‘I’m watching you, young lady.’

Don’t I know it. I swear the man has tiny crosshairs stamped on the back of his eyes.

‘I hope you’re behaving yourself.’

I smile weakly. ‘Of course, Mr Neeson.’

His eyes shine as he looks me up and down, taking an audit of my body. ‘Hmm, that shirt is a little tight.’ He says it with a faint smirk and I glance down at my uniform, which is loose-fitting and buttoned up to the neck. He starts to say something else, but I point to Dot on her bench. She has her head in a book and is sucking the legs off an unsuspecting jelly baby. ‘The lady over there wanted my assistance earlier, so …’

He steps closer and I move back, bumping into the table. The last time he pushed up against me in the staffroom I accidentally tipped hot coffee over him, but he obviously hasn’t got the message. I’ve dealt with worse than him before. Teenage girls are like butterflies: we have a lot of predators.

‘Can you smell something?’ I ask.

He grins and sniffs the collar of his polo shirt. ‘Picking up my pheromones, are you?’

I turn my head away. ‘I don’t know – it smells rotten, like a dead animal.’

He frowns as if he can detect the weird smell in here too.

‘Might be rats,’ I say helpfully. ‘It’s the time of year when they come inside.’

His face turns redder. ‘Why, have you seen one?’ He spots Tom and hurries after him, his legs working overtime, presumably about to send him on a rat-finding mission. I smile at the thought, and then I get another waft. Whatever the horrible smell is, it’s getting stronger.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, making my heart leap. I fumble with it and it drops to the floor. I should go somewhere private, but there isn’t time. Cursing, I snatch it up and swipe to accept the call.

‘Hello?’

A timid voice answers in a Welsh accent. ‘Is that Ivy?’

I try to answer, but the words are too big for my throat and it takes me a moment to speak. ‘Yes. Is that, are you my mo—?’

‘Listen, there isn’t much time. You’re in danger.’ She speaks in an urgent whisper then snatches a breath, her voice trembling. ‘They can take control of anyone or anything, people you know or strangers. You won’t know who they are, but they’re coming for you.’

‘What? Who are –?’

The man in the anorak has paused at the far end of the path, his head twisting to look over his shoulder at me and then forward again. He stares with lifeless eyes, his nostrils flared and his fleshy cheeks pale and clammy. He keeps on turning his head, repeating the motion as if he’s stuck in a bizarre time glitch.

The woman gabbles down the phone. ‘You shouldn’t have put your work and home address in the letter. They’re always watching me. Now I know where you are, they will too. Go somewhere else, anywhere, but whatever you do, stay away from the island. Their powers are strongest at the lighthouse. I’m sorry, but you have to run. Please, Ivy – run!’