My body shook all over. My knees wobbled and my heart throbbed, but I kept moving. I didn’t look back even though she still called to me, her voice echoing through the wood like a howling spirit, tempting me to return.

But I wouldn’t go back and help her out of the hole. I needed to move on. I needed to get back to the garden and help Olivia.

I paused to catch my breath and leaned against an upturned tree. Mother’s voice stopped abruptly. I exhaled with relief then sucked in a breath; was she dead? Visions flitted through my mind. Had an animal jumped into the hole? Was it tearing her to pieces? Was it eating her alive? Patrick had said there weren’t wolves in England any more, but there were bound to be other creatures stalking the woods. Creatures turned mad by hunger. Creatures starving enough to feast on a helpless human being.

I tried to swallow and saliva stuck on my tongue. It was like I’d forgotten how to swallow. Panic bit and I tried to relax my mouth. I tried again and this time it worked and saliva slithered down my throat.

I looked back and strained my ears for her voice, but the trees were thick with silence. Dusk melted them into each other, creating a ghostly army dressed in grey. I swallowed with difficulty. Imagined a badger tearing a chunk of flesh out of Mother’s hand – a hand that had stroked my head when I was poorly. A hand that had kept me clean and fed for years.

I bowed my head as memory after memory of me and Mother swept through my mind. She was crazy, yes, but for years she had taken care of me. For years she had been my mother.

I didn’t want to face her again, but I couldn’t let her die down there. Not like that. I knew I’d never forgive myself.

I pushed myself off the tree and looked back the way I’d come. Though pale grey, there was still enough light to see the way. I scanned the ground and spotted a large branch. Whether it was big enough to fend off an animal, I didn’t know, but it was better than a nail.

Knowing speed was important, I ran back through the trees, eyes darting up and down, heart frantic. I couldn’t believe I was going back to help her, but I knew I had to. I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t. And I couldn’t let myself become like her. She hadn’t helped Olivia because Olivia had been horrible to her, but she should have helped her when she was at her weakest. If she’d helped her, everything might have turned out differently.