‘They say that long, long ago, back in what they call the Middle Ages, someone give the king a present what he’d brought back from Africa. Everyone thought it were a dragon, cos they’d never seen a crocodile ’afore. He kep’ it in the Tower of London and fed it plenty, till it grow bigger and bigger.’

Eli held his palms wider and wider apart until he could reach no further, and Jimmy’s eyes threatened to pop out of his head.

‘Eventually that old beast got strong enough to break out of its cage and escape into the River Thames.’

He filled the pipe, struck a match on the sole of his boot and held it to the bowl, took a deep draw and exhaled, resting back against the wall of the hut.

‘That poor old king was sorry to lose his pet and offered rewards, but nothing was seen of the creature for months, until some’un saw it just down there.’ He pointed down the hill. ‘Reckoned it swam down the Thames, along the coast and up our little ole river. Believe that and you’ll believe anything, but that’s how the story gew.’

We were both entranced. Eli was a gifted storyteller.

‘Anyroad, it soon started terrifyin’ the village folk and they tried to kill it, of course, but their arrows jus’ bounced off its tough old hide. Somehow rumour spread that it could only be pacified by feeding it humans. It seemed to like young girls specially . . .’

He paused for effect. By now I had goosebumps.

‘Eventually a knight come along and offered to slay the dragon – or crocodile, whichever way you want it. Some claim he was successful and the villagers was eternally grateful. But others say the creature was only injured and crawled into the Mere for safety, and it’s been there ever since.’

‘Has anyone ever claimed to have seen it, in recent times?’

‘Not that I knows of, anyroads. But they do say that if it is ever disturbed, it’ll bring evil to the village.’ He tapped his pipe against the sole of his boot so fiercely I feared he might snap it. ‘Not that there ain’t already plenty of that, round these parts.’

‘And has it been disturbed?’

‘Someone said they saw bubblin’ in the water the day afore them bombs.’

‘Bombs? In Wormley?’

‘In 1940, it was. They reckon the bomber was jess tryin’ ta find his way back to Germany and decided to drop his payload to lighten the plane. Two of ’em fell beside the church and blew out the stained glass – thass why them winders is just plain these days. Personally I like ’em – brings a bit of sunlight inta the place.’

‘Heavens. Was anyone hurt, Mr Eli?’

His voice dropped to a near-whisper. ‘It destroyed me cottage, and me wife along with it. She died there and then.’

‘How dreadful. I’m so sorry.’ I fell into shocked silence.