Well he had to at some point if he was to inspect the neighbourhood to see what was what, who was coming, who was going and there was no way that he would keep to Bram Stoker’s script, no way at all he’d always been a rebel. But he didn’t know about the dare, didn’t know she was lying in wait, waiting to leap on his back, waiting to be taken for a ride off piste. The wormed turned his head in alarm. If only he’d kept to the script. If only he’d stayed safe at home.