I
know
he’s dead.’
    ‘You know that for a fact, do you?’
    ‘No.’ I dragged on the cigarette.
    ‘Well then. You don’t know jack.’
    We stared each other out. Maggie wasn’t going to be first blinker, so I gave in. I didn’t understand what she was doing here. Of all the people to come to my aid, Maggie was the last I’d expected. We’d barely had a conversation since she’d started at Bathory last spring. But here she was, giving me acigarette and seeing me at my absolute worst, but not judging me. It was just what a friend would do.
    ‘It’s been nearly a week since he went missing.’
    ‘Five days I’d heard.’
    ‘I don’t know what’s happening to me. I haven’t slept properly for ages. I’m forgetting chores. There’s misspellings all over today’s diary. I read over my libretto first thing. I couldn’t remember any of my lines for
A Christmas Carol.
I knew them all last week. I knew all
yours
last week too.’
    ‘So? There’s more important things in life than chores and a play everyone’s seen a million times. And the Muppets did it waaaay better anyway.’
    ‘Yeah, I know, but …’
    ‘Plus them four Pups they’ve got playing our kids—how come they’re all white? At the very least they ought to be mixed race. It’s totally miscast.’ She dragged on her cigarette until the stem was nearly all ash.