It was a sunny, cold day, exactly like the one she'd left.

"Good afternoon," said the cat.

The house looked exactly the same from the outside. Or almost exactly the same; around Miss Spink and Miss Forcible's door were blue and red lightbulbs that flashed on and off spelling out words, the lights chasing each other around the door. On and off, around and around. ASTOUNDING! was followed by A THEATRICAL and then TRIUMPH!!!

Its voice sounded like the voice at the back of Coraline's head, the voice she thought words in, but a man's voice, not a girl's.

There was a polite noise from behind her.

"Hello," said Coraline. "I saw a cat like you in the garden at home. You must be the other cat."

She turned round. Standing on the wall next to her was a large black cat, identical to the large black cat she'd seen in the grounds at home.

The cat shook its head. "No," it said. I'm not the other anything. I'm me." It tipped its head on one side; green eyes glinted. "You people are spread all over the place. Cats, on the other hand, keep ourselves together. If you see what I mean."

"No?" said the cat.

"Cats don't talk at home."

The cat leapt smoothly from the wall to the grass, near Coraline's feet. It stared up at her.

"Come back," said Coraline. "Please. I'm sorry. I really am."

Cats don't have shoulders, not like people do. But the cat shrugged, in one smooth movement that started at the tip of its tail and ended in a raised movement of its whiskers. "I can talk."

The cat stopped walking, and sat down, and began to wash itself, thoughtfully, apparently unaware of Coraline's existence.

"Well, you're the expert on these things," said the cat drily. "After all, what would I know? I'm only a cat." It began to walk away, head and tail held high and proud.

"We could be rare specimens of an exotic breed of African dancing elephants," said the cat. "But we're not. At least," it added cattily, after darting a brief look at Coraline, "I'm not."

"We… We could be friends, you know," said Coraline.

"No," said Coraline.

"I suppose. But if you're the same cat I saw at home, how can you talk?"

Coraline sighed.

The cat yawned slowly, carefully, revealing a mouth and tongue of astounding pinkness. "Cats don't have names," it said.

"Like you did. I walked," said the cat. "Like this."

The cat glanced around briefly. "It's here," said the cat.

Half of her wanted to be very rude to it; the other half of her wanted to be polite and deferential. The polite half won. "Please, what is this place?"

"Please. What's your name?" Coraline asked the cat. "Look, I'm Coraline. Okay?"

Coraline watched as the cat walked slowly across the lawn. It walked behind a tree, but didn't come out the other side. Coraline went over to the tree and looked behind it. The cat was gone.

"I can see that. Well, how did you get here?"

"No?" said Coraline.

"No," said the cat. "Now, you people have names. That's because you don't know who you are. We know who we are, so we don't need names."

There was something irritatingly self-centred about the cat, Coraline decided. As if it were, in its opinion, the only thing in any world or place that could possibly be of any importance.

The door was open, just slightly. She knocked on it, but her first knock made the door swing open, and Coraline went in.

"That's what I said," said the cat. "And anyway --"

She walked back towards the house. There was another polite noise from behind her. It was the cat.

"By the by," it said. "It was sensible of you to bring protection. I'd hang on to it, if I were you."

She also wondered whether cats could all talk where she came from and just chose not to, or whether they could only talk when they were here -- wherever here was.

It vanished among the trees.

Coraline wondered what the cat had meant.

It paused, and stared intently at something that wasn't there.

She walked down the brick steps to the Misses Spink and Forcible's front door. The blue and red lights flashed on and off.

"Protection?"

Then it went down into a low crouch and moved slowly forward, two or three steps. It seemed to be stalking an invisible mouse. Abruptly, it turned tail and dashed for the woods.

She was in a dark room that smelled of dust and velvet. The door swung shut behind her, and the room was black. Coraline edged forward into a small anteroom. Her face brushed against something soft. It was cloth. She reached up her hand and pushed at the cloth. It parted.

"Hello," said Coraline.

She stood blinking on the other side of the velvet curtains, in a poorly lit theatre. Far away, at the edge of the room, was a high wooden stage, empty and bare, a dim spotlight shining on to it from above.

The dog put the torch down on the floor and looked up at her. "Right. Let's see your ticket," it said gruffly.

There were seats between Coraline and the stage. Rows and rows of seats. She heard a shuffling noise, and a light came towards her, swinging from side to side. When it was closer she saw the light was coming from a torch being carried in the mouth of a large black Scottie dog, its muzzle grey with age.

"Ticket?"

Coraline sighed. "I don't have a ticket," she admitted.

"That's what I said. Ticket. I haven't got all day, you know. You can't watch the show without a ticket."

The dog picked up the torch in its mouth and trotted off into the dark. Coraline followed. When it got near to the front of the stage it stopped and shone the torch on to an empty seat. Coraline sat down and the dog wandered off.

"Another one," said the dog gloomily. "Come in here, bold as anything, 'Where's your ticket?' 'Haven't got one.' I don't know É" It shook its head, then shrugged. "Come on, then."

Miss Spink was riding a one-wheeled bicycle, and juggling balls. Miss Forcible skipped on behind her, holding a basket of flowers. She scattered the flower petals across the stage as she went. They reached the front of the stage, and Miss Spink leapt nimbly off the unicycle, and the two old women bowed low.

As her eyes got used to the darkness she realised that the other inhabitants of the seats were also dogs.

There was a sudden hissing noise from behind the stage. Coraline decided it was the sound of a scratchy old record being put on to a record player. The hissing became the noise of trumpets, and Miss Spink and Forcible came on to the stage.

All the dogs thumped their tails and barked enthusiastically. Coraline clapped politely.

Then they unbuttoned their fluffy round coats and opened them. But their coats weren't all that opened: their faces opened, too, like empty shells, and out of the old empty fluffy round bodies stepped two young women. They were thin, and pale, and quite pretty, and had black-button eyes.

"This is my favourite bit," whispered the little dog in the seat next to her.

Coraline pressed back against her seat. Miss Spink left the stage, and the noise of trumpets squealed as the gramophone needle dug its way across the record and was pulled off.

Miss Forcible curtseyed, and all the dogs applauded again. Coraline didn't bother clapping this time.

The other Miss Forcible picked a knife out of a box on the corner of the stage. "Is this a dagger that I see before me?" she asked.

The new Miss Spink was wearing green tights and high brown boots that went most of the way up her legs. The new Miss Forcible wore a white dress and had flowers in her long yellow hair.

"Yes!" shouted all the little dogs. "It is!"

"And now," Miss Spink said, "Miriam and I proudly present a new and exciting addendum to our theatrical exposition. Do I see a volunteer?"

The little dog next to Coraline nudged her with its front paw. "That's you," it hissed.

Miss Spink came back on. She slapped her thigh, and all the little dogs woofed.

Miss Forcible threw the knife at the balloon. It popped loudly, and the knife stuck into the board just above Coraline's head and twanged there. Coraline breathed out.

Miss Spink walked over to Miss Forcible. She blindfolded Miss Forcible's button eyes with a black scarf and put the knife into her hands. Then she turned her round three or four times and pointed her at Coraline.

"Now," said the other Miss Spink, "stand over here." She led Coraline over to a board by the side of the stage, and put a balloon on top of Coraline's head.

"Coraline," said Coraline.

"Can I have a big round of applause for the young volunteer?" asked Miss Spink.

Coraline looked at the thin young woman with black-button eyes and shook her head, slowly.

Coraline stood up, and walked up the wooden steps to the stage.

"Now, Coraline," said Miss Spink. "What's your name?"

The dogs woofed and squealed and thumped their tails on the velvet seats.

"And we don't know each other, do we?"

Coraline held her breath and squeezed her fingers into two tight fists.

"I thought chocolates weren't very good for dogs," she said, remembering something Miss Forcible had once told her.

"Would you like one?" she asked it.

Coraline went back to her seat.

"Maybe where you come from," whispered the little dog. "Here, it's all we eat."

Misses Forcible and Spink began juggling with huge wooden clubs.

Miss Spink gave Coraline a very small box of chocolates and thanked her for being such a good sport.

Miss Forcible and Miss Spink were doing some acting. Miss Forcible was sitting on a stepladder, and Miss Spink was standing at the bottom.

"Yes, please," whispered the dog. "Only not toffee ones. They make me drool."

"You were very good," said the little dog.

"You're welcome," said Coraline.

Coraline opened the box of chocolates. The little dog looked at them longingly.

Coraline couldn't see what the chocolates were, in the dark. She took an experimental bite of one which turned out to be coconut. Coraline didn't like coconut. She gave it to the dog.

The dogs went wild.

"Thank you," said the dog.

"Thank you," said Coraline.

"I know not how to tell thee who I am," said Miss Spink to Miss Forcible.

The three of them walked back up to Coraline's other house together. Coraline's other mother stroked Coraline's hair with her long white fingers. Coraline shook her head.

Coraline gave the dog another chocolate.

"This bit finishes soon," whispered the dog. "Then they start folk dancing."

"Did you have a nice time?" asked her other mother.

"All the time," said the dog. "For ever and always."

"What's in a name?" asked Miss Forcible. "That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet."

"Have you got any more chocolates?" said the dog.

"Thank you," said the dog. Coraline stood up.

"See you soon," said the dog.

"Here," said Coraline. "Keep the chocolates."

"Bye," said Coraline. She walked out of the theatre and back into the garden. She had to blink her eyes at the daylight.

Her other parents were waiting for her in the garden, standing side by side. They were smiling.

"How long does this go on for?" asked Coraline. "The theatre?"

"It was interesting," said Coraline.

"So," said her other father. "Do you like it here?"

"Don't do that," said Coraline.

Her other mother took her hand away.

"Oh, but we want you to," said her other mother. "We want you to stay. And it's just a little thing."

"I'm glad you like it," said Coraline's other mother. "Because we'd like to think that this is your home. You can stay here for ever and always. If you want to."

"Hmm," said Coraline. She put her hands in her pockets and thought about it. Her fingertips touched the stone that the real Misses Spink and Forcible had given her the day before, the stone with the hole in it.

They went into the kitchen. On a china plate on the kitchen table were a spool of black cotton and a long silver needle and, beside them, two large black buttons.

"I don't think so," said Coraline.

"I suppose," said Coraline. "It's much more interesting than at home." They went inside.

"If you want to stay," said her other father. "There's only one little thing we'll have to do, so you can stay here for ever and always."

"I'm going now," said Coraline. She put her hands back in her pockets. Her fingers closed around the stone with the hole in.

"If that's what you want," she said.

"Yes," said Coraline.

"And then we'll all be together as one big happy family," said her other mother. "For ever and always."

Coraline knew that when grown-ups told you something wouldn't hurt it almost always did. She shook her head.

Coraline backed away. She turned and hurried into the drawing room and pulled open the door in the corner. There was no brick wall there now -- just darkness; a night-black underground darkness that seemed as if things in it might be moving.

"We'll see you soon, though," said her other father. "When you come back."

Her other mother's hand scuttled off Coraline's shoulder like a frightened spider.

"We only want what's best for you," she said. She put her hand on Coraline's shoulder. Coraline backed away.

Her other mother smiled brightly and the hair on her head drifted like plants under the sea.

"It won't hurt," said her other father.

"Um," said Coraline.

Her other mother reached out her free hand and beckoned gently with one white finger. Her pale lips mouthed, "Come back soon," although she said nothing aloud.

Coraline hesitated. She turned back. Her other mother and her other father were walking towards her, holding hands. They were looking at her with their black-button eyes. Or at least she thought they were looking at her. She couldn't be sure.

The open doorway behind her was blocked by rough red bricks. She was home.

Coraline took a deep breath and stepped into the darkness, where strange voices whispered and distant winds howled. She became certain that there was something in the dark behind her: something very old and very slow. Her heart beat so hard and so loudly she was scared it would burst out of her chest. She closed her eyes against the dark.

Eventually she bumped into something, and opened her eyes, startled. She had bumped into an armchair, in her drawing room.