You think you know where your life is going. You think you ve got everything sorted out. You ve defeated your enemies, saved the world, made peace with your family and gone on holiday with the woman you love. And then you discover what you should have known all along: that it takes only one bad day to turn your life upside down. That there s nothing you can have, nothing you ve earned, nothing you ve paid for with blood and loss and suffering that the world can t take away from you.

I stood before all that remained of my home, Drood Hall, and all I could think of was how it used to look. How it had looked all my life. A huge, sprawling old manor house dating back to the time of the Tudor kings, though much added onto and improved through the centuries. Traditional black-and-white-boarded frontage with heavy leaded-glass windows, proud entrance doors strong enough to hold off an army, and a jutting peaked and gabled roof. Four large wings had been added to accommodate the growing size of the family; it was massive and solid in the old Regency style. So large and solid and significant, it looked like it could take on the whole world and win.

High above the extensive grounds, the wide roof rose and fell like a great grey-tiled sea, complete with sharp-peaked gables, scowling gargoyles that doubled as water spouts and ornamental guttering that had probably seemed like a good idea at the time. Add to that a perky little observatory, extensive landing pads for all the family s more outr flying machines (and, of course, the winged unicorns), and more aliens and antennae than you could shake a gremlin at and it all added up to one very crowded and very useful roof.

I used to spend a lot of my time up on the roof when I was just a kid, enjoying the various comings and goings and getting in everyone s way.