“His grandma burst into his mum's hospital room ahead of him with a terrible question on her face. But there was a nurse inside who answered immediately. "It's okay," she said. "You're in time.”

“Are you being a good boy for your mum?” Conor’s grandma pinched Conor’s cheeks so hard he swore she was going to draw blood.“He’s been very good, Ma,” Conor’s mother said, winking at him from behind his grandma, her favorite blue scarf tied around her head. “So there’s no need to inflict quite so much pain.”

“You are the one who called me, Conor O’Malley, it said, looking at him seriously. You are the one with the answers to these questions.”

“Conor's grandma wasn't like other grandmas. He'd met Lily's grandma loads of times, and she was how grandmas were supposed to be: crinkly and smiley, with white hair and the whole lot. She cooked meals where she made three separate eternally boiled vegetable portions for everybody and would giggle in the corner at Christmas with a small glass of sherry and a paper crown on her head.Conor's grandma wore tailored trouser suits, dyed her hair to keep out the grey, and said things that made no sense at all, like "Sixty is the new fifty" or "Classic cars need the most expensive polish." What did that even mean? She emailed birthday cards, would argue with waiters over wine, and still had a job. Her house was even worse, filled with expensive old things you could never touch, like a clock she wouldn't even let the cleaning lady dust. Which was another thing. What kind of grandma had a cleaning lady?”

“You be as angry as you need to be," she said. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Not your grandma, not your dad, no one. And if you need to break things, then by God, you break them good and hard."He couldn't look at her. He just couldn't."And if, one day," she said, really crying now, "you look back and you feel bad for being so angry, if you feel bad for being so angry at me that you couldn't even speak to me, then you have to know, Conor, you have to know that it was okay. It was okay. That I knew. I know, okay? I know everything you need to tell me without you having to say it out loud. All right?" He still couldn't look at her. He couldn't raise his head, it felt so heavy. He was bent in two, like he was being torn right down through his middle.But he nodded.”

“His grandma wouldn’t be here when his father arrived. Which suited everyone.”

“There was once an invisible man, the monster continued, though Conor kept his eyes firmly on Harry, who had grown tired of being unseen.Conor set himself into a walk.A walk after Harry.It was not that he was actually invisible, the monster said, following Conor, the room volume dropping as they passed. It was that the people had become used to not seeing him."Hey!" Conor called. Harry didn't turn around. Neither did Sully nor Anton, though thet were still sniggering as Conor picked up his pace.And if no one sees you, the monster said, picking up its pace, too, are you really there at all?"HEY!" Conor called loudly.The dining hall had fallen silent now, as Conor and the monster moved faster after Harry.Harry who had still not turned around.Conor reached him and grabbed him by the shoulder, twisting him round. Harry pretended to question what had happened, looking hard at Sully, acting like he was the one who'd done it. "Quit messing about," Harry said and turned away again.Turned away from Conor.And then one day the invisible man decided, the monster said, its voice ringing in Conor's ears, I will make them see me."How?" Conor asked, breathing heavily again, not turning back to see the monster standing there, not looking at the reaction of the room to the huge monster now in the midst, though he was aware of nervous murmurs and a strange anticipation in the air. "How did the man do it?"Conor could feel the monster close behind him, knew that it was kneeling, knew that it was putting its face up to his ear to whisper into in, to tell him the rest of the story.He called, it said for a monster.”