“I hate you!” I scream at him. “Everyone thinks I’m mental because of you! No wonder your stupid arrows never work! Nobody wants to go out with someone who’s insane!”

And then I hear Dad’s voice outside the door. “Simone? Darling, can I come in?”

Oh, crap. I wonder if he’s had a phone call from school again. “You can stay right there,” I hiss at Eric. “I haven’t finished with you.” After all, it’s not like Dad’s going to be able to see him. I open the door.

I’ve never seen Dad really angry before. I mean, he doesn’t really get angry. At least, he didn’t used to. It was always Mum who screamed and threw things when they had a row. It’s a bit scary, seeing his face now. I wish Mum was here.

“What the hell are you doing in my daughter’s bedroom?” he snaps out, not sounding like Dad at all.

He’s talking to Eric.

He can see Eric.

I think he’s about to deck Eric.

“Dad!” I yell. He turns round to me and my tummy feels a bit funny. “It’s just Eric,” I tell him. “You know. My imaginary friend.”

“Simone,” he says, and he sounds really, really upset, “this young man is not imaginary. How long has he,” he breaks off and looks at Eric like he’s going to strangle him. “What have you been doing with my daughter?”

“Um, Eric?” I say. “I think you should go. Right now, okay? I’ll talk to Dad.”

“Good plan,” Eric says. He sounds a bit nervous, and he doesn’t take his eyes off Dad. At least, not until the moment he disappears. Poof! Just a wisp of smoke, and another bloody feather.

If I get asthma, I’m suing.