"Something wonderful," he grinned.

"What?"

"Outside. Come with me."

Every vein in his body seemed to be bulging from his skin. In his eyes was a gleam she didn't trust. His smile only deepened her suspicion.

"I'm not going anywhere, Tommy..." she said.

"Why are you fighting?" he asked, c.o.c.king his head. "Just because he touched you it doesn't mean you belong to him."

"What are you talking about?"

"Katz. I know what he did. Don't be ashamed. You're forgiven. But you have to come and apologize in person."

"Forgiven?" she said, her raised voice encouraging the ache in her skull to new mischief. "You've got no right to forgive me, you a.s.shole! You of all-"

"Not me," Tommy-Ray said, the smile unwavering. "Our father."

"What?"

"Who art outside-"

She shook her head. The ache was getting worse.

"Just come with me. He's in the yard." He left off holding the door frame and started across the kitchen towards her. "I know it hurts," he said. "But the Jaff'll make it better."

"Keep away from me!"

"This is me, Jo-Beth. This is Tommy-Ray. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"Yes there is! I don't know what, but there is."

"You think that because you've been tainted by Katz," he said. "I'm not going to do anything to hurt you, you know that. We feel things together, don't we? What hurts you hurts me. I don't like pain." He laughed. "I'm weird but I'm not that weird."

Despite her doubts, he won her over with that argument, because it was the truth. They'd shared a womb for nine months; they were half of the same egg. He meant her no harm.

"Please come," he said, extending his hand.

She took it. Immediately the ache in her head subsided, for which she was grateful. In place of the chatter, her name, whispered.

"Jo-Beth."

"Yes?" she said.

"Not me," said Tommy-Ray. "The Jaff. He's calling you."

"Jo-Beth."

"Where is he?"

Tommy-Ray pointed to the trees. They were suddenly a long way from the house now; almost at the bottom of the yard. She wasn't quite sure how she got so far so quickly, but the wind that had toyed with the curtains now had her in thrall, ushering her forward, it seemed, towards the thicket. Tommy-Ray let his hand slip from hers.

Go on, she heard him say, this is what we've been waiting for...

She hesitated. There was something about the way the trees moved, their foliage churning, which reminded her of bad sights: a mushroom cloud, perhaps; or blood in water. But the voice that came to coax her was deep and rea.s.suring, and the face that spoke it-visible now-moved her. If she was going to call any man father, this would be a good man to choose. She liked his beard and his heavy brow. She liked the way his lips shaped the words he spoke with a delicious precision.

"I'm the Jaff," he said. "Your father."

"Really?" she said.

"Really."

"Why are you here now? After all this time?"

"Come closer. I'll tell you."

She was about to make another step when she heard a cry from the house.

"Don't let it touch you!"

It was Momma, her voice raised to a volume Jo-Beth would never have believed her capable of. The shout stopped her in her tracks. She turned on her heel. Tommy-Ray was standing directly behind her. Beyond him, coming across the lawn barefoot, her nightgown unb.u.t.toned, was Momma.

"Jo-Beth, come away from it!" she said.

"Momma?"

"Come away!"

It was almost five years since Momma had stepped out of the house; more than once in that time she'd said she'd never leave it again. Yet here she was, her expression all alarm, her cries not requests but commands.

"Come away, both of you!"

Tommy-Ray turned to face his mother. "Go inside," he said. "This is nothing to do with you."

Momma slowed her approach to a walk.

"You don't know, son," she said. "You can't begin to understand."

"This is our father," Tommy-Ray replied. "He's come home. You should be grateful."

"For that?" Momma said, her eyes huge. "That's what broke my heart. And it'll break yours too if you let it." She stood a yard from Tommy now. "Don't let it," she said softly, reaching out to touch his face. "Don't let it hurt us."

Tommy-Ray dashed Momma's hand away.

"I warned you," he said. "This is nothing to do with you!"

Momma's response was instant. She took a step towards Tommy-Ray and struck him across the face; an openhanded slap which echoed against the house.

"Stupid!" she yelled at him. "Don't you know evil when you see it?"

"I know a f.u.c.king lunatic when I see one," Tommy-Ray spat back. "All your prayers and talk of the Devil...You make me sick! You try and spoil my life. Now you want to spoil this. Well, no way! Poppa's home! So f.u.c.k you!"

His display seemed to amuse the man in the trees; Jo-Beth heard laughter from him. She glanced round. He had apparently not antic.i.p.ated her glance because he'd let the mask he was wearing slip a little. The face she'd found so fatherly had swelled; or something behind it had. His eyes and forehead were enlarged; the bearded chin, and his mouth, which she'd thought so fine, almost vestigial. Where her father had been was a monstrous infant. She cried out at the sight of him.

Instantly the thicket around threw itself into a frenzy. The branches lashed at themselves like flagellants, stripping bark and shredding foliage, their motion so violent she was sure they would uproot themselves and come for her.

"Momma!" she said, turning back towards the house.

"Where are you going?" Tommy-Ray said.

"That's not our father!" she said. "It's a trick! Look! It's a terrible trick!"

Tommy-Ray either knew and didn't care or was so deeply under the Jaff's influence he only saw what the Jaff wanted him to see.

"You're staying with me!" he said, grabbing hold of Jo-Beth's arm, "with us!"

She struggled to be free of him but his grip was too fierce. It was Momma who intervened, with a downward stroke of her fist which broke his hold. Before. Tommy-Ray could recapture her, Jo-Beth made a dash for the house. The storm of foliage followed her across the gra.s.s, as did Momma, whose hand she took as they raced for the door.

"Lock it! Lock it!" Momma said, as they got inside.

She did so. No sooner had she turned the key than Momma was calling her to follow.

"Where?" Jo-Beth said.

"My room. I know how to stop it. Hurry!"

The room smelt of Momma's perfume, and stale linen, but for once its familiarity offered comfort. Whether the room also offered safety was moot. Jo-Beth could hear the back door kicked open downstairs, then a ruckus that sounded as though the contents of the refrigerator was being pitched around the kitchen. Silence followed.

"Are you looking for the key?" Jo-Beth said, seeing Momma reaching beneath her pillows. "I think it's on the outside."

"Then get it!" Momma said. "And be quick!"

There was a creak on the other side of the door which made Jo-Beth think twice about opening it. But with the door unlocked they had no means of defense whatsoever. Momma talked of stopping the Jaff, but if it wasn't the key she was digging for it was her prayer-book, and prayers weren't going to stop anything. People died all the time with supplication on their lips. She had no choice but to fling the door open.

Her eyes went to the stairs. The Jaff was there, a bearded fetus, his vast eyes fixing her. His tiny mouth grinned. She reached for the key as he climbed. "We're here," he said.

The key wouldn't come out of the lock. She jiggled it, and it suddenly freed itself, slipping from both the lock and her fingers. The Jaff was within three steps of the top of the stairs. He didn't rush. She went down on her haunches to pick up the key, aware for the first time since entering the house that the percussion that had first alerted her to his presence had begun again. Its din confounded her thoughts. Why was she stooping? What was she looking for? The sight of the key reminded her. s.n.a.t.c.hing it up (the Jaff at the summit) she stood, retreated, slammed the door and locked it.

"He's here!" she said to Momma, glancing her way.

"Of course," said Momma. She'd found what she was looking for. It was not a prayer-book, it was a knife, an eight-inch kitchen knife which had gone missing some while ago.

"Momma?"

"I knew it would come. I'm ready."

"You can't fight him with that," she said. "He's not even human. Is he?"

Momma's eyes went to the door.

"Tell me, Momma."

"I don't know what he is," she said. "I've tried to think...all these years. Maybe the Devil. Maybe not." She looked back at Jo-Beth. "I've been afraid for so long," she said. "And now he's here and it all seems so simple."

"Then explain it," Jo-Beth said. "Because I don't understand. Who is he? What has he done to Tommy-Ray?"

"He told the truth," Momma said. "After a fashion. He is your father. Or rather one of them."

"How many do I need?"

"He made a wh.o.r.e of me. He drove me half mad with desires I didn't want. The man who slept with me is your father; but this-" she pointed the knife in the direction of the door, from the far side of which came the sound of tapping "-this is what really made you."

"I hear you," the Jaff murmured. "Loud and clear."

"Keep away," Momma said, moving towards the door. Jo-Beth tried to shoo her back but she ignored the instruction. And with reason. It wasn't the door she wanted to stand beside but her daughter. She seized Jo-Beth's arm and dragged her close, putting the knife to her throat.

"I'll kill her," she said to the thing on the landing. "So help me as there's a G.o.d in Heaven I mean it. Try and come in here and your daughter's dead." Her grip on Jo-Beth was as strong as Tommy-Ray's. Minutes ago he'd called her a lunatic. Either her present performance was a bluff of Oscar-winning skill or else he'd been right. Either way, Jo-Beth was forfeit.

The Jaff was tapping on the door again.

"Daughter?" he said.

"Answer him," Momma told her.

"Daughter?"

"...Yes..."

"Do you fear for your life? Honestly now. Tell me honestly. Because I love you and I want no harm to come to you "

"She fears," Momma said.

"Let her answer," the Jaff said.

Jo-Beth had no hesitation in replying. "Yes," she said. "Yes. She's got a knife and-"

"You would be a fool," the Jaff said to Momma, "to kill the only thing that made your life worth living. But you might, mightn't you?"

"I won't let you have her," Momma said.

There was a silence from the other side of the door. Then the Jaff said: "Fine by me..." He laughed softly. "There's always tomorrow."

He rattled the door one last time, as though to be certain that he was indeed locked out. Then the laughter and the rattling ceased, to be replaced by a low, guttural sound that might have been the groan of something being born into pain, knowing with its first breath there was no escape from its condition. The distress in the sound was at least as chilling as the seductions and threats that had gone before. Then it began to fade.

"It's leaving," Jo-Beth said. Momma still held the blade at her neck. "It's leaving, Momma. Let me go."

The fifth stair from the bottom of the flight creaked twice, confirming Jo-Beth's belief that their tormentors were indeed exiting the house. But it was another thirty seconds before Momma relaxed her hold on Jo-Beth's arm, and another minute still before she let her daughter go entirely.