She pulls out her book. “I can finish reading this at the same time.”

“I admit, it’s a good view,” I say, looking out of the hatchway at the gleaming expanse of sand. “You can even see the Leviathan from here.”

“The what?”

“Over on the horizon, where the waves are now. Do you see it?”

Violet leans out. “I can see something dark and jagged. And massive. What is it?”

“It’s all that’s left of the battleship Leviathan,” I tell her. “It was wrecked years ago. You can walk out to it when the tide is at its lowest, though it’s pretty dangerous. And some say…”

I trail off.

“What?” says Violet, but all I can do is point.

I hear Violet gasp. “Boathook Man!”

It’s true. And he’s not over by the pier or stalking across the horizon by the wreck. He’s right below us, shuffling zombie-like between two of the sheds, his head swinging from side to side as if he’s looking for something.

“Get in,” I whisper, pulling Violet back inside the shadow.

“What’s he doing here?” she whispers back. “Was he following us?”

I say a bad word. Not a really bad word, but bad enough. After everything that’s happened, we should have been more careful.

We creep foward again and crouch in the shadow of the hatchway to watch. Boathook Man stops, and cocks his head as if listening. We go completely still. He cocks his head the other way.

And then he looks down.

Down at the wet sand where two sets of footprints are clearly visible. Footprints that lead straight to the door of the shed we are hiding in.

Boathook Man looks up, and we dart back again.

“Oh, bladderwracks!” I say. “He saw us. He’s coming up!”

And sure enough, the ladder that is bolted to the inside of the shed – which rises up the entire four storeys – starts shaking violently.

“Which means we can’t go down,” says Violet. “So…”

She runs to the hatchway and grabs a rope that is attached to a small pulley outside. For a moment, I think Violet is going to abseil down, which would be nuts as the rope is nowhere near long enough. But I’m wrong. Instead, while I’m standing there like a lemon, clutching my cap, Violet swings out into mid-air!

The ancient building creaks and cracks under the strain.

Violet lets go of the rope at just the right moment and grabs the hanging net – the one spread between two of the sheds. The net sags under her weight and the building complains again, but Violet gains her balance and is now safely outside. The rope swings back towards me.

“Quick, Herbie. Jump!”