“But what have you seen?” says Violet, breaking off a piece of battered fish. “In the shadows. What is this thing supposed to be?”

But before Seegol can answer, there’s a loud creak and a rush of cold air as the door of the diner swings opens. A tall, dismal figure stands there. He has a lank, bone-yellow beard and a long black sailor’s coat, dripping with water. I slide low in my seat and lean on my hand, hiding my face. Violet sees me, looks over at the newcomer and shrinks back into her hair.

“Boathook Man!”

“What are we going to do?”

The trinkets and other objects from my pocket are still on the table. I push the gold earring over towards Seegol again and hope that the expression on my face speaks clearly enough.

Seegol looks from me to Violet. He ignores the earring and gets to his feet.

“It is good to see you again, sir,” Seegol calls over to the Boathook Man. “Please, have this seat, with the best sea view.”

And with that, he steers the awful man away from us and over to the opposite side of the diner. He won’t be able to see us from there.

“Good old Seegol,” I whisper, gathering up my things. “But we should go.”

“No, let’s wait,” says Violet, popping another chip in her mouth. “This might be our best chance to find out just who Boathook Man really is. Maybe he’s meeting someone here.”

It’s a good plan. And perhaps it would have worked. But just then something happens that changes everything.

Outside, where the sea mist is gathering, someone screams.

THE SIGHTING

BOATHOOK MAN IS THE FIRST TO HIS FEET, standing so abruptly that his table crashes over. Then he crosses the diner, flings the door open and lumbers out.

The scream comes again.

“Come on!” Violet cries, pulling me out of my chair.

Everyone else gets up too, and we’re able to hide in the small crowd that rushes out onto the deck of the pier to see what’s happened. We lean over the side, our eyes straining in the swirling mist.

“What’s that?” someone shouts. “Look, there!”

Down below, where the beach is barely visible, a human shape moves into view, stumbling out of the mist.

Boathook Man lets out a strange sound, like the moan of a distant wind, and turns, heading straight for the hidden spiral staircase down to the beach. As he goes, he lets his right arm drop by his side, his long, hooked spike dangling like a weapon.

“What’s he going to do?” Violet whispers in my ear, but I don’t know, do I? I look back down at the figure below, and the figure looks up. I recognize the face immediately.

“Mrs Fossil!” I shout, waving. “Helloooo! What happened?”