18

Back in Henry’s room, I went up to Reynard Junior before I’d even kicked off my shoes.

I looked at the fox mask in a new way that night. I was no longer afraid of him. He was afraid of me. A word of Rollo’s came to mind. ‘You poor bastard,’ I said.

I took off my make-up and just before I got into Henry’s bed I hesitated in front of the closed door.

I couldn’t decide whether to lock it and risk Lady Longcross trying to get in (do sleepwalkers get angry? I didn’t want her doing a Jack Torrance in The Shining and taking an axe to the door), or whether I should just lock it and hope that if she found it closed she’d drift peacefully away.

I turned the key in the lock.

In the end I couldn’t tell you whether or not she visited, or rattled the door like a restless spirit, because that night, thank God, my sleep was deep and dreamless.