“Yuh!” said Maven. “Like babies do, I guess … And hey! He’s got blue eyes! Cute!”

“Yeah. Kind of unusual – for a tortoise. Anyway,” said Gavin, getting up, “let’s go and tell the kids from Bracket Wood! And bring them out to see our new baby tortoise! We can call it Benjorn!”

“Or Bjornny?”

“Or even Agnetha …”

“Fabulous idea! By the way, Gav, it’s quite big for a baby, isn’t it?”

“Oh, they probably come out of the egg full-sized. Don’t they?”

“Like, yuh!”

Malcolm heard their voices diminish. Through the hole in his shell, he could see their feet rushing away, tramping down the grass as they went.

“We can understand them,” came a quieter voice from behind him. “But they can’t understand us. Manky lettuce?”

Malcolm turned round. Benny was looking at him, his food laid out on the ground.

“No thanks,” he said.

“Please yourself,” said Benny, and tucked in. Bjornita was so busy eating she didn’t even look up. Then Malcolm heard a host of excited children’s voices.

“Where is it?”

“Where’s the new baby tortoise?”

“Is he over here?”

Malcolm looked up. Rushing out of the farmhouse were all the Bracket Wood children and Mr Barrington.

Oh dear, thought Malcolm. I really don’t want to be surrounded by my year, all going on about what a lovely full-sized baby tortoise I am. I don’t want to be picked up and stared at by Morris Fawcett. Or Fred and Ellie. Or Barry Bennett and his friends Jake, Lukas and Taj. Or Mr Barrington.²⁵

Malcolm shut his eyes. Sleep, he thought. It might work. Benny might be right. In fact, he probably is – that is when I changed, when I fell asleep … OK, yes: that’s definitely what’s going to change me back to being a human. So come on: sleep.

Of course, falling asleep isn’t easy when you’re trying to do it. It’s fine when it’s just something that happens. It’s like falling off a log.²⁶ But when you’re thinking about it – when you’re lying there, with your mind going “Come on, got to go to sleep, I’m going to be really tired tomorrow otherwise” – it feels almost impossible.

So even though Malcolm, as we know, was really good at falling asleep, doing so at this particular moment – with thirty children, one teacher and two hipsters heading quickly towards him – felt very difficult. He heard them coming closer and closer.

“I love tortoises! They’re like dolphins!”

“That’s porpoises, Morris, you idiot!”

“Baby tortoise! Baby tortoise!”

“Benjorn!”

“Bjornny!”

Malcolm squeezed his eyes shut tighter, and then darted back into his shell.

Straight away it felt warm and safe again. And even though he could hear the voices of the children and Mr Barrington and Gavin and Maven coming closer and closer, the safety of the shell had a massively calming effect on him, and he remembered just how good he was at falling asleep: and did.