‘I know,’ he says and after taking a cautious sip (in case I’ve put salt in it again – it was just a joke) he downs the milk in one gulp. ‘It was awethome! I’ve told everyone in my class. They all think I’m lying. But I don’t care: it happened, didn’t it, Malky? We were in the same dream. Was that meant to happen? It wasn’t in the instructions. Was it?’ He lets go a massive burp, wipes his mouth on his sleeve and starts in on the apple.

I shake my head. It certainly wasn’t in the instructions, but it sure did happen. I watch him chomp his apple with his mouth open and, instead of getting irritated by him, I find myself envying the fact that he just doesn’t mind what his classmates think.

‘I think we need to test it again tonight, don’t you?’ I say. ‘Just to be sure.’

‘Awethome!’ he repeats, and I pick a bit of chewed apple out of my hair.

That evening I use Mam’s laptop to look up ‘lucid dreaming’ – the phrase Susan had used that was also in the instructions. There are pages and pages of people describing how they do it and it usually involves lots of practice and preparation, like meditating, regular sleeping habits, room temperatures, ‘dream diaries’ and even special foods. I’m soon bored, so I look up ‘dreaminator’ to find it’s the name of some pop band, but there is no mention of a device to create lucid dreams whenever you want them.

And no mention of sharing dreams, either.

Finally, and nervously, I type in ‘dangers of lucid dreaming’ and everyone seems to agree that the only danger is from nightmares, which, when you’re lucid dreaming, you can wake from whenever you like.

That’s all right then. The instructions said, ‘perfect results may not be achieved first time,’ didn’t they? Obviously, that didn’t apply to me: Malky Bell, Super-Dreamer!

That night, Sebastian and I fall asleep under our Dreaminators.

And they work again.

And the next night.

And the next.

Chapter 22

It is honestly hard for me to describe just how completely amazing it is to be awake during a dream. I’m going to give it a go, though, because unless you understand then everything that comes next will be pretty meaningless.

You know when you’re dreaming, and it all seems real? It’s only when you wake up, and you try to piece everything together, that you forget most of it so that it’s jumbled up and a bit nonsensical, and by the time you get downstairs you’ve usually forgotten it, anyway.

Well, the waking dreams that Seb and I have are not like that. We remember them perfectly: as if it really happened. I can remember the people and what they said; I can remember the sounds, the smells, the tastes.