“I was doing nothing of the sort –” Don’t be drawn. Stay focused. “I’ve also reason to believe the whole village is in danger. I have to ask you all –”

“Danger? What danger?”

“To disperse –”

“What fairy stories are you telling now?”

“– and return to your homes –”

“Listen to her, for God’s sake.” Madeleine Lowe shouldered through the crowd. “She’s telling the truth.” Madeleine turned to Ellie. “I did a little homework after –”

“Don’t listen to her,” Thelma cried. “They’re in it together.”

“Come off it!” Julie Robinson fought to Ellie’s side. “You all know Ellie. When’s she ever –”

“You’re another of her cronies,” said Thelma. “All of you, against my Tom.”

She was cracking wide open now – and, painful though it was to see, thank God, Ellie could feel the crowd’s mood shift. Beyond them the surgery door inched open; in the gap she saw Milly biting her lip, weighing whether or not to intervene.

The tide was turning, and she wasn’t on her own. Ellie opened her mouth to say something else, but there was a clatter of footsteps, and a dozen people, led by Ernie Stasiolek, came running down Hollybeck Row. Fucking what now?

“We’ve got trouble.” Ernie held his shotgun broken over one arm. “The park’s full of – I don’t know what the Hell they are.” The Stasioleks lived on Blackfield Way, Ellie remembered, on the far side of the park. “And there’s something out on Litch Way – they’re smashing all the streetlights.”

It was starting. Ellie reached into the car, pulling out the shotgun and the box of flares. “Everybody listen,” she shouted. “We don’t know exactly what we’re dealing with, but for whatever reason, we do know they don’t like bright light of any kind. So your best protection right now’s to get indoors, secure all entrances and keep all lights on.” But wouldn’t that give the things a target? If she only had a few minutes, just to gather herself. But she didn’t. “As long as we keep the lights on, we’re safe.”

As if in response, all the lights on Hollybeck Row – streetlights, houselights, all of them – flickered. Ellie heard screams from Blackfield Park and Litch Way, And from the crowd around her too.

She thought of the pylons that marched across Wakeman’s Edge and Fendmoor Heath. Giants, but little more than steel frameworks. All too vulnerable to a determined enough enemy; all too easy to picture one swaying and buckling, blue fire crackling around it, then toppling at last...

“Everybody get inside,” Ellie shouted, pushing her voice down into its lowest register so she sounded in control and not about to panic, whatever the truth of things. “Find a light source – torches, candles, anything you can –”