A thin, old woman appears in the doorway. Thelma. I’m swamped with relief. She’s nothing like the glamorous cat-suited Thelma I remember; she’s in spotty yellow pyjamas and her face is pale and drawn, but her eyes sparkle. I stand up and she looks straight at me. ‘Who are you?’ she says.

Dad steps towards Thelma and gives what looks awfully like a bow. ‘I’m Dave and this is Tulsi, your great-niece. You’ve met Tulsi before.’

‘Have I?’ She smiles weakly at Janet, who hurries over and takes her arm.

Dad says, ‘Thelma, we need your help to –’

Janet interrupts him. ‘I said no!’ She steers Thelma down the hallway and glances back at us. ‘We can’t help you, I’m afraid. Please let yourselves out.’

‘Noooo, Thelma, wait!’ I wail, desperate and loud.

Thelma turns to look at me. Our eyes meet for a long moment, then she shuffles back and takes my hand. Her skin is papery and cool, and she smells like gum leaves and river water. She gives a warm chuckle. ‘Ah yes, you have it, don’t you?’

She’s talking about the gift. ‘Yes. Listen, Mum has disappeared herself,’ I say before Janet can bustle her away again. ‘We need your help to bring her back.’ I can’t stop the big, hiccupping, snotty sobs that have been building up all day. ‘Please help us. Plee-ee-ease.’

‘Let me see …’ says Thelma, and closes her eyes. Will she bring Mum back right now?

Janet sighs loudly and glares at us.

After a minute, Thelma’s eyes flutter open and she gives me a shaky smile. ‘I’m pretty sure Merry’s there.’ She pauses. ‘Actually, I can’t remember how we get her back … but I think she has twenty-four hours to return.’ She looks around, flustered. ‘I don’t seem to have my Book. I don’t know what happened to it. I haven’t been able to do magic since I got sick last year.’ Thelma looks like she might cry. ‘I’m sorry, little girl, but I can’t bring Merry back.’

My heart gives an agonising clench and beside me, Dad moans.

I want to fall to the floor and cry. I want to beg Thelma to remember.

I just want my mum.

If only Mum’s other aunt, Lola, hadn’t died a couple of years ago. She had the gift too. There was Thelma, Lola and … Mum’s mum.

I grab Dad’s arm. ‘Do you know where my grandmother is?’

‘Sylvie?’ says Janet. ‘She’s far away, thank goodness.’

Dad shakes his head. ‘I have no idea where she is. Anyway, she’s not a magician anymore. She wouldn’t be able to help us.’

‘She might know what to do, though,’ I say.

Thelma pats her daughter’s arm. ‘But Sylvie’s around. She contacted me, darling.’

Hope flickers in my chest. ‘Where is she?!’