THREE WEEKS, FOUR DAYS,
FIFTEEN HOURS, AND EIGHTEEN MINUTES LATER

Snip. Snip. Snip.

Nelson’s eyes were closed, but the sunshine streaming through the trees lit the inside of his eyelids with bright pink and orange splotches.

Sssssnip.

He felt a shiver as the scissors closed right beside his ear and a lock of his wet hair landed on his bare shoulder. A blackbird sang from somewhere beyond the fence. Farther away, someone was mowing their lawn.

Snip. Snip.

Nelson made a shape with his mouth like a grumpy camel and puffed away the itchy little hairs that had settled on his nose.

Snip. Snip.

“You’ve changed,” said Celeste, although her words were muffled due to having a comb clenched between her teeth.

“I haven’t changed,” said Nelson, although if he’d been specific he would have said, “Nothing’s changed.”

What was most incredible to Nelson was how quickly normality had resumed. Just about everything in his life had gone back to the way it was with the speed and snap of an elastic band.Homework still needed to be finished before Monday. Trash bins needed putting out on Wednesday. The radio played the same songs as before. Minty wheezed and farted her days away on the kitchen floor.

It was like none of it ever happened.

Nelson wished he had a souvenir from his journey, something to remind him that it really did happen. A good scar, something small but cool just above his eye, would have been perfect. The red dots that had appeared on his back when he fell on the soul-extracting table were gone. He really had created seven monsters, and together they really had flown halfway around the world to save his sister. He had pretended to be a high-powered businesswoman and flown first-class to Brazil. He had ridden a bull. He had seen his auntie Carla transform from a nasty aquatic creature into a happy one-legged woman. A poisoned jungle transformed back into paradise. Monsters had battled each other. He had turned into a fish. He had exploded. And for a brief moment, he had even glimpsed the very meaning of life.

But all of this was just a memory now. A memory that was so at odds with the present that it was like remembering bits of a film you had watched while half asleep on the sofa, rather than something that had really happened to him.

Snip. Sssnip.

He had considered telling everyone the truth, but every time the words had begun to form in his head he realized how crazy it all sounded, and maybe now wasn’t a good time. The longer he left it, the less he felt the need to claim his part as the real hero in this story. He didn’t even feel like a hero. He just felt … normal.

“Well, I heard you’re going to be in Katy Newman’s new play,” said Celeste loudly to compete with the hair dryer now blasting away at his hair.

It was true. Apart from Katy Newman there had been zero interest in his return to school. Everyone was focused on Celeste, although she had no memory of her kidnapping beyond being on the boat with her friends in Spain, so her story was always short: kidnapped by her aunt and uncle and woke up in a Brazilian jungle.

The papers had reported Carla’s claims about magic and exploding stones, but who on earth was going to believe her? She was just a crazy lady who clearly lived in a fantasy world.

*   *   *

Katy Newman had been the only one to show any interest in Nelson. For the first three days back at school he kept catching her looking at him, and on the fourth day she accosted him in the lunch line.

“I’ve written a new play.”

“Really? Oh. Good for you, Katy.”

“It’s about the final moments before the world ends. And I need someone to be the hero.” Nelson realized she was asking him to be in her play, which he knew for a fact would be terrible, and that if he agreed to it, she would make him dress up in something embarrassing and probably even sing.

Katy’s expression of hope and longing suddenly reminded Nelson of the strange fish that he had followed into the dark to the bottom of the river.

“I’ll be in it if you like,” said Nelson, and it was worth it to see Katy Newman blush before dashing away, just like the fish had done before he had exploded.

*   *   *

He was right about the play. It turned out to be her worst yet. But Nelson enjoyed being part of it nonetheless. He liked being backstage for rehearsal at lunchtime instead of kicking a ball by himself in the playground. He liked helping to build Katy’s ridiculous props and learning how to make the lights different colors. Hardly anyone ever came to see her plays anyway so it didn’t matter that they were so bad.

*   *   *

“Where’s your freckle gone?” asked Celeste, and Nelson opened his eyes to see his big sister looking at him with her head tilted to one side and the hair dryer dangling from her hand.

“What do you mean?” asked Nelson, and Celeste handed him a tiny travel mirror so that he could see his reflection.

It was true. His one freckle that used to live right on the tip of his nose had gone.

“See, you have changed,” said Celeste as she admired the new short haircut she’d given her brother.

“Well, maybe just a little bit,” said Nelson.

“Lunch is ready!” shouted their father, and Nelson felt his belly rumble expectantly.

*   *   *

Although this Sunday meal had been an extra-lively affair due to having Uncle Pogo and his new best friend Doody join them, Nelson had remained quiet at the end of the table.

“What’s wrong with you, grumpy face?” said his mum, and Nelson sighed and shrank back farther into his seat. It had been nearly four weeks since he’d returned from Brazil and there had not been a single sign of his seven monsters. Some nights Nelson would hear a howl in the yard and rush to the window, only to discover a fox raiding their trash bins. He would stare out the window at school in the hope of seeing them appear suddenly to rescue him from his lessons. Sometimes he thought he saw a monster face in the bushes at the far end of the playground, but it was just his mind playing tricks on him. Nelson began to wonder if he had dreamed the whole thing.

As his father filled their guests’ glasses with wine and they all tucked into roast lamb with roast potatoes and all the trimmings, Pogo and Doody told them about their new joint project. After his recent appearance on the news, TV executives at Channel 4 had been taken by Doody’s infectious enthusiasm for history and had commissioned a six-part show: Doody Investigates! Each week, Doody would be testing out the strange devices and gizmos they had discovered in Wren’s secret chambers, and he had roped Pogo in to help him with rebuilding the apparatus that had perished.

“When I saw what this big bloke can do with a false leg—all them gadgets and gizmos—I was, like, I gotta ’ave that bloke on my team! ’E’s a nutter, inn’e?” said Doody before stuffing an obscene amount of food into his mouth.

“I’m building a new leg at the moment,” said Pogo, lifting his trousers to show a new silver prosthetic limb. “I still can’t find the old one anywhere.”

Nelson’s heart gave a great jolt.

He had completely forgotten about his uncle’s false leg.

He’d left it with his monsters! Miser was bound to have kept it with him. Miser kept everything.

Nelson was so overcome with excitement that he choked and spat the food out of his mouth.

“Nelson Green! What is wrong with you!” barked his mother, but Nelson was already scrambling around the table and out of the kitchen.

He’d never climbed the stairs so fast in his life and he burst through the door to the spare room like a policeman about to pounce on a criminal.

He slammed the door shut and pushed an old armchair covered in clothes waiting to be ironed against the door.

Then he picked up the phone and scrolled through the contacts until he found Uncle Pogo’s mobile number and pressed Call.

There was silence except for bursts of muffled laughter from the kitchen below.

Nelson could hardly breathe. He wanted nothing more than to hear the voices of his monsters. To know they were coming back to find him. There was a click and then Nelson heard a ringtone. It was a foreign tone, which meant the false leg was still somewhere abroad.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” whispered Nelson, and there was a click followed by a voice speaking.

“This is Pogo. I’m sorry I can’t take your call at the moment, but please leave a message after the beep and I’ll get right back to you … Beep!”

Nelson hung up, and at that very same moment there was a knock at the door.

“Nelson?” said Celeste. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just looking for something.”

“Pavlova for dessert we are having,” said Celeste in her terrible Yoda voice.

“Okay, Yoda. I’m coming.”

“By the way, have you still got my pendant?” said Celeste in her own voice.

Nelson faltered. The urge to tell Celeste the truth was impossible to resist. He was certain she would believe that he had fed it to Carla in order to save her, but as Nelson tried to think how to start, his sister spoke.

“You’ve lost it, haven’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t mean to. It’s because—”

“Don’t worry,” said Celeste. “It was only a pendant. I can get another one.” And with that, she turned and left.

Nelson took one last look out at the yard. The sun was setting behind the houses on the other side of the fence. It was a pretty sight, but Nelson felt nothing but sadness. He hadn’t realized how much he missed his monster friends until now. He gave a great sniff and double blink to stop the tears that were trying to get out of his eyes, dragged the chair away from the door, and joined the rest of his family, who were laughing at one of his mother’s rude jokes in the kitchen.