” Lucy embraced Michelle and pierced her neck with elongated canines, one hand clamped over Michelle’s biting, screaming mouth. ‘Precisely. ‘On the contrary,’ Gerald argued, frowning. She was unusually soft and gentle in her manner to him. Was there anything at all in those locked rooms of her aunt’s mind? Were they fully furnished and only a little dusty and cobwebby and in need of an airing, or were they stark vacancy except, perhaps, for a cockroach or so or the gnawing of a rat? What was the mental equivalent of a rat’s gnawing? The image was going astray.
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