It was a picturesque spot, and during the day Rosa enjoyed watching the kingfishers and moorhens, goldcrests and treecreepers that flourished there. The birds were all back in their nests now, chased away by the noise and lights. Rosa knew that Eustace would be searching for her, expecting her to be at his side for this moment, so she skirted around the edge of the garden, keeping close to the trees where she wouldn’t be seen. She was almost back to the house by the time someone gave the signal for the orchestra to cease, and Eustace addressed his guests, his voice carrying across the still airlessness of the garden.

‘I’m afraid my wife has become so mesmerised by our display of freaks that she has lost track of time,’ he said, to polite laughter. ‘But it is my great pleasure to unveil the latest masterpiece from Warren’s Clockwork Creatures on her behalf. Ladies and gentlemen, if you thought the peacocks were impressive, then prepare to marvel at these glorious clockwork swans.’

Guests shuffled forward for a closer look, craning their necks and jabbing their elbows into each other’s sides, all wishing to be the first to see them. The air smelled of spilled champagne and crushed strawberries, and Rosa was glad she’d done what she had. Now was her last chance to call out a warning, but instead she merely took the last few steps to the terrace and said nothing.

The next moment Eustace removed the velvet cloth and unfastened the hook to release one side of the crate. This was clearly the signal for the fireworks to begin too. They’d been set up at the edge of the lake, and Rosa supposed Eustace thought they would be a fitting backdrop to the beauty and grace of the swans.

But the thing that lumbered out of the crate on four stubby legs had no beauty and no grace. Its back was broad; its neck was thick. It was a huge, muscled beast of a pig, with bristled wire fur all over its body, and mean-looking eyes that glowed red in the darkness.

For a strange, still moment, everyone simply stared at it. They all thought there must be some mistake, some explanation for this monstrosity. They had been promised a spectacle of beauty, after all, of wonder and loveliness. Instead, noses were starting to wrinkle in distaste and lips curled in disgust.

What is amiss? Rosa wanted to ask. Is this not the kind of freak you came here to see?

She looked at Eustace, their eyes suddenly meeting across the lantern-lit lawn. Even from this distance she could see how incensed he was, but in that moment she didn’t care. Whatever came later would be worth it, to have triumphed over him, just once. To see his carefully laid plan break into pieces at his feet.