‘See how the glossy leaves of scented myrtle and cascading ivy provide a backdrop to these purple primulas? And this Christmas rose would be quite overlooked, were it not surrounded by delicate wisps of tree fern, and the grey-and-blue leaves of eucalyptus. The different types of foliage all have their parts to play: honey bracelet, Italian Ruscus, lemon leaf and moss. Only look what happens when a wreath is made from flowers alone.’

She pointed at a couple near the bottom of the wall. They had hardly any greenery, but they didn’t have many flowers either, and what blooms there were appeared drained of colour, feeble and limp, like they’d wilted in the sun.

‘Alas,’ the Spider Queen said softly, ‘life needs dark leaves in the wreath. There cannot be true joy without sorrow, or real happiness without loss. They come as a pair. It is simply how it must be, if one is to live a full life. Take my own wreath, for example.’ She pointed at a particularly striking one made up of foliage so dark it was almost purple and black in places, but brightened with spectacular bursts of scarlet poinsettia.

‘I first saw the poinsettia in Mexico,’ she said. ‘The Euphorbia pulcherrima, to give it its botanical name, but it’s also known as a “Christmas star” because of its red pigment, so vibrant and bold. I would not give up my dark leaves if it meant losing the poinsettia,’ she said.

The garden faded away now, taking the memories of the flowers with it.

‘I w-wish there was s-something I could d-do,’ Beatrice said helplessly.

‘Well, actually,’ Rosa said, ‘there’s nothing you can do, but there may be something I can do. In fact that’s why I’ve come here – to discuss it with you.’

She proceeded to tell Beatrice about the night the Carousel of Icicles had appeared in the frosted grounds of Raven Hall. She told her, too, of the strange boy who roamed the house at night and what he had said about the carousel. And, finally, she told her about the invitation itself.

‘And of course I intend to enter that competition,’ Rosa said fiercely. ‘I intend to build the carousel, and win, and get my daughter back. I’d like you to tell me everything you know about the Spider Queen. About her likes and tastes and preferences. Anything at all that might help me to win.’

Beatrice stared at her friend in silence. She longed to help her in any way she could, and yet she felt nothing but despair at the news that Rosa was entering the competition too. There was only one prize. They couldn’t both win it, and a wish was not something that could be shared. She would have given Rosa almost anything that she asked, but not this.

‘I c-can’t.’ She forced the words out like stones.

Rosa looked confused. ‘Can’t what?’