‘How strong can she get? It’s pretty scary at the moment. Will it get even worse? Because it’s been awful. My best friend isn’t speaking to me because Whizzy sent everyone’s tempers bonkers and his grandad got hurt in a big, stupid mix-up.’

He thought about this for a long time before answering. Then he said, ‘I think we should assume it will. But I’m working as quickly as I can. All you need to do is be careful.’

Now Lily was smoothing her hair back over and over, then rubbing her eyes. Mum took hold of her by the shoulders and she stopped it. ‘Alfie,’ Mum called. ‘Time to go.’

It was way, way too soon.

Then I felt brave enough to ask my final important questions. First, what was going on with all the moths? How had Mr Clemm got them on the threads?

Mr Clemm laughed. ‘Ah! Yes. We almost met, didn’t we? I remember that day. I was trying to take some of them out of Whizzy’s range so they could fly away. The moths produce the threads themselves when she’s around. The stuff they extrude is more like gossamer than silkworm silk. They love the electricity but end up trailing strings everywhere.’

Then finally I asked him why Mr Lombard hates him so much, and it was almost too late because Mum was already walking towards us, and Lily was leaving by the back door.

Mr Clemm scraped the edge of the bench with his thumbnail and sighed. ‘I made mistakes. He was badly affected by some pests I inadvertently brought back from Borneo. I’ve apologised, but some people won’t accept apologies.’

‘What about the spinal cords? Those seemed to get on his nerves a lot.’

Mr Clemm laughed. ‘Leavings from my birds of prey,’ he said. ‘There’ve been rather a lot of those.’

‘A lot of birds of prey, or a lot of spinal cords?’

His next laugh was louder. ‘Both.’

Mum was standing there with strained eyes and a let’s go look around her mouth. Lysander had followed her through and said, ‘HA… HA… HAA!’

We walked home, catching up with Lily, who’d stomped on ahead, and Mum told me precisely nothing about why.

3.15 p.m.

It’s not going to be easy to phone Sam, what with Lily’s big ears around the place, but I’m going to the bottom of the garden to try, because this new intel is really going to mend things with me and him. I am floating in a bubble of awesomeness, and when I think about Whizzy wrapped in her soft, wet, light-grey cocoon, my heart melts.

And as for Mr Nathaniel Clemm – he’s marvellous! I still think he’s ultra, uber, well weird, but I really, really like him.

Sam didn’t pick up.