Mr. Crepsley and me had killed the mad vampaneze — Murlough — in Debbie's house on Christmas Eve, after using her as bait to lure him out of his lair. Before leaving, I'd placed a small Christmas tree by her bedside and decorated it (I'd drugged Debbie and her parents earlier, so they were unconscious when Murlough attacked).

"I'd forgotten about the tree," she muttered. "Which brings us to another point — what happened back then? One moment we were sitting down to dinner, the next I woke up in bed and it was late Christmas Day. Mum and Dad woke in their beds too, with no idea of how they got there."

"How are Donna and Jesse?" I asked, trying to avoid her question.

"Fine. Dad's still travelling the world, going wherever his work takes him, and Mum's started a new… No," she said, prodding me in the chest. "Forget what's been going on with me. I want to know what's up with you. For thirteen years you've been a fond memory. I tried finding you a few times, but you'd vanished without a trace. Now you waltz back into my life, looking as though the years had been months. I want to know what gives."

"It's a long story," I sighed. "And complicated."

"I've got time," she sniffed.

"No, you haven't," I contradicted her, nodding at the closed classroom door.

"Damn. I forgot about them." She strode to the door and opened it. The kids inside had been talking loudly, but they stopped at the sight of their teacher. "Get out your books!" she snapped. "I'll be with you presently." Facing me again, she said, "You're right — we don't have time. And my schedule's full for the rest of the day — I've a teachers' meeting to attend during lunch. But we have to get together soon and talk."

"How about after school?" I suggested. "I'll go home, change clothes, and we can meet… where?"

"My place," Debbie said. "I live on the third floor of an apartment block. 3c, Bungrove Drive. It's about a ten-minute walk from here."