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turned to me. ‘Coming?’
    â€˜Not bothered,’ I muttered.
    Uncle Tristram took one more look at Morning Glory flouncing about in her nightie. ‘Well, I am , I’m afraid,’ he said. ‘So you come with me.’
    Sighing, I heaved myself off the hard little wooden chair and followed him out of the door. I stood about while he fussed with his lens cap and zoom and light filters and whatnot.
    â€˜Why are you doing this anyway?’ I asked him. ‘It’s not like you to go outside to take photos of hills and countryside when you can stay in and take photos of girls in their nighties.’
    He tapped the side of his head. ‘A cunning plan,’ he said, ‘to show that I, too, am in harmony with the universe.’
    â€˜Oh, I see. So we won’t be out for long?’
    â€˜Barely a moment.’
    He aimed the camera up the hill. I waited for the click.
    â€˜Odd,’ he said suddenly, lowering the camera. ‘It looks a bit different.’
    â€˜Different?’
    I looked up the hillside. It looked just the same to me. Steep. Barren. Just a shade too close.
    â€˜I can’t see anything.’
    â€˜Look,’ he said. ‘Right up there at the top. Can you see something glinting?’
    I said sarcastically, ‘Oh! Could it be a tiny flash of angel’s wings?’ and added my imitation of Titania: ‘Thooper, Uncle Twithtram! Can we go and thee ?’
    He was too busy looking up the hill to pay attention. ‘You know, I do believe it’s water.’
    â€˜Can’t be,’ I told him. ‘The stream runs down the other side.’
    He handed me the camera. ‘You look,’ he ordered. ‘Use the zoom.’
    I twiddled until everything came into focus. Sure enough, there was a tiny stream of water trickling down the hill.
    â€˜Strange,’ Uncle Tristram said. ‘You’d think you’d need a heap of rain to cause a second stream like that to come down on our side. Unless there is some kind of blockage at the top, of course.’
    I felt a slight twinge of unease.
    â€˜Maybe we should just climb up there again today,’ I said. ‘To check things out.’
    â€˜Check things out?’
    I didn’t feel like mentioning the dam I’d made. I thought he might tell Morning Glory, and she would tick me off for inharmoniously meddling about with the universe. So I said, ‘You know. Just to look for angels.’
    He gave me a stern look. ‘I know she’s loopy ,’ he said. ‘But she is very sweet and very kind.’
    â€˜And very pretty.’
    â€˜And very pretty. And I am getting very fond of her. So let’s have no more teasing about her angels.’
    â€˜Fair enough,’ I said.
    ONE QUICK BURST
    I meant to sneak off up the hill by myself, but Morning Glory turned out to have plans. ‘Today I thought we could drive over the island together to see my father,’ she told us.
    Uncle Tristram had left off trying to prove he was in harmony with the universe and taken to setting all the pig and piglet knick-knacks in battle order against the owls. ‘I think I’ll just give that a miss,’ he said. ‘But do feel free to take young Harry with you.’
    â€˜If you don’t come with us, we’ll have to hitch,’ warned Morning Glory.
    â€˜Borrow my car.’
    â€˜Brilliant!’ said Morning Glory. ‘I’ve never driven a car as sleek and powerful as yours. Up until now, I’ve only ever puttered about in meals-on-wheels vans and the odd rusty police car.’
    I wondered if I’d heard her right. ‘Did you say police car?’
    She turned a little shifty. ‘Only fetching chips.’
    I still thought it sounded odd, unless she was an undercover officer. But Uncle Tristram wasn’t even listening. He was still busy setting out his owl and pig attack lines.
    I didn’t really fancy dying in a quite unnecessary car