Chapter 112

“There we go, dearie. You’ll be safe for the night in there.”

Dumped in the bath without even a spider for company, Tip gloomily surveyed the walls of his porcelain prison.

He barely slept a wink that night, terrified he’d change back in his sleep and the first he’d know about it would be Mrs. Helpful screaming when she found a naked man in her bath. After all, old ladies generally had to get up in the night, didn’t they? His old gran had regularly woken him several times a night when she came to stay at his parents’ house, clomping across the landing to the bathroom with her walking sticks. Mrs. Helpful proved to be made of sterner stuff—but it was all beside the point, as Tip stayed resolutely grey and shelly.

* * * *

“Good morning, dearie!” Mrs. Helpful’s irritating trill jarred Tip out of the fitful doze he’d finally fallen into. He felt himself being lifted and blinked his eyes open to gaze blearily into her wrinkly smile.