This glorious moment was broken by the sound of sirens and a chopper flying above. Dust and leaves swirled as a police helicopter flew low over the trees, circling back when the pilot had spotted the clearing in the jungle.
Nelson sprang up and began waving his arms wildly at the helicopter.
“Stop!” shouted Puff. Yes, it was Puff, who spoke so rarely, and the rest of the monsters remained silent as he continued. “I … wouldn’t do that … if I … were you … Nelson … how will you … explain … being … here?”
“I’ll just tell them that I flew here…” but Nelson didn’t finish his sentence. He suddenly understood what Puff was getting at. If he was discovered by his sister’s side he’d have to tell the police how he’d gotten here, and that could lead to terrible trouble. After all, he had driven a van illegally, stolen the identity of a woman who was currently snoozing in a bathroom air-conditioning unit, and before that he’d set off a fireball in Heathrow Airport. Not to mention his part in knocking out Uncle Brian.
Maybe people would believe him, but that was not a risk Nelson needed to take. The clarity with which he now saw things gave him the headspace to reconsider his options. He could hear the police chopper circling.
Nelson addressed the monsters (and the seven cows who had come to have a look at what was going on) as quickly and concisely as he possibly could.
“She’s going to be all right now, she’s safe, but Puff’s right—if we stay, it’ll ruin everything.”
“Master Nelson is correct. We must leave before they find us,” said Miser.
Nelson stood up and carried the Bang Stone to a safe distance away from his sister. The seven monsters clustered around him and prepared to go home.
“Wot? We just gonna leave Celeste ’ere? After all that?” asked Stan.
Celeste yawned and began to shift in the grass.
“Master Stan makes a valid point,” said Miser. “One of us should remain with Celeste to ensure her safety.”
The monsters looked at each other in silence. Nelson knew Miser was right, but leaving any one of his monsters alone here was a very big deal indeed.
“Honk!” said Crush, letting go of Nelson’s leg and running toward Celeste, where he sat beside her head and honked again triumphantly.
“Thank you, Crush,” said Nelson, and Crush honked back, hugging Celeste’s arm.
“Nosh stay wiv Crush!” said Nosh, proudly taking his place by Crush’s side.
“Well, you two idiots won’t make it back on yer own,” sighed Stan, striding over to join them.
“Oh, great, now we all have to feel bad for not staying with Crush,” moaned Spike, but none of the other monsters paid any attention. They had all joined Crush.
“Master Nelson, we shall watch out for her and see that she is safe,” said Miser.
Spike shrugged, sighed, and joined his fellow monsters.
“Will you be able to get home again?” asked Nelson.
“’Tis simple. We possess another Bang Stone, do we not?” said Miser, turning to see where it might be.
The other monsters looked around, but all they saw were flowers.
“It must be ’ere somewhere,” growled Stan, as he kicked at the swaying grass.
“What if you can’t find it?” said Nelson, and the monsters fell silent at what was clearly a very likely outcome, given the plants continuing to spring up around them.
“We do it da old-fashioned way,” said Nosh with a big grin on his face.
“Ah yes. We close our eyes…” said Miser, and all the monsters closed their eyes, “… and we all say your name.”
“Nelson.”
All seven monsters stood around Celeste pointing at Nelson and humming like bees.
Nelson felt his skin prickle and a wave of certainty fill his heart just as it used to when he touched the pendant.
“See you soon then,” said Nelson, in a wobbly little voice due to a lump that had risen in his throat.
* * *
Up in the helicopter, the pilot turned around and addressed his passenger.
“Hey! You sure this is the place?”
“Yes, this is it—but it’s changed. It hasn’t looked like this in ten years,” said Brian, clinging to the window rail with his good arm (the other was in a sling and his head was wrapped in bandages). Among the flowers Brian could see Celeste and, not more than a few meters away, his beloved Carla on the ground, waving calmly up at him. For a moment he thought he saw the boy called Nelson.
Bang!
Nelson fell forward, partly because of the shock of being in a new place and partly because of the driving rain that blasted out of the stormy London skies. He hit the road hard with his palms, and the stone shot out of his mouth and rattled its way toward an open drain. He reached out after it but it was too late; the stone was carried away by the rainwater—gone forever. Nelson blinked the water from his eyes and, as he got to his feet, was suddenly bathed in blinding white light.
* * *
Uncle Pogo felt as if a 200-kilogram gorilla had been sitting on him all night. He’d never woken from a sleep with such a heavy feeling in his bones. Come to think of it, he didn’t even remember going to bed. As he scratched the back of his neck and rolled his aching shoulders, Pogo had a vague memory of sitting down to eat fish-and-chips with his nephew. After that, it was all a blur. What’s more, his leg was missing.
Uncle Pogo slipped into his canary-yellow dressing gown and hopped up the stairs to answer the door, leaning on his emergency walking stick (which unlike his false leg only contained a supply of Smarties).
Whoever is ringing the bell must be pretty desperate, thought Uncle Pogo. He found the keys Velcroed in their usual place and unlocked the door.
“Nelson! What on earth are you doing out there in the rain?” he said, ushering his nephew inside.
“I went out to … er … get milk,” said Nelson, as his uncle threw him a beach towel.
“Without shoes on?”
“I forgot them,” said Nelson, suddenly remem-bering the sight of his feet turning into flippers and his sneakers floating away.
“Forgot yer shoes, eh? You really are like me, aren’t yer, lad,” said Uncle Pogo, chuckling as he made his way to the kitchen to make them both a nice cup of tea.