The light softens into pink and Polly watches the shadows of the leaves quivering on her walls. Once she knows it’s late enough, she jumps out of bed and shoves her desk chair up underneath the door handle. She’s not sure it will keep her sister out completely, but it will slow her down. Then she opens her window and climbs out onto the sill. She is a good tree-climber but all the same, when she looks down at the drop below, her heart leaps up into her mouth.

Taking a deep breath, she lowers herself onto the only branch she can reach. It is too weak for her weight and it cracks immediately, dropping Polly through the air until she hits another branch, which catches her. Polly clings on, breathing heavily and rubbing at the long scratch on her arm that’s beading with blood. She spits onto her hand and rubs it along the graze, but it only stings even more.

Polly hisses under her breath, then inches down the long branch towards the trunk of the tree. From here she feels confident enough to clamber down between the branches, until she is finally low enough to jump to the ground. Just as her feet hit the earth, the back door swings open and Winifred is there, framed in light.

‘Polly!’ she calls out. ‘There you are!’

Polly’s first instinct is to run, but there is something strange about the look on Winifred’s face that makes her hesitate.

‘Polly, wait!’ she says. ‘Stop! Buster’s in trouble.’

Polly narrows her eyes. She is used to her sister’s nasty tricks. ‘I don’t believe you,’ she says, but the jumping frogs in her tummy are telling her otherwise.

‘It’s true,’ Winifred says, grabbing Polly’s sleeve, her eyes wide and serious. ‘Just listen to me. I was talking to Tabitha on the phone just now, and she told me the meeting went really badly. Her mum said that the Committee witches are out of control. That horrible Mrs Halloway has been saying things about Buster. She says Malorie says Buster comes to your window all the time. That he’s planning to hurt you. She says it was Buster who was going to attack Malorie at the gallery. The Mayor refused to believe her, so Mrs Halloway stormed out of the meeting in a rage. That’s when Tabitha’s mum left too. But now Mrs Halloway is leading a group of witches, and they are on their way to Buster’s house. You have to warn him, Polly. Get him somewhere safe until his parents get home.’

Polly stares at her sister. ‘You don’t even like Buster! Why would you want to protect him?’

‘Look, I might not be his friend but I don’t want him to get hurt,’ Winifred says. ‘I’m not that horrible!’

Polly can see a glimpse of the sister Winifred used to be. The one who was kind and truthful. The one who played with her and Buster when they were young. And she knows with all her heart that Winifred is telling the truth.

‘Hurry, Polly!’ she pleads, pushing Polly out into the night. ‘Go! I’ll cover for you when Mum gets home.’

Polly spins around and races down the side path. From the front gate she sees the horde of witches storming down the street towards them, Malorie Halloway’s mother in front, her silver-streaked hair whipping about in the wind and her long red nails clutching her cape at her throat.

She spots Polly and shrieks. Polly runs faster than she ever has, up Buster’s front path and towards his tall wooden door.

‘Buster!’ she yells, slamming the door with her fists. ‘Buster! Open up!’ She can see the light on at his bedroom window. ‘Buster!’ she shouts. ‘I know you’re mad at me, but you have to let me in. You’re in trouble!’

Polly races along the side of the house. She tries the back door, but it is locked. Next to it is a small, dark window. Polly pushes at the dusty window and, to her surprise, it shifts a little. She pushes harder and it slowly creaks upwards. She hoists herself up onto the sill and squeezes through the narrow space until she tumbles onto the floorboards on the other side.

‘Ow!’ she cries.

She stands up, rubbing her knee and waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dark. Sliding her hand along the wall, she inches towards a crack of light that she hopes will lead into the main part of the house. She has no idea whose room she has tumbled into until she hears a low growl.

Maggie.

She turns around slowly and sees Maggie’s eyes glinting in the dark. Polly’s heart starts to pound.

‘It’s OK, Maggie,’ Polly says, as calmly as she can, ‘it’s just me, Polly. Buster’s friend. I was over the other night, remember?’

Maggie growls again. In the distance, Polly can hear the noise of the witches approaching the house, shrieking and cackling.

‘It’s OK, Maggie,’ Polly says, inching forwards.

She is desperate to find Buster, and time is running out. Maggie shuffles up behind her and sniffs her neck. Polly can feel her breath on her skin and smell the stink of her oily hair.

‘It’s OK, Maggie,’ Polly repeats nervously, patting Maggie’s scaly arm. ‘It’s OK.’

She reaches the door and slowly opens it, letting the hall light spill into Maggie’s room. Maggie cowers in the light and her eyes are so large and so fearful that Polly understands why Buster’s mother feels the need to protect her.

Suddenly there is a pounding at the front door. Maggie jumps in fright and pushes past Polly and out into the hallway.

‘No, Maggie!’ Polly yells, and grabs Maggie’s arm to pull her back into the safety of her room.

Maggie wheels around and sinks her teeth into Polly’s hand. Then she scuttles down the hallway and into the laundry, where it is dark.

Polly clutches her hand to her chest. She can barely breathe for the pain.

The banging comes again. ‘Open up, Polly Proggett!’ comes Mrs Halloway’s shrill voice. ‘We know you’re in there!’

Polly takes in big gulps of air to try to ease the pain in her hand. Then, feeling light-headed, she dashes up the stairs two by two until she gets to Buster’s room.

He is curled up on his bed with his back to her, grey and pale. ‘Go away!’ he grumbles, his voice twisted in hurt and sadness.

‘Buster!’ Polly says. ‘Buster! I’ve been a terrible friend and I’m sorry, I really am. But you have to listen to me right now. There are witches at the door that will hurt you if they can get to you. We have to get away.’

Polly rushes to the window and looks out into Buster’s garden. The witches have surrounded the house. Deidre Halloway is below the window and when she sees Polly’s face, she shrieks, ‘Polly! Let us in! You are in danger! We know there are dangerous monsters in that house. Let us in! Let us in!’

Polly looks down at the bite wound on her hand. She knows this is all the proof that horrible Mrs Halloway is looking for. They might even say it was Buster who bit her! Polly shudders at the thought. She can never let those witches get in.

This is all her fault. Buster has only ever been a friend to her, and now their friendship has put him in danger. Those witches would never be here, at Buster’s house, if it weren’t for her!

She feels anger boil inside her as she pushes open the window and climbs out onto the windowsill.

‘It’s not true! None of it is true, and you know it!’ she shouts at the huddle of witches below. ‘It wasn’t your daughter I was protecting with that spell in the gallery, Mrs Halloway. It was Buster, my friend. My best friend! But you and Malorie twisted the whole story around to make witches hate monsters even more. The only dangerous thing in this town is you, and your horrible Committee. I am going to make sure every witch and warlock in this town knows it!’

‘Polly Proggett, you will let us in!’ Mrs Halloway hisses, her face blooming red with rage.

As Polly watches, Mrs Halloway dips her hand into her cape and pulls out a wand.

She points it up at Polly.

The witches on either side of her gasp and jump back.