He came to a door. It was a sturdy wooden door, secured by a heavy beam across its belly. The faint glimmer of orange mould within its cracks spoke of an atmosphere which didn't just like stone to eat. A small sliding panel was inset into the door at eye-level.

Apex drew back the panel to reveal an iron grille. Wretched sobs drifted through the opening. Apex appeared ... concerned? He looked through and saw a distressed woman crouched into a foetal ball amidst the torn remnants of books which must only recently have filled the bookcase. The walls around the barred window were spattered with drying gobbets of tomato sauce and mincemeat. Wine stains disfigured the cream carpet and silk bedspread.

He cleared his throat and spoke hesitantly. "Um, Miss Cartwright?" The woman raised her head to reveal her tear-stained cheeks and reddened eyes.

"What do you want from me? Whatever it is, I can't give it to you. I've given everything I can. You've killed my Alfie, and I have nothing left. I'm not afraid of you anymore. I have nothing to live for."

"Ah. Miss Cartwright, I think you may have misunderstood what happened in the Spirit Room a few hours ago."

"'Misunderstand'? You were torturing him! You trapped him and dragged him across the floor! Then you dropped me down a hole! OK, so there was a slide in it. But the last thing I remember of my love are his fearful screams as you put him on the rack!"

Apex sighed. "Miss Cartwright, that wasn't a rack, it was a perfectly normal surgeon's couch. I had modified the straps a little but ... let me finish! ... but a basically normal couch. And we didn't torture him. We ... frightened him a little, but that was necessary.

"You see, he has been possessed by some spirit. And we sought to bring that spirit into the open by forcing Mr du Plex' mind to go dormant for a while. I must apologise for your own undignified departure, but that was needed to amplify the subject's fear and force him into catatonia."

"And did it work? Was all this brutality useful?"

"Yes," Apex looked almost smug, "it did work. However, I must caution you about Mr du Plex' condition. He must not find out what happened yet."

"But he's not dead." Apex shook his head. "Can I see him?" Jackie was on her feet, looking eagerly at Apex through the grille.

"Of course. I can think of nothing better for him." The door swung open, and Jackie left her recent confinement with a spring in her step. "But remember what I said!

"Here's what I think you should tell him..."

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"Who am I?" is perhaps a more surprising question. The man pondered this new puzzle with some vigour. He could remember a job in London, whatever that was. He remembered being angry with someone at work about being sent somewhere. He tried to make shapes in the fire to help him play out some of these scenes.

Now, that big orangy one could be his editor and the smaller blue one with yellow flashes in it could be him. He made the orange flame form a desk as well, and made the yellow flecks in the blue flame hover in place for eyes. The orangy flame was saying something.

"But this Douglas job is an ideal opportunity at this stage in your career. I can't see why you're so opposed to it. You'll be able to broaden your experience, add depth to your style. Mellow your outlook a little maybe."

"Yeah right," This was the blue flame now, "and while I'm gone that creep McEwan gets to cover the hot stories. You're trying to cover up the Black Theatre story, aren't you?"

"No I am not!" Could that red flicker in the orange flame's top plume be a blush? "We just want to give you some time to cool off, that's all. And nothing was ever proven, you know that."

"And YOU know the evidence was destroyed by blundering fools in the police! But alright, I'll go if it means I will at least have a job to come back to. It would just be nice if the TT was still running, then at least I would have something definite to write about."

The man let the flames go and thought about the time he'd spent in Douglas. He remembered tracing those old legends for something to do, then the big find. Then he remebered his escape after the body of that girl had been found. He knew he shouldn't have run, but he couldn't think of what had happened that night if he hadn't killed her.

Had he killed her? His throat went dry - what had happened there? He reached out for a glass of water and drank from the one that came to hand. But none of this answered the question of who he was. What was his name?

"Alf!" Yes - that was it! He looked up and saw a woman run at him from the open door. A peculiar looking man looked round the corner of the door, then disappeared again mumbling something about letting them catch up. Alf looked startled as the woman threw himself at him. He started to struggle as he was smothered beneath her. She drew back and looked at him quizzically.

"Alf, don't you recognise me?"

He wasn't sure he did. He thought he knew her from his flight from Douglas. He gave a doubtful look as he tried a guess. "Jackie?" Her face was flooded by relief.

"Oh you DO know who I am! Apex said you might be suffering from some amnesia after the treatment."

"Did he? Ah." Apex? Who the hell was Apex? "And did this Apex mention anything else? Like who I was?"

"Oh, silly! You know who you are. And I've got a little present for you..." She looked coyly at him and drew little patterns on his chest with her finger.

Alf's face lit up. "Oh have you! I love surprises! What is it?" When Jackie kissed him, Alf was certainly surprised. Then he started to remember things...

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He couldn't remember the blackouts, but he knew about those. They were rigidly defined areas of doubt and uncertainty. But he still couldn't figure out how he had got to this room. He remembered going into a cellar, then nothing until he'd woken up without a memory in his head.

Beside him Jackie was dozing. He prodded her. "Jackie? Are you awake, Jackie?"

"Mmmm." She flung her arm over him and snuggled closer.

"Jackie! Wake up!" He sat up and she rolled off him onto the pillows. She opened her eyes and looked up at him reproachfully.

"Oh! And I was having this really scrummy dream about ponies! What is it?"

"Jackie, how did I get here?"

"Don't tell me you don't know! It has something to do with what we've just been doing. And we've been doing rather a lot of it so let's just go back to sleep."

"No, no, not that. I mean how did I arrive in this room? The last thing I remember is walking down into a cellar. What's been going on?"

Jackie seemed distressed. She sat up herself and gave Alf a sisterly hug. "Now Alf, I want you to be very calm and don't get angry. Apex hypnotised you." She put her finger to his lips before he could speak. "He said he needed to draw out the possesing spirit to examine it, and the only way to do that was to put you into a trance. I wasn't there when they actually ... hypnotised you, but I trust Apex and I think you should too."

He shook his head. "No. Something about it doesn't ring true. I don't trust Apex any further than I could throw him. My watchfulness has gone for a start." Now it was his turn to put his finger to her lips. "Shh. I know because I always get some background static from insects and so on. And I'm getting nothing. Even though that rat in the corner has been watching us for nearly five minutes."

Jackie spun round to look at the creature which was squatting in the corner by the fire irons, cleaning its face nonchalantly. "Yeuch. Come on Alf, let's try and chase it away." Jackie got out of bed and grabbed one of her shoes, brandishing it like a weapon. She crept up towards it, but the rat seemed unconcerned. She shouted at it and it ignored her. It was only when she tried to hit it with the heel of her shoe that it grudgingly moved out of the way.

Alf grinned at Jackie. "It doesn't seem very frightened, does it? Here, you herd it towards me and I'll try and catch it." Alf stood with his back to the door and crouched like a slipcatcher. Jackie tried to shoo the beast towards Alf's safe hands. It waddled in roughly the direction Jackie wanted it to. Alf laughed, and walked up to the smug rodent. Then he bent down to pick it up, and it ran between his legs.

"Why you ..." Alf spun, and started to run towards the rat. Then he had his hands around the thing's chest, without having visibly crossed the intervening distance. "Gotcha!"

Jackie stared at him, almost at a loss for words. "How did you do that?" was all she could think of.

"Do what?" Alf looked up from his captive, and it bit him. "You miserable little creature!" And then the rat squealed in apparent agony, as its back arched and blood spurted out of its ears and nose. Then it slumped, lifeless, in Alf's grip. Alf looked in bewilderment at the dead rodent.

Jackie ran over and looked in dismay at the distorted rat's body which Alf was still holding, like a rag doll. "What have you done, Alf?"

"I don't know how it happened. When the rat bit me, I thought how much I hated it for hurting me like that. Then a part of my mind I've never noticed before curled up tight, and unwound very fast. Then the rat died. I don't know how I did it," he said quickly, noticing Jackie's concerned look.

"That's not all you've done you know," her tone was accusing. "You teleported across the room to catch that rat."

"Did I?" It was Alf's turn to look startled. He looked as something else had just dawned on him. "And before you came in, I had just materialised a glass of water," he looked at Jackie, "and I was making the flames move like actors on a stage.

"I think I've finally got control of my magic!"

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