Several of you have emailed wondering where I’ve got to. It’s so kind of you. In fact, I decided to close the shop for a couple of days. It’s not the best solution, but I felt I had to get away from the mirror. I went to stay with a friend who lives in West London. I had a weirdly horrible experience on the tube on the way there. I was staring at my reflection in the black windows, wondering what was going on, whether I was going mad. I was so tired, and perhaps it was that I fell asleep for a moment. But it felt more like the black window was enough to take me back to… wherever it is I go when I look into the mirror. I almost think I heard Mr Marsh-Ayre calling to me, shouting my name; when I woke up it was only a moment later, but the book I’d been reading was suddenly upside-down in my hands.

We need to figure out what’s going on together, please. I believe you. That mirror’s not right, and it’s doing something to me. But for now, I’ve spent a couple of days away and I feel much better. I’m back in the shop now and I really feel no desire at all to look in it. I’m a little frighted to be here, but my friend said I could call if I got scared, and I have my trusty table-leg with me. I’m going to sleep now. Tomorrow I’m going to look around the store-room again. I feel sure I can find out more about what’s going on.