‘This evening. What about tomorrow, and the day after that? Never mind you took Nesbit. I thought someone had stolen him.’ I kept my voice gentle as it was clear that the reality of what she’d done was starting to sink in.

Covering her face with both hands, she dissolved into hoarse sobs, only pausing to wail, ‘I want my Mum!’

‘Come on then, let’s get you home. Grab what you need for tonight; we can fetch the rest in the morning.’

By the time Joan re-emerged from the tent with her rucksack, it was clear that getting her home was not going to be that simple. I’d twisted my ankle quite badly, and even if I’d been strong enough to hobble a few steps, there was no way it would bear my weight all the way back. Neither Irene nor I had any signal on our phones, which was common in the forest hollows, and we had no idea how close we were to a main path, or anything else.

‘I’ll retrace our steps until my phone picks up reception again, then let people know Joan is safe but we need help.’ Irene looked at Joan thoughtfully. ‘I don’t know if it’s best for you to come with me, or stay in the tent so at least you’re warm and dry.’

‘I’m staying with Ollie.’ Joan grabbed my arm with both hands. ‘And Nesbit. We can’t leave her here unable to walk! What if the Beast of Bigley finds her?’

‘It might be best for her to wait with me. For all we know there’s a main road on the other side of that hill, and she can get a lift back in a car rather than trekking for miles in the wet.’ I looked at Irene, soaked to the skin and shivering with fatigue as much as the cold. I didn’t add what I was thinking, that she could easily end up trailing around in circles out here; it was so difficult to maintain any sense of direction in the dark.

‘Are you sure about going?’ I asked, not sure how I wanted her to answer. ‘You could stay with us in the tent until it’s light, then make much faster progress.’

‘And leave that poor girl’s mother out of her mind with worry?’ Irene shook her head determinedly. ‘No. It’s time for the Library Lady to have a real-life adventure. You two stay safe, and I’ll see you soon.’

‘Who’d have thought that Irene Jenkins would turn out to be a hero?’ Joan asked, as we watched her disappear into the night.

‘Honestly, not many heroes wear capes or have huge muscles,’ I replied. ‘Most are ordinary people who simply have the courage to do the right thing when it needs to be done.’