She nodded and took a deep, unnecessary breath. “What will happen to Darren?”
“I don't know. Does he have any relatives who would take him?”
“My sister might take him.” The woman shrugged. “She lives in Manchester. The address is in my book, by the telephone. We haven't really spoken for over a year but she loves Darren.”
“I'll do my best.” Harold glanced at the doorway. He could see Sefskapoi lurking just out of the woman's line of sight. He turned back to her. “Darren's special, you know.”
“Of course he is.” She smiled. He was struck by the realisation it was probably the last time she would ever do so. Did she know how special he was? Or was it just the case of every mother's assumption their child was special? She reached out a hand. “Just don't let him near any cats. He ate poor Timmy raw.”
“He...” Harold swallowed. “We thought that was you.”
“Me? No. I loved that cat. It was my mothers.” She closed her eyes. “I'm ready.”
Harold took a deep breath breath. “Demon? Time to come out, mate.” He gave an upward nod to Jasfoup.