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Toby took the creaky steps to the Lonely Wagon in one jump and yanked open the door. In the dark, a familiar, gangly figure hissed from atop the wardrobe.
‘I am the monster that lives in the dar – oof!’
‘Uncle Harry!’ Violet had run directly to the foot of the wardrobe and shoved it. ‘Get down from there, silly head. We need you.’
In an instant, The Ghost of Christmas Maybe was at her side, his elderly face beaming.
‘Little Violet. Oh, and Toby. To what do I owe the pleasure? Will you get Nicko? I mean, did you get him…? What day is it again?’
Toby only offered him a sad smile. ‘Not yet, Harry. We don’t have much time but I think it’s still possible to save him. Only, we need your help.’
‘My help?’ The ghost surreptitiously did a little fist pump which Toby pretended not to notic
