“I’m just off out for a bit!” Tomas stopped shouting when he realized his mum had entered the hall. “I won’t be long.”

“Shush. You’ll wake Granddad,” then realizing what he’d said, she added, “are you well enough to go out? You’ve not been yourself lately.” She placed a scarf around his neck.

“I’m fine. I just fancied a walk in the snow, have you seen it? It’s really deep. Didn’t you notice?” He stopped, a tear had appeared in her eye. “Mum? What’s the matter?”

Matylda stroked the scarf. “Oh nothing, for a moment I saw you getting ready to go out with your Dad, to build a snowman.”

“Oh, I see.” He looked away.

She patted him on the shoulders. “Don’t let me stop you, but please be careful. You never know who’s about at this time of night.”

“Don’t worry, it’s too cold for the yobs.” He smiled, as he thought it might even be true.

Matylda kept her hands on his shoulders for a moment longer, and looked up at him, before saying quietly, “Enjoy your walk.”

“Should I take the dog?” He reached for the lead by the door.

“No, I think the shock would finish the old boy off.” She laughed, “You know what your Granddad says about sleeping dogs. Let him dream of chasing rabbits. Poor dog, he misses the fields.”

Tomas’s smile faded. “So do I.” He replaced Fudge’s lead on the hook and opened the door. Tomas watched, as a large snowflake drifted past his nose and settle briefly on the mat, before dissolving. It seemed such a waste, after its epic journey across the skies, for this unique miracle of nature to end up as a damp patch on their dirty doormat. He stepped over the more fortunate flakes, piling up against the front door and felt his foot sink satisfyingly deep. He called back, “I won’t be long.” He pulled the door shut, and left the old world behind. In an instant, he was taken back to his sixth birthday, when an early December snowfall had covered the fields surrounding their old house. That evening, his dad had taken him through the woods to the churchyard, where a single lamp illuminated the snow-laden trees. Tomas could still see the scene clearly in his mind and he’d believed his father, when he’d told him they were in Narnia. But he wasn’t six any more. He pushed the thought from his mind and set off into the new world awaiting him.