Harold was surprised to find Jasfoup watching television, Lucy on his lap seemingly content to eat a yoghurt with her fingers. A cartoon show with humanoid cats flashed in primary colours across the screen. He had some action figures from this series, somewhere. Probably still boxed up in his mum's attic. There was no sign of the newcomer.
“Where is she?”
“Who?” Jasfoup twisted his head round like something out of The Exorcist. It gave Harold the willies.
“Amélie.” He took a step forward. “The djinn?”
“There's a djinn in the house?” Jasfoup frowned, craning his neck to take in the full kitchen. “Again?”