I wrap him in blankets and carefully slide a pillow under his ankle, which is badly swollen. It’s like I can hear him moaning, but inside my head, not out loud. ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to do magic for healing,’ I say. ‘Sylvie didn’t teach me yet.’

He smiles tightly. ‘It’s okay.’

I turn my back to him and mutter a spell to transform a plastic bag into a hot water bottle. I don’t know ‘hot water bottle’ in Welsh but the English seems to work.

‘Oh! Thanks,’ he says when I hand it to him.

The wind picks up and snow piles against the windscreen. I’m worried that the car might get buried under snow, but I don’t say anything.

Pete says, ‘If a car comes along, I’ll pay them to drive you to the village to get help and then take you back to London.’

‘Thank you,’ I say. This version of Peter Potts is kind. But I’m pretty sure he doesn’t believe a car will be coming along anytime soon.

A while later, he says, ‘Maybe you should forget about the village and concentrate on getting back to London by yourself.’

He’s right. I can either keep looking for Mum – and risk not making it back home – or I can give up on finding her and do whatever’s necessary to get back to London by the deadline. A few cold tears slide down my cheeks. It feels like a choice between finding Mum and being stuck here, or going home to Dad. How can I choose when I might lose someone I love either way?

I remember that sizzle I felt in Meredith’s kitchen when she said Llanwydir. I take a deep breath. ‘I’m going to walk to Llanwydir. I’m sure she’s there.’ Sorry, Dad.

I expect Pete to protest, but he sighs. ‘If you can move between universes, I guess you can walk through the snow to a village.’ He hands me a small white torch. ‘Stay on the road,’ he says. ‘Be careful. And if you need to catch a cab back to London, or a train, use this.’ With his good hand, he passes me a thick wad of notes. ‘Put it somewhere safe.’

‘Thanks, Pete.’ I slip the money into the inside pocket of Meredith’s coat, along with my Welsh dictionary, which I find wedged near the gearstick. ‘I’m sorry I got you into this mess,’ I say. ‘I’ll send help as soon as I can.’ I crawl back outside and start walking.

CHAPTER 21

It’s slow going in Meredith’s slightly too large boots and as the road climbs, the snow gets deeper until I’m sinking to my knees with each step.