The following day dawned bright and crisp, for a change. ‘Where are you two off to?’ Mrs Diamond said, as we were pulling on our boots.

‘Going for a walk,’ I said cheerfully.

‘Find dragon,’ Jimmy added.

She frowned. ‘You’ve not been talking to old Eli, have you?’

Jimmy nodded, his cheeks reddening. I put my arm round him, trying to reassure him that there was no shame in what he’d said.

‘Well, don’t you go bothering that old boy. He’s not all there, if you get my meaning,’ she said, tapping the side of her head. ‘And he can have a fearsome temper on him.’ She clanged the empty soup tureen into the butler’s sink so roughly that it made us both jump. ‘You wouldn’t want people to think the vicar’s children believe in a load of heathen nonsense, would you? It’s a touchy topic around these parts.’

Whatever did she mean by ‘heathen nonsense’? Of course we didn’t actually believe in dragons.

‘We’re only going to the woods,’ I said.

‘Then mind you’re back for lunch. Twelve sharp. I’ve made soup.’

Whoever suggested that the Suffolk landscape is flat had never been to this valley. The path through the woods led steeply downwards until at last we could begin to see glimpses of sunlit fields and the red-brick chimneys of Wormley Hall.

The slope flattened out now, and between the trees we could just about make out water shimmering in the sunlight: we were getting close. The footpath swerved and we were stopped in our tracks by a high wire fence decorated every few yards with notices declaring ‘PRIVATE, NO TRESPASSING’.

But the path continued to our right, and five minutes further on we came to a point where the bushes thinned out to give our first unhindered view of the lake. It was so much larger than I’d imagined: a wide, clear expanse of water, uninterrupted save for two or three small grassy islands planted with willow trees. Wormley Hall was out of sight, hidden behind trees to the left.

In most places the banks were overhung with brambles, but quite close to us was a gentle sloped shoreline populated with bulrushes and luxuriant, almost exotic-looking growths of brilliant yellow flowers, like giant buttercups.

The lake glittered invitingly, ripples reflecting the sky like a scatter of diamonds. How wonderful it would be to sit on that bank, I thought, splashing your face or even soaking your feet in the cool, clear water. The fence here looked neglected: posts had fallen or wire netting had rusted into holes. It was so tempting: it would be quite possible to get through.