'I can't stay longer than noon. I've another one to do this afternoon!' she snapped, but then she told me to get a clean bed sheet and rip it into seven pieces, and to bring her a bowl of cold water.

    After I'd done what she asked, she took a strip of the sheet, folded it until it was no bigger than the palm of her hand and dipped it into the water. Then she used it to bathe the Spook's forehead and chin. It was hard to tell whether she'd done that to make him feel better or to save herself a bit of time washing the body later.

    That done, she sat down beside the bed and started knitting what looked like baby clothes. She talked a lot too, telling me the story of her life and boasting about her two jobs. As well as washing the dead and preparing them for burial, she was also the local midwife. She had a bad cold and kept coughing all over the Spook and blowing her red nose into a large, mottled handkerchief.

    Just before noon she started to pack her things ready to go. 'I'll be back in the morning to lay him out,' she said. 'He won't survive a second night.'

    Ts there no hope at all?' I asked her, aware that the Spook hadn't opened his eyes since banging his head.

    'Listen to him breathing,' she told me.

    I listened carefully. His breathing sounded harsh, with a faint rattle to it. It was as if his windpipe were constricted.

    'That's a death-rattle' she said. 'His time in this world is coming to an end.'

    At that moment there was a knock on the front door and I went down to see who it was. When I opened the door, Alice was standing close to the step, her woollen coat buttoned up to the neck and her hood pulled forward.

    'Alice!' I said, really glad to see her. 'The Spook got hurt dealing with the boggart. He bashed the back of his head and the doctor thinks he's going to die!'

    'Let me look at him' Alice said, pushing past me. 'Maybe it ain't as bad as he thinks. Doctors can be wrong. Is he upstairs?'

    I nodded and followed Alice up to the front bedroom. She went straight across to the Spook and put her hand on his forehead. Then she lifted his left eyelid with her thumb and peered at his eye very closely.

    'Ain't hopeless' Alice said. T might just be able to help...'

    The woman picked up her bag and prepared to leave, indignation furrowing her brow. 'Well, I've seen it all now!' she exclaimed, staring down at Alice's pointy shoes. 'A little witch offering help to a spook!'

    Alice looked up, her eyes blazing with anger, opened her mouth wide and showed her teeth. Then she hissed at the woman, who took two rapid steps away from the bed.

    'Don't expect him to thank you for it!' she warned Alice, backing out of the bedroom door before running down the stairs.

    'Ain't got much with me' Alice said when the woman had gone. She unbuttoned her coat and pulled a small leather pouch from her inside pocket. It was fastened with string and she untied it and shook a few dried leaves onto her palm. 'I'll make him up a quick potion for now' she said.

    When she'd gone down to the kitchen, I sat at the Spook's bedside, doing what I could to help him. His whole body was burning up and I kept mopping his brow with the wet cloth to try and bring the fever down. There was a constant trickle of blood and mucus from his nose and it kept running down into his moustache, so it was a full-time job just keeping him clean. All the time his chest was rattling and the smell of flowers was as strong as ever, so I began to feel that, whatever Alice said, the nurse was right and he hadn't long to go.

    After a while Alice came back upstairs carrying a cup half full of a pale yellow liquid, and I lifted the Spook's head while she poured a little of it into his mouth. I wished Mam were here but I knew that Alice was the next best thing: as Mam had once told me, she knew her stuff regarding potions.

    The Spook choked and spluttered a bit but we managed to get most of it down him. 'If s a really bad time of year but I might be able to find something better,' Alice said. 'If s worth going out to look. Not that he deserves it, the way he's treated me!'

    I thanked Alice and saw her to the front door. It wasn't raining any more but there was a chill in the damp air. The trees were bare and everything looked bleak. 'It's winter, Alice. What can you find when hardly anything is growing?'

    'Even in winter there are roots and bark you can use' Alice replied, buttoning up her coat against the cold. 'That's if you know where to look. I'll be back as soon as I can ...'

    I went back up to the bedroom to sit with the Spook, sad and lost. I know it sounds selfish but I couldn't help starting to worry about myself. I couldn't possibly manage to complete my apprenticeship without the Spook. I'd have to go north of Caster to where Arkwright practised his trade and ask him to take me on. As he'd once been the Spook's apprentice and had lived at Chipenden like me, perhaps he'd do it, but there was no guarantee. He might already have an apprentice. After thinking that, I felt worse. Really guilty. Because I'd just been thinking about myself, not my master.

    Then, after about an hour, the Spook suddenly opened his eyes. They were wild and bright with fever, and to begin with I don't think he knew who I was. He still remembered how to give orders though, and began shouting them out at the top of his voice as if he thought I was deaf or something.

    'Help me up! Get me up! Up! Up! Do it now!' he shouted, as I struggled to help him up into a sitting position and pack the pillows behind his back. He began to groan very loudly, and his eyes rolled in his head and went right up into his skull until only the whites were visible.

    'Get me a drink!' he shouted. T need a drink!'

    There was a jug of cold water on the bedside table and I filled a cup half full and held it gently to his lips.

    'Sip it slowly,' I advised, but the Spook took a big gulp and spat it out onto the bedclothes.

    'What's this rubbish? Is this all I deserve?' he roared, his pupils coming back into view to fix me with a wild, angry stare. 'Bring me wine. And make it red. That's what I need!'

    I didn't think it was a good idea at all, what with him being so ill, but he insisted again. He wanted wine and it had to be red.

    'I'm sorry but there is no wine,' I explained, keeping my voice calm so as not to get him even more agitated.

    'Of course there's no wine herel This is a bedroom!' he shouted. 'Down in the kitchen, that's where you'll find it. If not, try the cellar. Go and look. And be quick about it. Don't keep me waiting.'

    There were about half a dozen bottles of wine in the kitchen and all of them were red. The trouble was, there was no sign of a corkscrew - not that I looked too hard. So I took the bottle back up to the bedroom, thinking that would be the end of it.

    I was wrong: as soon as I came near the bed, my master snatched the bottle from me, put it to his mouth and pulled the cork out with his remaining teeth. For a moment I thought he'd swallowed it, but suddenly he spat it out with such force that the cork bounced off the bedroom wall opposite.

    Then he began to drink and, as he drank, he talked. I'd never seen the Spook drink alcohol before, but now he couldn't get the stuff down his throat fast enough. He became more and more excited, the talk giving way to ranting. It didn't make much sense because he was raving with the fever and the drink. A lot of it was in Latin too, the language I was still struggling to learn. At one point he kept making the sign of the cross with his right hand, the way priests do.

    Back at our farm, wine was something we drank rarely. Mam makes her own elderberry wine and it's really good. It only comes out on special occasions though: when I lived at home, I was lucky to be given half a small glass twice a year. The Spook finished off a whole bottle in less than fifteen minutes and later he was sick - so sick that he nearly choked to death there and then. Of course, I had to clean up the mess using the other strips of sheet.