He pauses at the door by the charms to settle his glamour over himself. It’s a bit of a struggle, by the look of it. Tash glares at me, and he turns to talk to her in a lowered tone that sounds part angry, part reassuring.

‘Later, then,’ I say, leaving them to it, feeling guilty. I can see how it strains them all to hide their best, most magical features.

Would people really be that horrified if they saw Yanny for who he really is? Or me, for that matter? What is the difference in me? What am I, underneath Nan’s glamour? I’m starting to wonder if I’m the monster my father is. Why have I let this carry on? Why didn’t I tell Yanny right from the start?

Because I was afraid.

I dig my nails into my palms and swear to myself that I won’t waste another moment, but Zara is hovering when I get downstairs, and she spots me as soon as my feet land on the shining wood floor.

‘Hey,’ I say.

‘Stella!’ she says. ‘There you are. Did you get past me? I’ve been here for ages!’

‘I didn’t see you. I got swept in the tide.’

She seems to accept it easily enough, and we head off to tutorial, and for a while, I think I’m going to get away with it. But Zara is no fool. And Yanny knows now that I’ve got something to tell him, so his eyes blaze every time he looks at me.

By lunchtime, it’s clear to Zara that something is going on, and I don’t know how to steer us all back in the right direction.

‘What?’ she demands, once Yanny is done hoovering up all our food. ‘What’s up with you two?’

‘Nothing,’ I say, focusing on very neatly refolding the wax paper I’d wrapped my sandwiches in.

Zara scowls at us and folds her arms.

‘It’s fine,’ Yanny says through a yawn. ‘My mum knows Stella’s nan, and she’s invited them both for tea tonight. And Stella’s just worried that you’ll feel left out.’

‘Oh!’ says Zara. ‘How weird that they knew each other all along! Did you know, Stella?’

‘No!’ I squeak.

‘Well of course I don’t mind,’ she says, looking between us with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She packs up her lunchbox, taking a really long time to file away all the little pots. ‘Maybe we could all do tea together another time?’

‘Yes,’ I say, relief coursing through me as her face brightens. ‘Come to mine next week. I’ll check it out with Nan, but I know she’s really keen to meet you.’

It should be OK. As long as Peg stays a bird, and Nan stays in her chair . . .

After school, I head back towards home with Yanny. Zara waved us off cheerfully enough, and we live in the same direction, so the lie looks true enough. I’ve promised to talk to him, but the words won’t come, and the further we go, the harder it gets, until even my footsteps are clumsy, and the space between us is full of tension.