He weaves around a pile of wood before I can stop him. I desperately jab at the torch and it flickers into life. Directing the beam reveals a stack of logs, an old axe and a dark shape on the ground. A white face with long black hair blinks at me.

‘You!’

He sits up and holds an arm to his eyes. ‘I’m sorry. I had nowhere to go.’

A green sleeping bag covers his legs, and he’s been using his duffel bag as a pillow.

‘Why didn’t you tell me about Gandalf?’

‘Who?’

‘Mormor’s dog. Why didn’t you tell me he was here?’

Gandalf covers the boy’s face in a barrage of licks and he smiles and scratches the dog’s head in return. ‘I only met him tonight. I heard barking so I let him in with me.’

Gandalf puts his head on one side, his brown eyes pleading. It must be well below zero – the boy will freeze if he stays out here. He left the cabin when I told him to, but even so, I know nothing about him. I can’t just let him back in.

Gandalf barks as if determined to change my mind. I bite my lip, wishing Mormor was here. What would she do? In her stories, a stranger always turns out to be a powerful wizard. Those who offer meat and mead are rewarded but those who close their doors pay the price. It wasn’t in Mormor’s nature to turn anyone away. I look up to see Gandalf licking the boy’s nose. He would know if the boy was bad, surely.

I turn towards the door. ‘Come on, let’s get you inside.’

Gandalf wags his tail and trots towards me, then stops and glances back. The boy is wearing his leather coat inside the sleeping bag. I walk over to him with a sigh, hating the idea of touching his clothes, but at the same time knowing it’s the only way to tell if I can trust him.

Standing above him, I take a deep breath and steel myself for whatever comes. I reach my fingers to the back of his shoulder, in a gesture that hopefully looks like I want him to get up. Thoughts and feelings crowd my mind. Guilt, love and sadness – then another emotion: one of bitterness, jealousy and hatred. How can someone carry so much kindness and yet have the potential for such malice too? It’s like he has a split personality. I pause, unsure. There is nothing to suggest he wants to hurt me, but something isn’t right.

The boy looks at me hopefully, his teeth chattering. Gandalf barks and I shrug reluctantly. ‘Come on then, get up, before you freeze to death.’