I ran to the doors first, just in case, but they were both locked. After looking in the parlour, I went upstairs. I expected to find her in her room, but after knocking and receiving no reply, I tried the door. The room was empty.

    The further upstairs I went, the worse I began to feel. When the attic was empty too, I started to panic. But then I took a deep breath. 'Think!' I told myself. Where else could Meg be?

    There was only one other place and that was on the steps that led down to the cellar. It didn't seem likely because the Spook had told me even the thought of the steps made her nervous. First I checked in his study, standing on the stool to search the top of the bookcase. There was no way she could have got the key without me noticing but I confirmed that anyway. It was still there. With a sigh of relief, I lit a candle and went down the steps.

    I heard the gate long before I reached it. It kept clanging loudly, sending that din reverberating right up through the house. If it hadn't been for the fact that I expected to find Meg there, I would have assumed something had come up from the cellar and was trying to get out.

    But it was Meg all right. She was gripping the bars tightly and tears were streaming down her face. By the light of the candle I saw her shake the gate. From the force she put into it, I could tell that she was still very strong.

    'Come on, Meg,' I said gently, 'let's go back upstairs. It's cold and draughty down here. If you're not careful, you'll catch a chill.'

    'But there's someone down there, Billy. Someone down there who needs help.'

    'There's nobody down there,' I told her, aware that I was lying. Her sister Marcia, the feral lamia, was down there, trapped in her pit. Was Meg starting to remember?

    'But I'm sure there is, Billy. I can't remember her name but she's down there and she needs me. Please open the gate and help me. Let me go down and look. Why don't you come with me and bring your candle?'

    'I can't, Meg. You see, I don't have the key to open the gate. Come on, please. Just come back up to the kitchen...'

    'Will John know where the key is?' Meg asked. 'Probably. Why don't we ask him when he gets back?'

    'Yes, Billy, that's a good idea. We'll do that!'

    Meg smiled at me through her tears and walked back up the steps. I led her into the kitchen and sat her down in her rocking chair by the fire.

    'You sit here and warm yourself, Meg. I'll go and make you another cup of herb tea. You'll need it after being down those cold damp stairs ...'

    Meg had already drunk her usual dose for the day and I didn't want to risk making her ill, so I just put a very small amount in her cup and added hot water.

    She thanked me and soon gulped it down. By the time the Spook returned she was already asleep.

    When I told him what had happened, he shook his head. T don't like the sound of this, lad! From now on her morning dose needs to be three quarters of an inch in the bottom of a cup. I don't want to do it but we've no choice.'

    He looked really down in the mouth. I'd rarely seen him look so dejected. But I soon found out that it wasn't just because of Meg.

    'I've had some bad news, lad,' he told me, sinking wearily into a chair by the kitchen fire. 'Emily Burns has passed away. She's been cold in her grave for over a month.'

    I didn't know what to say. Long years had passed since he'd been with Emily. Since then Meg had been the woman in his life. Why should he be so sad?

    'I'm sorry' I said lamely.

    'But not half as sorry as me, lad' the Spook said gruffly. 'She was a good woman, Emily. She had a hard life but always did her best. The world will be a poorer place now that she's gone! When the good die, it sometimes unshackles evil which would otherwise have been kept in check!'

    I was going to ask him what he meant by those mysterious words, but at that point Meg started to stir and opened her eyes so we lapsed into silence and he didn't mention Emily again.

    At breakfast on the eighth morning after we'd arrived, the Spook pushed back his plate, complimented Meg on her cooking and then turned to me.

    'Well, lad, I think it's about time you went to see how the girl's coping. Think you can find your way?'

    I nodded, trying not to grin too widely, and within ten minutes I was striding down the clough to emerge onto the hillside with the open sky above. I headed north of Adlington, towards Moor View Farm, where Alice was staying.

    When the Spook had decided to travel to his winter house, I'd assumed that the weather would break soon afterwards, and indeed it had been getting steadily colder. But today things seemed to have changed for the better. Although it was a cold, frosty morning, the sun was shining, the air was clear and I could see for miles. It was the kind of morning when it feels good to be alive.

    Alice must have seen me approaching down the hill because she came out of the farmyard and walked up to meet me. There was a small wood just outside the boundary of the farm and she waited there in the shadow of the trees. She looked really gloomy, so I knew, even before we spoke, that she wasn't happy in her new home.

    'It ain't fair, Tom. Old Gregory couldn't have found me a worse place to stay! Ain't much fun staying with the Hursts.'

    Ts it really that bad, Alice?' I asked.

    'Be better off at Pendle, and that's saying something.'

    Pendle was where most of Alice's family of witches lived. She hated it there because they treated her badly.

    'Are they cruel to you, Alice?' I asked, becoming alarmed.

    Alice shook her head. 'Ain't laid a hand on me yet. But they don't talk to me much either. And it didn't take me long to work out why they're so quiet and unhappy. It's that son of theirs - the one called Morgan, who Old Gregory asked about. Cruel and mean, he is. A really nasty piece of work. What kind of son would hit his own father and shout at his mother till she cries? He don't even call 'em Mam and Dad. 'Old Man' and 'Old Woman' is the best they get from him. Scared of him, they are, and they lied to Old Gregory because Morgan visits a lot. Dread his visits, they do. Nothing to do with me, but I can't stand much more of it. If need be, one way or another, I'll sort him out.'

    'Don't do anything yet,' I told her. 'Let me talk to the Spook first.'

    'Don't think he'll exactly be rushing to help. Reckon Old Gregory's done it on purpose. That son of theirs is one of his own kind. Wears a cloak and hood and carries a staff too! Probably asked him to keep an eye on me.'

    'Well, he's not a spook, Alice.' 'What else could he be?'

    'He's one of the Spook's failed apprentices and they don't get on. Remember the last night at Chipenden when I brought that letter and the Spook got really angry? Didn't get a chance to tell you, but that letter was from Morgan. He's been threatening the Spook. He said my master's got something that belongs to him.'

    'Well, he's a nasty piece of work all right,' continued Alice. 'Don't only visit the house. Some nights he walks down the hill and goes to the lake. Watched him last night. He stands right on the edge of the shore and stares at the water. Sometimes his mouth moves like he's talking to someone. His sister drowned in the lake, didn't she? Reckon he's talking to her ghost. Wouldn't be surprised if he drowned her!'

    'And he hits his dad?' I asked. That had shocked me more than anything. It made me think of my own dad, and a lump came to my throat at the memory. How could anyone raise a fist to their own dad?

    Alice nodded. 'They've rowed twice since I've been here. Big rows. First time, old Mr Hurst tried to push him out of the house and they struggled. Morgan's much younger and stronger and you can guess who came off worst. Second time he dragged his dad upstairs and locked him in his room. The old man started crying. I didn't like that. It made me remember what it was like living with my own family back in Pendle. Maybe if you tell Old Gregory how bad it is, he'll let me come and stay with you.'