I picked myself up off the floor. Miraculously, nothing seemed to be broken. “More?”
“Oh yes, you mark my words. Bogies and brownies, knockers and clockers, phantoms and spirits of all descriptions are noticing this place for the first time.”
“How can they be noticing this place?”
“Go and look out of the window.”
As I approached the curtains, Raven was laying the scarf on the table, arranging the artefacts.
Drawing back the curtain, my breath caught in my throat. The view looked like Van Gogh had painted the street before Picasso had touched it up.
