I grew up with a monster under my bed. I call him Patches, for his mottled skin. He’s friendly, murderous glint in his eyes notwithstanding. Pretty shy. And fiercely protective.

Now another beast took up residence in my daughter’s closet. Patches and I both know what that means: feeding time.

Sascha Reinhard has a love for the written word in a rather literal sense given his study of palaeography. Ancient tomes, scraps of parchment, a faded letter from the time of the Avignon Papacy. These are far more exciting to him than the stereotypical German pastimes of beer and football.