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glumly. ‘Mine has Mickey Mouse on it. Not a problem.’
    ‘Cheer up,’ said Jack, rubbing his balloon enthusiastically on his sleeve. ‘It’s time for a practical demonstration. I tell you there’s a building field of static electricity around Cardiff, and what do you do?’ He let go of his balloon. It started to drift up. ‘You laugh.’
    The balloon reached three metres above their heads. And exploded.
    ‘Not funny any more is it?’ said Jack.
    ‘Bloody hell,’ said Gwen. ‘Surely that’s—’ ‘Oh, pretty much impossible, yup,’ said Jack. ‘But there’s an energy current flowing around Cardiff. It’s been building up gently for two months. It spikes on Sunday night. Same night something strange happens to the ferry. And now little things are changing. Surge in static electricity, elevated levels of background radiation. Skeletons in bars. Ianto. Anything else?’
    ‘Hmm,’ said Gwen. ‘Rhys and I have been sleeping really badly all week. Is that part of it?’
    Jack nodded, excited. ‘Me too! And hey, I don’t sleep. Plus, I’m getting spots. And that never happens. Something’s wrong with the atmosphere. So, spots, energy cloud and terrible sleep patterns. Anything else?’
    Gwen let her balloon go. It floated away into the sky. ‘I didn’t charge it,’ she said. ‘Just checking.’
    ‘Ah, an inquiring mind,’ beamed Jack. ‘Ianto, you want a go?’ Ianto gazed forlornly at his balloon. ‘I don’t want Mickey Mouse to die,’ he said.
    Jack patted him on the shoulder. ‘It’s OK,’ he said. ‘He doesn’t have to. I just didn’t want you not to have a balloon. Let’s go and look at something else. It’s extraordinary.’
    They stood in the car park. Jack was grinning. ‘Touch a car. Any car.’
    Gwen picked a BMW. She’d never liked them. Jack nodded at her, approvingly. It was black, and shiny, and very new, quite expensive and – she touched it. There was the tiniest static shock. The car crumbled away.
    ‘Oh,’ said Ianto.
    They looked aghast at the pile of BMW dust blowing away in the breeze.
    ‘Quite,’ said Jack. ‘Just like those skeletons. Now, Tosh,’ he said, tapping away at his wrist pad, as a couple of elementary maps popped up, ‘Tosh would have loved this. I’ve managed to track the energy cloud. It built up between 2am and 3am, concentrating on this car park in Bute Park. Curious, huh?’
    ‘CCTV?’ asked Ianto.
    Jack shook his head. ‘The cameras are powder.’
    Gwen chuckled. ‘Well, there’ll be witnesses. Bute car park? Dogging central! Some couple making out will have seen something happen.’
    ‘Ah,’ said Jack, shaking his head indicating several more cars marked off with Police Incident tape. ‘That’s why I brought you balloons. Something nice first.’
    Sadly, they headed over to the cars.

EMMA WEBSTER IS WITH HER
PERFECT MAN
    The doorbell rang, and Emma tried not to let her heart sink. She threw open the door, and there was Joe – tall, tanned and lithe in a very expensive suit and a nice, crisp shirt. He smelled of vanilla and sandalwood, he was clean-shaven and, as he smiled, neat teeth gleaming.
    She grinned, despite herself, and let him kiss her. ‘You make me feel so good,’ he breathed in her ear. ‘I’ve booked us a table,’ he said. ‘In your favourite restaurant.’
    ‘In our favourite restaurant,’ she said, with a note of challenge.
    ‘Of course,’ he said, squeezing her tighter. ‘Our favourite restaurant.’
    She looked round the flat, almost desperately, until she caught a glimpse of their reflections in the mirror. They made, she had to admit, quite the perfect couple. They both looked stunning and successful, and the kind of people that others were just the tiniest bit jealous of.
    She knew that when she met Joe’s friends they would love her. Of course, she’d make them love her. But she liked to think that they would love her anyway.
    They walked down the stairs to the taxi, Joe wrapping a protective