We manage to climb up to join Erwin, then all three of us slide down the other side. Without warning, Erwin hops over the edge. Looking over, we are relieved to see the cat standing on a metal balcony just below. And connected to this is an old fire escape.

We reach the bottom of the rusty metal steps and I’m surprised no one has called out, or challenged us during our descent. Even when we scramble over a garden wall and drop into a neighbouring street in front of a startled old man walking a snarly dog, no one shouts. Violet scoops up Erwin and we hurry away, trying to act as normal as possible, even though my heart is rattling round my ribcage like a rubber ball and my legs feel like squids.

“Will we be safe,” Vi gasps, “in the hotel?”

“Dunno,” I say. “But where else can we go?”

We stop to get our breath back.

“I think the place I most want to go right now,” says Violet after a moment, “is Jenny Hanniver’s bookshop.”

I nod. “We should take Erwin back anyway.”

“Thank you, puss,” says Vi, giving him a quick kiss on the head as we hurry away. “I hope you didn’t get hurt.”

Erwin closes his eyes and purrs.

When we reach the Eerie Book Dispensary, I’m surprised to find it’s closed and all dark inside.

I rattle the door handle uselessly, before slumping down on the doorstep. Stupidly, I’m still clutching the harpoon.

Violet sits down beside me. “Did you see…?” she says. “Boathook Man! Did he really…?”

I nod.

“Like a ghost,” Violet continues. “He came out of the tap like a ghost. I didn’t think such things were possible.”

I shrug.

“If the impossible is possible anywhere, it’ll be possible in Eerie-on-Sea.”

Hey, that’s quite good, that is. I should say it more often. Then I realize that it wasn’t actually me who said it at all. And it wasn’t Violet.

We both look at Erwin.

The cat narrows his blue eyes at us and emits a smug purr.

“You heard him that time, right?” says Vi to me. “Herbie, please tell me you just heard Erwin say those words.”

“I heard him,” I say. Then I turn back to the cat. “Oi, fleabag. You’re talking to everyone now, are you?”

Cats don’t have eyebrows, but Erwin manages to raise one at me anyway.

“OK, OK, I’m sorry,” I say. “‘Fleabag’ isn’t fair. Not after you saved me from Boathook Man. But I thought you only spoke to me. I thought we agreed years ago you’d keep it secret.”

Erwin half lowers his eyelids at me and, in a bored human voice, says, “Me-ow.”

But the look on his face is all, Oh no Herbie Lemon, I didn’t agree to any such thing.