A door at the back of the store banged and there was the sound of scratching on floorboards behind the counter. A bundle of clothes was heaved above, then, after clumsy scurrying, a creature about the size of a badger pulled himself up. He was the most curious thing Prue had ever seen: long toes and fingers, string-thin arms and legs, whiskers on a bent snout and a course-haired body – like an exceptionally large rat. Two mustard-yellow, pop-out eyes stared at them.

They hesitantly passed him the notes from their mentors.

“Great, two more,” he said, in a voice that was spiky, rolling his eyes and sounding like it was the least thrilling prospect in the world. “It’s very late in the day for a fitting,” he snapped.

“Well, that can’t be helped,” said Cora. “What’s your name?”

The rat personifate looked at her suspiciously. “Finblewick.”

“Best get started then, Finblewick.”

He scowled at her, then sent Agapantha to the changing rooms out the back to put on her uniform. Finblewick’s tail drooped unhappily across the floorboards as he scurried around the shop gathering piles of books and equipment. Prue moved to the nearest shelf, where all sorts of tools were placed in neat boxes with green velvet lining: tiny clamps, snippers, needle pliers, miniature vices, magnifiers, wire strippers, solder, wick, and the tiniest precision screwdrivers Prue had ever seen.

Cora joined her. “What an ugly personifate,” she whispered.

A notebook flew past their heads. “I have excellent hearing,” Finblewick said, scampering towards a stepladder in the middle of the store, trailing a tape measure.

“He’s right, you shouldn’t say such things, Frances.” Cora laughed.

Prue opened her mouth to protest, but Cora just pushed past towards Finblewick. “I’m next,” she said.

Prue shook her head and wandered to the counter and leaned over to view an intricate contraption that had caught her eye; it looked like some sort of spectacle machine. She reached out to pick it up.

“Don’t touch!” Finblewick shrieked.

She retracted her hand and muttered an apology.

When Finblewick had finished measuring Cora and had gathered her uniform, he sent her off to get changed and called to Prue. “You, the nosy one with bushy hair, come here. Well, come on, I don’t have all day.”

Prue could already see that although personifates had no memory of their lives before, it was quite clear that their personalities were very much there. It was so strange to think that this curious rat had once been alive as a person. He was probably a mean shopkeeper then, like the one in Peck’s Supplies in North Owlcot. She’d always pushed Francis ahead of her to go in there.