I tried for a few minutes, then messaged the whole Ash House visit to him. It took me ages and ages.

And he still didn’t reply.

That must be it then, I thought. No more Lilac Farm. No more trundling down the farmyard in go-carts, no more bombing over the BMX ramps. No more messing about on the hay bales, making a massive racket for Sam’s mum.

‘If you make loads of noise, she doesn’t need to keep checking we’re still alive,’ Sam had told me the first time I went to his house.

‘So we could mess with real swords or guns, but as long as we shout our heads off all the time, she’ll think we were safe!’ I’d said.

He rolled his eyes, but he liked my crazy. Or so I thought.

Can’t believe how things are now.

7.15 p.m.

Lily had another twenty questions for me over supper. Why was Mr Clemm telling me about massive elastic bands in the sky? Were we creating a sci-fi story together, and what about the animal I was supposed to be looking for?

Mum said, ‘It sounded like an eel from what Mr Clemm was saying. But that’s impossible – he’s only got a pond, so he’d easily keep track of an eel.’

‘I know that, but what’s it got to do with the northern lights and electricity?’ Lily said. ‘And why does it need solar panels?’

I sighed. ‘I might have found out the answers to all those questions if you’d let us stay a bit longer!’

‘I know,’ she said and, to my UTTER astonishment, lifted a gentle hand and ruffled up my hair. Then she sighed the deepest sigh I’ve ever heard. ‘I just got upset and had to leave. Sorry.’

I was stunned. Mum looked like she was holding her breath while pretending to be normal.

‘That’s OK,’ I said. Then we smiled funny little sad smiles at each other.

Really wanted to ask her about the diamonds, but just couldn’t do it – it was totally the wrong moment. But I’ll file that word away, and one day I’ll have enough other stuff to put with it to make something sensible.

8.30 p.m.

Dad video-called just now. Mum went first because she had boring house stuff to tell him, but then she went straight into everything about Mr Clemm that I’d planned to say.

‘Quite a character underneath the eccentricity,’ she said. ‘Mind you, he’s not above smuggling the oddest animals into the country on boats with the help of other militant conservationists, when the need arises.’ She said this in a low voice, like it was a dodgy secret.

Dad said something I couldn’t hear, then Mum said, ‘No, he gives intensive one-to-one care, then transfers them to good zoos.’