'No!' She screamed and hit me, hard, catching my ear and the side of my head. Before I could grab her, she leaped up and began clawing at her own face, clawing and ripping at her skin, and then at the quilt she'd spent so many countless hours on. I just about managed to grab the scissors from the sewing basket and kick them out of the way before she lunged for them. She was howling like a banshee, screaming gibberish. PC Fletcher and Annette rushed in just as Ffyfield shot out of the door, his tail upright and bushy, like an oversized squirrel's.

By the time we managed to calm Stella enough to stop her screaming, we were all sobbing and shaking apart from the PC, who was red-faced and a little breathless.