Her words resound in my ears before I can finally think of a response.

"Felicity, I don't find him. He finds me."

"Well, that creates a bit of a problem, then, doesn't it? I might very well have to run back to the school and tell Mrs Nightwing that I caught you and some gypsy locked in a passionate embrace yesterday evening in your room. Perhaps then you could find him, yes?"

I flinch at her calm tone. It's like she has a dagger of her own, pressed against my neck.

"Gemma, darling, don't be scared. I'm sure we can find him." She laughs melodiously, satisfied by the look of pure terror on my face.

I glance back, once more, when I hear footsteps. I can see Pippa hurrying after us. There is a pained look on her face, as if she is trying hard not to let the tears spill down her china white cheeks.

"It's Pippa."

Felicity sighs meaningfully, and then turns back to face her. "Pippa's a big girl, she can take care of herself."

But evidently she could not.

"Fee, darling, where on earth did you disappear to? What are you doing with..." She doesn't say any more but we all know what she means. What are you doing with her? It stings.

"Pippa, I was merely taking a walk with the most congenial Gemma Doyle. Is that alright with you?"

Pippa is trapped. Felicity knows perfectly well what Pippa is thinking, what Pippa is feeling, but I know, before she even open her mouth, what the beauty will say.

"Quite alright. I was just worrying about you. It's cold at this time of night. I think we should be getting back."

Felicity glances at me, and something indefinable passes between us. Pippa notices, but says nothing, just presses her lips tightly together. Then they turn their backs on me and walk back up the hill to the school.

That night, as I dream, I arrive at that place where I last saw my mother. She is alone, solitary and desperate. The floor is sandy, but pure white, and the sky is brilliant white too. There is nothing, as far as the eye can see, apart from my mother. She is wearing her green dress, and her hair seems wilder. She has taken it out of her bun, and now it flows freely down her back, curling and spiralling like a fiery waterfall. Her huge green eyes are imploring, melancholy and broken, and I realise, now, that it is no longer my mother. I am gazing upon myself.

"Gemma, please, you have to find her." I turn, trying to escape the figure of myself before me. It seems so desolate, so completely and utterly hopeless, that it breaks my heart a little.

"Gemma, darling, it's not your fault. But it is your responsibility. I am sorry, my darling, but it is. Find her, and free her. Then you can begin. Then it will be pure." She is back in front of me, and, as I look at her face, her porcelain white skin, her glass green eyes, her ruby hair, she sees it. Behind me. She opens her mouth and begins to scream, and her eyes reflect the terror she feels inside. She in standing there, spellbound, unable to move, unable to escape. She is simply screaming. And it chills me to the bone to see myself so frightened.

Sorry this one is so short but have to go and wash a car.