‘I take it you found something to read then?’

‘It’s about witchcraft. Apparently, you cast a circle as protection. If you need to pass through it, you have to cut a doorway as an opening and then reseal it. I think that’s what your mum was doing in the hallway when we arrived.’

I rub my arms, feeling suddenly cold, and he eyes me with concern. ‘You OK?’

‘Yeah, it’s just weird hearing you talk about witchcraft.’

‘You should read this stuff – honestly, it’s completely bonkers.’

‘Somebody must take it seriously for them to publish all these books.’

‘True.’ He shrugs. ‘But then think of all the Flat Earthers out there, not to mention the people who think the moon landing was a hoax. There’s no shortage of gullible people willing to believe anything.’

He leans out and shoves the book back onto the shelf. As he does, several red notebooks jump out from the opposite end, as if pushed by an unseen hand.

‘Maybe the witches did it.’ He catches my gaze and grins, and I do my best to smile. My mum must seem gullible to believe in this stuff. I get it. Any thoughts I had about telling him the things I’ve seen are quickly forgotten.

He picks up the notebooks from the floor and his eyes widen.

‘What is it?’ I ask.

‘I’m not sure, some kind of journal maybe.’

He hands it to me and I recognise the handwriting. The note my mother left was written in the same scrawl. I flick through the notebook, frowning at the Welsh. I only know one word of the language and unless my mother has written about a train station with a ridiculously long name, it’s not going to help. I turn the pages and find symbols like the ones on the boarded-up door and other, more disturbing drawings. One shows a bent-over woman with long black hair, her face gaunt and her skin covered with spidery veins. Her eyes have been shaded, making them look cloudy, and her scrawny arms are impossibly long and thin.

Seeing it makes my mum’s story feel real somehow. The ink lines are scratchy and give the drawing a kind of energy, as if the witch could turn her head to look at me.

Tom leafs through a notebook and taps a page. ‘There, I knew I’d seen it before.’ He holds up the book. ‘You see this symbol?’

I study the circle with lines crossing it and dots inside. It’s vaguely familiar, but then a lot of the signs on the door had similar markings. He raises another paperback and I notice several paragraphs have been underlined and my mum has made notes in the margin.

‘It’s in this book too. It’s a protective seal to ward against demonic magic.’

Coldness runs through me like an electrical current.

‘The shadows your mum talked about – according to this book they’re a sign of demonic magic.’ He turns a few pages then reads aloud. ‘Witches who follow a dark path may call upon demonic forces to take control of a person. The shadows don’t have a will of their own – the witch calls up a demon and then makes it do their bidding.’