CHAPTER 30
I’ve decided that the Mystic Springs hotel could be useful for inspiration if I’m writing a ghost story maybe, or a blood thirsty horror, but not a collection of stories for teeny weeny children. I’m sitting in the dining room with the other three winners, and I’m pining for home. I miss Dad and Bertie and even my wayward brother. Mrs Potter has brought us out a selection of sandwiches and cakes. It’s like a variation on the afternoon tea, but at lunchtime. As I’m picking up a tuna and cucumber one, a noise emanates from outside. We all turn to look out of the window. Mr and Mrs Potter and Bart are trudging across the gardens, heading towards the woods. Mr Potter is carrying a saw and Bart is swinging a scary looking axe.
“What are they doing?” Michelle voices for us
