Laura Garrod, Rachel Campbell, Mat Watterson, Claire Simmonds and Sasha Cox. Not forgetting the magicians that are the marketing team, Sarah Ridley and Natalia Cacciatore, or the artists who create my covers, Ceara Elliot for art direction and Jacqueline Bisset for illustrations. And the people who get the books out on time and looking fabulous, Linda Hodgson and Helen Wynn-Smith. Last but not least, brilliant Katie Sheldrake, and as always my much loved friend Charlotte Bush in publicity.

My copyeditor, Richenda Todd, who stops the clangers (there are always clangers!) and makes me look like I know what I’m writing about. So grateful!

And to Bill Hamilton, officially best agent ever, my staff and stay.

Never forgetting my family, who are now more than emotional supporters. I love you and I’m truly grateful to you.

Chapter One

Helena was not happy. She had nearly finished weaving a throw in quite a complicated pattern only to be interrupted by a knock at the door. But as she had an idea who was knocking, she didn’t feel she could ignore it. So, retying the scarf that was holding her hair back from her face, she got up from her loom, went to the door and opened it.

‘Yes?’ she said to the man standing there.

He was surprisingly large and dressed in jeans, rugby shirt and what Helena thought of as builders’ boots. He was covered in dust and was smiling ruefully, possibly to make himself seem unthreatening.

‘I’m terribly sorry to disturb you,’ he said, pushing his dusty blond hair out of his eyes, ‘but I have an animal emergency. I need someone a bit smaller than me.’ He cast his eyes rapidly up and down her. ‘And you’re a lot smaller. You’d be perfect.’ His smile was crooked and had a tinge of anxiety which made him hard to resist.

‘Would you care to elaborate?’ Helena was an animal lover but she needed some details before committing herself. He might want help with a flock of angry geese, for example, in which case she was not the best person to ask.

‘It’s a kitten. It’s my sister’s and Zuleika, the mother, is getting desperate. I’m keeping her in the house because if she gets in where her kitten is, she might well make everything a whole lot worse.’

‘Then let’s go,’ said Helena, and shut her door behind her, not worrying about locking it. Her studio had been part of a barn that was near the farmhouse, which her landlord had just moved into, and it was all part of the same property, so it wasn’t exactly far.

‘I’m so grateful,’ said the man as they set off. ‘I probably spent rather too long trying to sort it out myself but I’m just too huge.’ He stopped. ‘By the way, I’m Jago, Jago Pen—’