Chapters (105)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Epigraph
- Before it All Started
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Four Weeks Ago
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Now
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Four Weeks Ago
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Now
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Three Days Ago
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Now
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- Chapter 65
- Chapter 66
- Chapter 67
- Chapter 68
- Chapter 69
- Two Hours Later
- Chapter 70
- Chapter 71
- Chapter 72
- Chapter 73
- Chapter 74
- Chapter 75
- Chapter 76
- Chapter 77
- Chapter 78
- Chapter 79
- Chapter 80
- Chapter 81
- Chapter 82
- Chapter 83
- Chapter 84
- Chapter 85
- Chapter 86
- Chapter 87
- One Week Later
- Chapter 88
- Chapter 89
- Acknowledgements
- Keep Reading …
- Books by Ross Welford
- About the Publisher
‘I’m sorry, Mola. What did you say?’
‘I say, now she has her dad, she is very happy girl!’
Her … her … Oh my God!
Seconds later, I’ve pushed through the people surrounding them, and I’m whooping with delight for her, and I’ve grabbed her in a big hug and spun her round and then I’ve hugged her very startled-looking dad, who I’m not at all surprised to see looks just like he did in the dream, and he smiles and hugs me back; I’ve even hugged Dennis.
And there, with the rain spotting my shirt and the wind flapping the flags to a frenzy, and Susan smiling and Sebastian scratching Dennis’s head, I understand just how lucky I have been.
Chapter 89
The rain has stopped now, and Seb and I are splashing our way back home through the puddles.
‘What do you reckon it was that Mam and Billy wanted to tell us?’ says Seb.
‘Haven’t a clue,’ I say, happily. It’s probably something to do with the fence, but I don’t really care.
‘Hey, Malky. All that Dreaminator stuff? We’ve been talking about it a lot, yeah?’
‘Mm-hmm.’ We certainly have. In fact, Susan, Seb and I have talked about little else for days. I have had no more waking dreams, and nor has Seb. Just normal, crazy ones that we both forget shortly after waking.
‘Thing is, Malky, I’ve stopped talking about it to other people. Not Erin, not Hassan … I reckon they will think we’re nuts.’
‘I think you may be right, Lil-Bro.’
‘So, we don’t tell anyone, eh?’
I put my arm round his little shoulders and smile.
‘Seb, my friend, I wouldn’t dream of it.’
THE END
Acknowledgements
Any book is a collaborative work, and I owe thanks to countless people – many of whom I don’t even know – who have played a part in making this story reach you.
Chief among these is my editor at HarperCollins, Nick Lake, whose thoughtful advice is always sound and helpful; also Samantha Stewart and Jane Tait, whose contributions are often disguised as small changes but which have a big impact. Thanks, too, to my brother Roy Welford for reading an early version and making valuable suggestions.
Last, but certainly not least, thank you to the booksellers, librarians, bloggers, teachers and others, for whose consistent support and recommendations I am hugely grateful.
Keep Reading …
When eleven-year-old Georgie befriends an eccentric retired scientist, she becomes the test subject for a thrilling new experiment: a virtual-reality 3D version of the future.
But then a deadly disease threatens the life of every dog in the country and Georgie’s beloved dog, Mr Mash, gets sick. And that’s only the start of her troubles.
Soon, Georgie and Mr Mash must embark on a desperate quest: to save every dog on earth, and maybe even all of humanity …
… without actually leaving the room.
