I’m so keen to see Win that I run ahead of Rose, shouting out, “Win, we’re back!” As I dash across the rock outside his cave, something pulls tight across my legs, knocking me to my knees. Too late I realize I’ve run into a trip wire. I look up and see a bucket tip upside down. A single apple rolls out of the bucket and bounces off my head.

There is a cry from the cave and Win shoots out on a rusty bike. He does a wheelie through the embers of his fire, jumps off the bike, and tackles me to the ground. “AAAARRGHH!” he screams.

“Win, it’s me, Arthur,” I say, gasping, as he squeezes me tighter and tighter. “Stop fighting me!”

“I’m not fighting you: I’m hugging you. I really missed you, mate!”

After a final rib-crushing squeeze he jumps to his feet and throws his arms around Rose. She disappears inside his cloak. “Rose Trout, Master of Roar!” he says. “I thought you’d never come back!”

She wriggles away from him. “It’s only been two months, Win.”

“I know, but last time you went away you didn’t come back for more than three years.”

“Well, we’re here now,” she says, “just like we promised.”

“And it’s so good to be back,” I say, looking around. Everything about Win’s cave makes me happy: the smell of the fire, the mess of toys and weapons, the wheel that’s still spinning on his rusty bike. I feel like I’ve come home.

“Where did you get the bike?” I say. “I thought both the bikes were washed out to sea.”

“Well, this one got washed back in again,” he says, laughing at his good luck. “I found it on the beach last week.”

“On the beach?” says Rose, looking up. “Did you see any mermaids down there?”

“Loads,” says Win. “They were all lying around sunbathing. I was practically tripping over them.”

Rose’s eyes light up. “Did you see Mitch?”

Win shakes his head. “No, I’ve not seen her anywhere. I’ve been to her hut a few times, but it’s always deserted. Sorry, Rose.”

Rose’s shoulders sag a little, but she does a determined smile. “You haven’t been to her hut today, have you? She could be arriving back this very minute!”

“Yeah, I guess so,” says Win, although he doesn’t sound convinced. Then he turns his attention to his booby trap, twanging the trip wire with his foot, making the bucket tip over again. “So what do you think of this bad boy?” he asks proudly. “I rigged it up in case Crowky found my cave. If you’d come a couple of weeks ago, Arthur would be dead by apples right now. There were hundreds in there!”

I pick up the lone apple that hit me on the head. “You ate the rest, didn’t you?”