‘You are noble and understanding,’ I say.

‘Why didn’t you say something when I was asking before?’

‘I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t realize there were fae at school, or magic lessons. I just wanted to be normal.’

‘Normal!’ She shakes her head. ‘Who’s normal? What’s normal?’

‘I don’t know! I thought that school would be, I suppose. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. I’m glad you know now. Are you OK? Do you still want to come with us?’

‘I do!’ she says, reaching in her bag for her phone. ‘I’ll just have to text Mum to let her know I’ll be home late.’

I watch her screen light up with an instant reply that’s more kisses than words, and Zara smiles, tucking it back into her bag. She catches me watching.

‘OK?’ she whispers.

I look towards home, where smoke is curling from the chimney, and people – or at least creatures – are waiting for me.

I smile back. ‘Yeah.’

‘Cold,’ whispers Yanny, sitting up and folding into his knees, shivering as a bitter November rain begins to fall. ‘I’m cold. Can we move, please?’

‘Come on, then,’ I say, steeling myself.

I don’t have a phone, and neither does Nan – the very idea is comical – so there’s no way to warn her of what’s coming her way. We’ll just have to deal with it. Zara and I help Yanny to his feet, and we run down the hill, slipping and sliding through the mud, spattering our clothes as the rain gets stronger. By the time we reach the garden, our breathless shouts have turned to laughter, and then we hit the barriers, and of course Yanny’s presence sets off all the alarms.

I wonder why mine don’t. I suppose it’s Nan’s super-glamour. Or maybe the spell allows for me, since I live there. I shake my head and unwind the silver wire to let us all through, speaking the words of peace, and then we rush for the door, bursting into the bright kitchen before I’m really ready.

Nan, Peg and Teacake are all in there, sitting around the fireplace. Teacake has a saucer of milk on the rug; Peg is being a bird, sitting innocently by a mug of hot chocolate. They look up as Zara and I collide on the doormat, suddenly aware of muddy shoes and dripping coats. Yanny staggers through, careless, dropping on to the bench and holding his hands out to the fire.

‘Stella?’ Nan demands, rising from her armchair.

‘This is Zara, and that’s Yanny. He’s a fairy, I told you about him. He’s a bit . . . under the weather. Zara’s a human. They’re my new school friends. Um, Zara, this is my nan. And that’s Peg up on the mantelpiece . . . And that’s Teacake.’

Teacake looks up from her milk. Yanny whistles. Everybody stares at me. I give them a toothy sort of smile, while my stomach churns, and my skin prickles with heat.