It was a tiny, brick building with flowers inside the garden and ivy growing up beside the fences and around the windows. The door was open and without really thinking about it, she stepped inside, her heart pounding promptly. The house had everything that you might need: a comfortable sitting room with a smooth sofa and a wood fire burning brightly; a little kitchen with silver mugs and plates and an old-fashioned cooker; a table that was set for two with a teapot steaming; and a plate of toasted teacakes ready to be  devoured .

“Hi,’ called Poppy, questioning if anyone else was there. But she was met by discreetness. She made her way upstairs to a gloomy landing. There was nobody in either bedroom though the beds were made up with colourful sheets and smooth pillows. For a second, she wondered if she had walked straight away into the tale of the three bears!

She had flung into her sketching a wish and it didn’t appear as if it was going to come real. There were no signs that a person lived there. She had never met her father but she was clear that he was not there. It did not feel right. Then she overheard it.