The Vicarage of St. Andrew's Church at Mardlingham Parva is a fine house. Nothing like so outrageously grand as The Big House, but substantial enough to have a pleasant walled garden to the rear. It had originally been built to suit a Vicar with a large and growing family, but with the parish's previous incumbent being a bachelor of almost puritan persuasions, the place had not heard the sound of childish laughter for thirty years.
Now that there is a new younger Vicar along with his sister Rosamunda in residence, both of marriageable age and open to suitable offers, things, perhaps, may change. In fact for a while during the week, childish laughter had already been present in the guise of Katrina, the child of a visiting cousin complete with nurse.
However it was not all laughter that had been in evidence around tea time on Thursday. 
The adults in the parlour had been drinking china from porcelain, while the nurse enjoyed a mug or two of gunpowder tea with the cook. Katie had been left alone to explore the grounds where she soon came upon a long greenhouse on the south facing side of the walled garden. Inside, below the cracked panes and sagging timber, a dry tangle of dead melon plants and grape vines confirmed its long-time dereliction, and it was there in the old flint wall that Katie found the two foot high door that had given access to what had once been the boiler room.
It was her size of door, but it was locked. She ached to see inside, go inside, explore the promise of a place entered by such a childish door. She knew about keys, they were associated with secrets, and this door had a keyhole. Not a tiny one in keeping with itself, but a large, generous, peepshow of a keyhole. Annoyingly, the keyhole was blocked, she found a twig and poked out the crust of spider's web and dust.
Now Katie understood the pleasures of anticipation rewarded. She closed her eyes and bent down to bring her face level with the keyhole. For a moment she imagined the world she hoped to find beyond. Then she opened one brown eye and looked through. On the other side, looking back, was a huge and glowing yellow one. Katie's terrified scream echoed round the enclosed garden. She ran for nurse.
“Ah ha!” said nurse, triumphantly, “Hant Oi allus told yew th'Hobgoblin wud be hid in wait fer naughty little girls loike yew.”
“Nah!” said Katie, using her favourite word, “It was just that silly old ginger cat.”
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