Just then, the school bell rings, making a noise exactly like the alarm on my phone, and keeps ringing and ringing and ringing.

Cuthbert begins to shrink, and still the bell is ringing …

It’s working!

He’s getting smaller and smaller.

I feel a surge of elation, power and confidence …

Chapter 14

… and I wake up, blinking, in my bed, the alarm on my phone ringing and the sunlight streaming through the window.

The top of my head hurts a bit where I hit the ceiling – except that was in my dream, so I must have bumped it on the wall behind my bed.

Turning my head to the side, I see Seb in the morning light, his eyes shut, breathing gently, making occasional little snuffling noises.

Above my head hangs the Dreaminator, the glow of the little stones barely visible in the light. It twists slowly, even though there’s no air to move it. Perhaps it’s my breath: I am breathing quite heavily, though I don’t feel tired.

What the blinking, flipping heck just happened?

It really did happen. Didn’t it? I ‘controlled a dream’. It was like I was awake, but I was definitely asleep.

How long did the dream last? Not all night, surely? Do I remember all of it? Could I do it again?

Gradually, I realise I can recall it all perfectly, which is unusual in itself. Think about it: as soon as you try to remember a dream, it starts slipping away. It’s like trying to hold on to smoke. But I just lie there, recalling all the details as if it really happened: the big dog-mammoth peeing like a burst hydrant, Fit Billy talking Chinese, the floating, the crocodile under the desk …

My breathing returns to normal and the sunlight gets stronger, and I’m fully awake and smiling. I hear Mam get up and go to the bathroom before putting her head round our door.

‘Oh, hi, Malky,’ she says. ‘You’re awake! You look happy. Sleep well?’

It’s not really a question. She’s gone by the time I answer, ‘I think so.’

I look across at my brother who could sleep through an earthquake. ‘Seb! Seb! Hey – wake up – did it work for you?’

He rubs his head, making his hair stand on end, and yawns, and runs his tongue round his morning-dry mouth. Then he looks up at his Dreaminator, bites his lip in deep thought and eventually says, ‘I’m not sure. I’m trying to remember.’

‘You didn’t dream anything?’

Then Mam comes back in, saying that Dad’s on her phone. (This means she has had to call him to remind him to wish us good luck on our first day of term because he forgot to call last night, like he did last term. He’s very forgetful, is Dad. I’m not sure it’s all his fault.)