“OK. So. Change me back to normal,” said Ellie, looking at herself in the mirror in the playroom. The bracelet, on her right wrist, was flashing.

Fred poised his fingers on the Controller. “Right … do you want to say goodbye to it?”

“To what?”

“To … that look. That version of you.”

Ellie turned to him. “Well. For now.”

Fred’s fingers remained poised. “What do you mean?”

“Well, obviously, I might want to look like this again … at some point.”

“What point?” said Fred.

“I don’t know. Whenever.”

“Ellie. We can’t keep using the Controller like this. The Mystery Man was clear. If we carry on using it and using it the power will run out.”

Ellie narrowed her eyes at her brother. “So … what are we saving it for then?”

Fred looked shocked. “Me!”

Ellie laughed out loud. “You?”

“Yes! When I play in the final of the Bracket Wood and Surrounding Area Inter-school Winter Trophy! That the scout from Chelsea is coming to watch me play in!”

“When we got this, who decided that what you want is more important? It’s my Controller!”

“In what way is it your Controller?”

“I’m the one who’s better at video games! I’m the one who wanted a new controller! I’m the one who does all the controlling!”

Fred held up the Controller. “Apart from now. And any other time you need me to make you look like Cinderellie!”

Ellie stared at him. She took a deep breath. “Look. It’s both of ours. Of course! But just change me back to normal for now – because we have to, because we know it’s using up the power – and we’ll work it all out later! OK?”

Fred thought about it. He wasn’t sure. He felt they hadn’t really talked about it properly. But he agreed that, as long as Ellie looked like Cinderellie, energy was draining out of the Controller. So he nodded, then very quickly ran his fingers over the buttons, and Ellie’s hair, lips, height, skin colour, teeth and clothes all returned to normal.

She looked at herself in the mirror. “Great,” she said, although to Fred she didn’t sound like she actually thought it was.

“Now what?” he said.

“Let’s leave it here and make sure we don’t use it until the day of the game.” She took the bracelet off and put it on the floor of the playroom.

“OK,” said Fred. “Good idea.” He laid the Controller down next to it.

There was a pause as they looked at the Controller and the bracelet flashing together in time.

“What shall we do now?” said Fred.

Ellie thought for a moment. “Maths homework?”

Fred looked at her, in her glasses, and V-neck, and braces, and smiled. “Yes!” he said. And they both ran out of the playroom.

A few minutes later, Eric came into the playroom.

“Fred? Ellie?” he said. He looked around. Kids, he thought. When you don’t want to see them – like when you’re watching Jamie Oliver tell you a fantastic bacon sandwich recipe on YouTube – they turn up (and steal the computer!). When you do want to see them – like now, when you’re feeling a little lonely and dinner’s over and the wife’s stuck in front of the TV as usual – they’re nowhere to be seen.

Eric was feeling a tiny bit depressed. He had started to wonder recently if perhaps – what with Janine spending all day watching Cash in the Attic and Fred and Ellie spending all day playing video games if – well – if they weren’t really a proper family any more. Because a family – well – they should do stuff together sometimes. Shouldn’t they?

It’s not as if there’s anything I’m obsessed with that takes my focus away from the family, Eric thought. Then he thought about going back into the kitchen to see if there was any kind of special treat in the fridge, as he often did when he was a bit depressed. Perhaps the bar of bacon-flavoured chocolate that Janine had bought him for his birthday. Could there be any of that left? On no, he’d eaten it in one bite. Still, worth looking anyway – and then he saw, in the corner of his eye, something flashing on the playroom carpet.

With some grunting, he crouched down on the floor, picked up the bracelet and stared at it. Quite a nice-looking one, he thought. He held up his hand and put the bracelet on top of it. It sat there, like a headband for his fingers. It troubled Eric a little that it didn’t slide easily down his hand. It suggested to him that, maybe, his fingers, and his hand in general, might be a little podgy. Using his other hand, he began pushing the bracelet down. It wasn’t easy. He had to force it over his fingers. He squeezed them tightly together to get it to move downwards.

There was more grunting, and more forcing, but eventually he managed to get the bracelet past his hand and on to his wrist. Once there, however, Eric wasn’t sure why he’d done this. It hurt quite a lot. His wrist skin – that wasn’t something he’d ever really thought about having before, wrist skin – bulged around it. He put his other hand on the bracelet again, with a view to taking it off.

But now it really wouldn’t budge. It just hurt, and it hurt more to try and move it. So Eric did what he always did when he couldn’t think of what to do.

“JANINE!!” he shouted. “JA-NINE!!”

“WHAT?” she shouted back.

“COME AND HELP ME!”

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

“I GOT STUCK!”

“STUCK WHERE?”

“NO, MY HAND GOT STUCK! ON A BRACELET!”

There was a short pause. Eric could hear, just, the sound of someone on the TV saying: “… so, if we just scrape the dust off her bottom, you can see – yes – it’s actually a nineteenth-century piece of china …”

Then the door to the playroom opened. Janine stood there, arms folded.

“Right, so what you mean, Eric, is that a bracelet has got stuck on your hand. Which is not something that would stop you from coming into the living room.”

“Sorry, Janine,” said Eric.

“Let me have a look.” She came over and held up his hand. “Hmm. It’s quite pretty.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. Might be worth a bit. Shall I call—”

“We didn’t find it in the attic, Janine. We don’t have an attic. We live in a ground-floor flat.”

“I know!” she said, with more than a hint of anguish. “Do you have to keep reminding me?!”

“And I don’t think it’s an antique. It’s got a flashing light on it.”

Janine sniffed. “Doesn’t have to be an actual attic. Or an antique. The other week, in someone’s shed, they found a digital watch that was worth—”

“Janine. It’s hurting.”

She tutted. “All right. Go and soap up your wrist in the sink and I’ll see if I can pull it off.”

Eric nodded and left. Janine watched him go. Then, in the corner of her eye, she noticed something else flashing.

She bent down and picked up the Controller.

“ERIC!” she shouted. “SHOULDN’T WE BE ABLE TO GET TV IN HERE? USING THE KIDS’ VIDEO-GAME STUFF?”

“WHAT?”

“YOU KNOW. ALL THEIR VIDEO-GAME STUFF. THE Z-BOX. THE PLAY CENTRE. THE NINTENDO B. CAN’T YOU GET TV ON THEM AS WELL?”

She heard the tap go on. “I DUNNO!” he said.

Janine looked at the Controller. “Of course you don’t,” she muttered. She pointed the Controller at the TV screen. And pressed the emerald button. While jiggling the control stick.

In the kitchen, Eric Stone found himself no longer washing his hands, but crouched on top of the sink. Eh? he thought. But not for very long because the next thing he knew something even stranger was happening.