She looked back, safety was only a few feet away. But what would it do to her if she turned back now? She was, after all, already soaked in rank basement water. She would have failed.

Oh no you don’t, Someday.

Georgie strode through the water, not caring now about how wet she was getting, just trying to get to the other side as quickly as possible. There was one more step; the water was at her midriff but the floor now seemed to have levelled off, albeit unevenly: she kept faltering over sharp edges and whatever else was hidden by the murky brown liquid. She seemed to be getting wetter and colder with every stride until at last she reached the far side of the pool, breathless and saturated.

See? That wasn’t so bad.

She reached up to the alcove, which turned out to be nothing more than a few dislodged bricks, and took the object down. Held it up to the light. A wooden doll, worn and aged, its red dress torn, face faded except for two black eyes. There was a key in its back, which turned once. The tune struck up again, slower and laboured. The doll’s hair, once yellow, was filthy, matted and peeling off.

Georgie froze, her hands clasped around the doll. The tune died again and a fresh surge of dread washed over her. There was movement in her peripheral vision on the raised section.

She turned her head, slowly, willing it to have been a trick of the light but knowing it was not. Don’t be afraid of the dark, Georgie. Her lip quivered, fear and anger collided internally, sending waves of icy pulses through her arms and legs.

Elinor Fox knelt at the water’s edge next to a bucket watching her curiously, her long blonde hair resembling the painted doll’s, her eyes transfixed on the water.

‘Hello, Georgie. Fancy seeing you here.’

Georgie screwed up her face, tried to think of a response but nothing came, just the sound of air escaping her lungs and her heart pounding in her chest.

‘I know our little meeting in the cafe didn’t go well,’ said Fox, her voice echoing off the brick walls like it was coming from all angles. ‘But I want to be friends.’

She turned to look at Fox. She tried to read her face, to work out what chance she stood of just running through the water at her, but the light was too dull and Fox was too far away. She was just kneeling and staring straight ahead. What does she want?

‘Would you like to be friends, Georgie?’ Fox looked across but her gaze seemed distant.

Georgie nodded, not knowing what else to do. Just let me go. Please, just let me go.

‘Speak up!’ Fox shouted.

‘Yes!’