The panic in her voice makes my throat constrict. I lower my fork, the eggs congealing in my stomach. ‘I only caught a glimpse. I thought it was you.’

She turns and leans over the sink, her bony shoulders slumped. ‘This can’t be happening,’ she wails.

I stand and go over to her. ‘Mum?’

She takes a few steps in one direction and then turns back, her hands fluttering at the knot of her apron. ‘I’ve kept them out all these years!’ She pulls at the cord, making it tighter instead of loosening it. ‘Are you sure you saw someone?’

‘Yes. There was a woman. I saw her long hair.’

My mum lets out a strangled sob. ‘If they’re in the house, then my protection spells have stopped working. I have to close the portal.’

Tom almost chokes. ‘The what now?’

She turns on him, her voice strained with impatience. ‘The lighthouse is how the witches come through to our world.’ She looks at me and adds, ‘I can try to close it, but it will be risky. I can’t be sure what will happen, and if it goes wrong … I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but if they’re in the house I have no choice.’

‘Where do these witches come from exactly?’ asks Tom.

She paces back and forth, tugging at the apron before finally ripping it off. I know what she’s going to say before she opens her mouth because I’ve seen it.

‘Avalon – it’s where Morgan le Fay took King Arthur after he died. There’s a reason why twenty thousand saints chose to be buried on the island – they could sense the energy of the other world leaking through to ours. The lighthouse is a gateway between dimensions. That’s why the birds keep crashing into it. I have to prepare, there’s so much to prepare.’

She rushes to the wooden dresser and opens the large cupboard drawers at the bottom. I watch her pull out a box of black candles and then her head and shoulders disappear inside as she searches for something at the back. Tom leans across the table and whispers, ‘A portal to Avalon?’

Ignoring his pointed looks, I call to my mum.

‘Is there anything I can do to help?’

She reappears from the cupboard, banging her head. ‘No, and I want you to stay away from the lighthouse. You mustn’t go near there once I start the ritual, no matter what you see or hear.’

Tom pinches the bridge of his nose as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. ‘Sorry, but I’m going.’ He pushes back his chair and picks up his things. ‘I don’t know how long it will take to walk to the harbour and I don’t want to be late. Are you coming?’

My mum is on her knees, frantically sorting through jars of incense.

‘Mum?’