I rolled towards it. Rolled again and again, digging my fingers into the soft earth, twisting my body like a corkscrew. Mother Malkin had a tight grip on my ankle but that was all she had. The lower half of her body was still in the water, so despite her great strength she couldn’t stop me rolling over and twisting her through the water after me.

At last I reached the staff and thrust it hard towards the witch. But her own hand moved into the moonlight and gripped the other end.

I thought it was over then. I thought that was the end of me, but to my surprise Mother Malkin suddenly screamed very loudly. Her whole body became rigid and her eyes rolled up in her head. Then she gave a long, deep sigh and became very still.

We both lay there on the riverbank for what seemed a long time. Only my chest was rising and falling, as I gulped in air; Mother Malkin wasn’t moving at all. When, finally, she did, it wasn’t to take a breath. Very slowly, one hand let go of my ankle and the other released the staff and she slid down the bank into the river, entering the water with hardly a splash. I didn’t know what had happened but she was dead – I was sure of it.

I watched her body being carried away from the bank by the current and swirled right into the middle of the river. Still lit by the moon, her head went under. She was gone. Dead and gone.

I was so weak afterwards that I fell to my knees, and within moments I was sick – sicker than I’d ever been before. I kept heaving and heaving even when there was nothing but bile coming out of my mouth, heaving until my insides felt torn and twisted.

At last it ended and I managed to stand. Even then, it was a long time before my breathing slowed down and my body stopped trembling. I just wanted to go back to the Spook’s house. I’d done enough for one night, surely?

But I couldn’t – the child was in Lizzie’s house. That was what my instincts told me. The child was the prisoner of a witch who was capable of murder. So I had no choice. There was nobody else but me and if I didn’t help, then who would? I had to set off for Bony Lizzie’s house.

There was a storm surging in from the west, a dark jagged line of cloud that was eating into the stars. Very soon now it would begin to rain, but as I started down the hill towards the house, the moon was still out – a full moon, bigger than I ever remembered it.

It was casting my shadow before me as I went. I watched it grow, and the nearer I got to the house, the bigger it seemed to get. I had my hood up and I was carrying the Spook’s staff in my left hand, so that the shadow didn’t seem to belong to me any more. It moved on ahead of me until it fell upon Bony Lizzie’s house.

I glanced backwards then, half expecting to see the Spook standing behind me. He wasn’t there. It was just a trick of the light. So I went on until I’d passed through the open gate into the yard.

I paused before the front door to think. What if I was too late and the child was already dead? Or what if its disappearance was nothing to do with Lizzie and I was just putting myself in danger for nothing? My mind carried on thinking, but just as it had on the riverbank, my body knew what to do. Before I could stop it, my left hand rapped the staff hard against the wood three times.

For a few moments there was silence, followed by the sound of footsteps and a sudden crack of light under the door.

As the door swung slowly open, I took a step backwards. To my relief it was Alice. She was holding a lantern level with her head so that one half of her face was lit while the other was in darkness.

"What do you want?’ she asked, her voice filled with anger.

‘You know what I want,’ I replied. ‘I’ve come for the child. For the child that you’ve stolen.’

‘Don’t be a fool,’ she hissed. ‘Go away before it’s too late. They’ve gone off to meet Mother Malkin. They could be back any minute.’

Suddenly a child began to cry, a thin wail coming from somewhere inside the house. So I pushed past Alice and went inside.

There was just a single candle flickering in the narrow passageway, but the rooms themselves were in darkness. The candle was unusual. I’d never seen one made of black wax before, but I snatched it up anyway and let my ears guide me to the right room.

I eased open the door. The room was empty of furniture and the child was lying on the floor on a heap of straw and rags.

‘What’s your name?’ I asked, trying my best to smile. I leaned my staff against the wall and moved closer.

The child stopped crying and tottered to its feet, its eyes very wide. ‘Don’t worry. There’s no need to be scared,’ I said, trying to put as much reassurance into my voice as possible. ‘I’m going to take you home to your mam.’

I put the candle on the floor and picked up the child. It smelled as bad as the rest of the room and it was cold and wet. I cradled it with my right arm and wrapped my cloak about it as best I could.

Suddenly the child spoke. ‘I’m Tommy,’ it said. ‘I’m Tommy.’

‘Well, Tommy,’ I said, ‘we’ve got the same name. My name’s Tommy too. You’re safe now. You’re going home.’

With those words, I picked up my staff and went into the passageway and out through the front door. Alice was standing in the yard near the gate. The lantern had gone out, but the moon was still shining, and as I walked towards her, it threw my shadow onto the side of the barn, a giant shadow ten times bigger than I was.

I tried to pass her but she stepped directly into my path so that I was forced to halt.

‘Don’t meddle!’ she warned, her voice almost a snarl, her teeth gleaming white and sharp in the moonlight. ‘Ain’t none of your business, this.’

I was in no mood to waste time arguing with her, and when I moved directly towards her, Alice didn’t try to stop me. She stepped back out of my way and called out after me, ‘You’re a fool. Give it back before it’s too late. They’ll come after you. You’ll never get away.’

I didn’t bother to answer. I never even looked back. I went through the gate and began to climb away from the house.

It started to rain then, hard and heavy, straight into my face. It was the kind of rain that my dad used to call ‘wet rain’. All rain is wet, of course, but some kinds do seem to make a better and a faster job of soaking you than others. This was as wet as it got and I headed back towards the Spook’s house as fast as I could.

I wasn’t sure if I’d be safe even there. What if the Spook really was dead? Would the boggart still guard his house and garden?

Soon I had more immediate things to worry about. I began to sense that I was being followed. The first time I felt it, I came to a halt and listened, but there was nothing but the howling of the wind and the rain lashing into the trees and drumming onto the earth. I couldn’t see much either because it was very dark now.

So I carried on, taking even bigger strides, just hoping that I was still heading in the right direction. Once I came up against a thick, high hawthorn hedge and had to make a long detour to find a gate, all the time feeling that the danger behind was getting closer. It was just after I’d come through a small wood that I knew for certain that there was someone there. Climbing a hill, I paused for breath close to its summit. The rain had eased for a moment and I looked back down into the darkness, towards the trees. I heard the crack and snap of twigs. Someone was moving very fast through the wood towards me, not caring where they put their feet.

At the crest of the hill I looked back once more. The first flash of lightning lit up the sky and the ground below, and I saw two figures come out of the trees and begin to climb the slope. One of them was female, the other shaped like a man, big and burly.