‘I’m freezing,’ a female voice complained. ‘Can’t I get a cardigan or something?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. You’re the totty. That’s your role. We need more cleavage not less!’

‘Suits me,’ a man said. ‘I’m rather enjoying the view.’ Ick.

‘Is there security here?’ another one asked. ‘Because I’m still worried about…’

‘Nothing is going to happen to you. You’ll be absolutely fine.’ There was a pause. ‘It’s time. We need to head to the stage.’

There was the sound of several pairs of feet shuffling. I pushed myself off the side of the van and edged round. I could do this, I decided. Besides, if I were focusing on one of my secret missions, I’d have good reason to avoid making anyone else a cup of coffee.

I fell in near the back of the small group. The last contestant turned round with a start, smiling nervously when she saw me. ‘Hello!’ I beamed at her. ‘I’m Ivy. I work here.’

‘Hi.’ Her hands plucked at her tight tweed skirt as she struggled to keep up with the rest of them. I guessed she was supposed to be the shy, retiring, librarian type. I pegged her for the win. People love an underdog. ‘Harriet.’ Then, ‘I’m one of the contestants.’ She didn’t seem very happy about it.

‘How are you doing? Are you feeling nervous?’

‘No. Not so much.’ The slight tremble to her fingers belied her words. ‘Are we going to get lunch soon, do you think?’

A woman after my own heart. ‘I’m not sure,’ I admitted. ‘You should tell Morris Armstrong that you’re hungry. He’s a lovely guy and he won’t mind making sure we stop to eat if it’s going to help you out.’ I wasn’t trying to drop her in it, not really, but my stomach was rumbling too.

‘They didn’t give us breakfast,’ she said. ‘And they made me put these stupid clothes on. We’re going to be spending the next four weeks out here in the wild and I have to do it in a skirt I can barely walk in.’

I eyed her sympathetically. The contestants had been here for ten days already and, apart from the replacement, they’d have met Benjamin Alberts albeit briefly. The more I could ingratiate myself with them, the more chance I had of finding out information that Winter might find useful.

‘Stop a second,’ I told her.

She shot a nervous look at the other contestants who kept moving but she did as I asked. ‘I don’t want to be left behind,’ she said.

‘This will only take a moment.’ I concentrated on her legs. It helped that she’d been shoved into a pair of woolly tights. Between those and the skirt, I could do something. Using both hands, I drew out a transmogrification rune. The woman gasped and stared down as the fabric around her lower half altered itself. I stepped back and cast a critical eye. The seams were a bit wonky but I reckoned it was an improvement, at least for tramping around the Scottish Highlands.