When they arrived at Half Moon House, Rosa went with the duke through the gate of roses and they set off down one of the many winding paths. After the flames, and fireworks, and floating music of her own garden, Beatrice’s seemed even quieter and softer than before, full of twinkling lights and hidden delights.

As they walked past displays of magical flowers, and golden toads, and extraordinarily large butterflies, Rosa hoped that Eustace would forget himself and break one of the rules. There was nothing he hated more than being told what to do, and it would be so easy for him to stray from the path, or pluck a flower, or touch one of the animals. But he had heard what happened to rule-breakers and he behaved himself impeccably. And thus they found themselves on the outskirts of the garden, where they discovered two of the teacup rabbits.

They were hopping around one of the ice houses, a small, squat little building that hunkered down at the edge of the grounds, peeping out at them like a goblin from a tangle of overgrown ivy. It was built from red brick with a quaint thatched roof and looked rather like a woodcutter’s cottage that had been stretched to double height.

The way ahead was partially blocked by the black apple trees on either side, their spindly, naked branches reaching out across the path like witch’s fingers, ready to catch and snag on cloaks and hair, but the path meant they were allowed to go that way, and Rosa wasn’t about to miss out on her chance to see the plums. She stepped forward, carefully ducking and twisting around the outstretched limbs. Ice glinted on the bark and a few late apples hung from the branches, their black skins shining in their glittering coats of frost.

Unfortunately Eustace had spotted the rabbits too and followed her. Almost immediately he accidentally snapped off a twig with his cane as he tried to pass through a gap, causing the apple tree to snarl menacingly at him. They had a brief impression of pale strings of saliva stretching between a monster’s teeth, before the bark closed over once again and the tree resettled itself with the creak of grumbling wood.

‘Would you be careful?’ Rosa snapped. ‘You’ll get us both thrown out.’

‘Horrifying things!’ Eustace exclaimed, shuddering. ‘I cannot think why Beatrice has them here.’

‘They are her friends,’ Rosa said. ‘And they are fascinating.’

Beatrice had told her how the trees had kept her company during her lonely childhood, even creating swings and treehouses for her to play in. They were strange, certainly, but Rosa had always thought they were rather lovely too.