Ari has broken her phone again, and Mum’s not replacing it this time. It’s Ari’s worst nightmare. No phone, no life. Her few friends don’t visit, not even Beth, hilarious queen of the bitches. Mum finds her a job. Ten doors down the street: The Mad House. Crazy Crossman lives there, a bristly and reclusive woman. She’s violent towards kids, they say. There’s strange noises at all hours of the day, they say.

It starts as bad as Ari expects - Crossman cannot stand the youth and has just about a million rules - and gets worse. The job is a messy, splattery clean-up in one part of the house - it’s a disgusting mix of what looks like thick, multi-coloured paint and plasticine innards. Each day this mess is in another room, and Ari’s curiosity skyrockets. It’s like the aftermath of a mad fight between strange creatures from some Other Place. But that’s crazy. There are no Other Places, and Miss Crossman is just some stiff old lady with odd thoughts about how to live.

A confrontation with Mr. Ribbles, the curtain-twitcher from across the street, leads to Crossman defending Ari and bringing her inside. They very nearly start bonding over tea and biscuits, but when Ari is left to let herself out, she hears the noise upstairs. She gets a snapshot-glimpse of Crossman’s bedroom before the door slams shut. She sees the impossible. No opposite wall, only a sweeping hill under impossibly blue skies. Another world.

Ari vows never to return to the Mad House…

This is a story of friendship across generations, of a lone woman’s unknown power and sacrifice, and of responsibility without recognition. How far would you go to protect those who don’t even care that you exist?