‘They said we could stay up,’ said Will.

‘As long as we don’t make a noise.’ There was an unmistakable threat in Alice’s voice. ‘If we do, Mrs Henshaw said she’d send us home early.’

The others nodded, knowing that their youth club leader was a woman to be reckoned with. They were sitting round the wood-burning stove in the log cabin in the pine woods. The grown-ups were only metres away in another cabin, but they all felt isolated, particularly with the snow softly falling. The flakes were large outside the windows, and with the lights switched off inside the night sky glittered wickedly. The woods were silent, blanketed under the snow.

‘Let’s tell stories,’ said Alan. ‘ Really frightening ones.’

‘What’s that scar you’ve got, Kim?’ asked Anne. ‘The one on your throat? You didn’t get bitten by a werewolf did you?’

‘No,’ Kim replied defensively amidst uneasy laughter. ‘A dog went for me when I was a kid.’

’Sure it was a dog?’ asked Alan, grinning.

‘Quite sure.’ Kim was firm.

‘It’s wolf weather out there,’ Alan continued. ‘Can’t you see them hunting in packs – or one padding towards you alone, its eyes gleaming.’

‘And its fangs,’ added Alice.

‘Wolves don’t have fangs,’ snapped Kim.

‘Some do,’ said Alan. ‘Go on, tell them, Tom.’

The boy on the outside of the group winced. ‘It was just about the most awful thing,’ he said slowly.

‘Let’s hear about it then,’ said Alice.

Reluctantly, Tom began.