Although there was nothing worth watching, Nat turned on the television very quietly to cheer Woody up. It was like magic: Woody sat cross-legged in front of it, hypnotized, repeating the catchphrases on the quiz shows and humming tunelessly along to the commercials.

When Nat woke hours later, he felt disoriented and confused, as though he had been on a long-distance flight to a far-off land where everyone had gone completely nuts.

He sat up abruptly, memories of last night flooding his brain with a sick dread. Woody! Where was he? He had visions of Woody wandering into the kitchen, still dressed in his shorts, and Apple and Mick openmouthed at the sight of a strange boy helping himself to the food in their fridge.

Nat threw on some clothes and leaped down the stairs three at a time, cannoning into the kitchen where, just as he’d feared, his grandparents sat, openmouthed.

“Where’s the fire?” asked Mick mildly as Nat shot by, frantically scanning the garden for his new best friend.

“Where’s Woody?” Nat asked breathlessly.

“In the downstairs toilet,” replied Apple, pouring his tea.

“What’s he doing in there?” asked Nat, confused.

“Drinking out of it.” Mick grinned. “I always put the lid down, but he’s a clever beggar, he pushes it up with his head.”

Nat plopped down in his chair, relieved. Over a breakfast of three fried eggs, crispy bacon, black pudding, and beans, he relived the events of the night before in his mind. He was convinced it had really happened and it hadn’t all been a weird dream. And anyway, where on earth would he have got the idea about a Wolven from? His knowledge of werewolves was limited to movies and comic books and, as Woody had tried to explain, he certainly wasn’t in the same league as the vicious killers portrayed in horror films. Look how wimpily he had reacted to his gran and granddad’s snoring! Nat grinned in delight at the memory. No, Woody definitely wasn’t dangerous. But then Nat remembered how he had reacted with that blond boy, Teddy Davis, the landlord’s son from the Slaughtered Sheep. He had looked terrifying. Nat grinned again.

“What’s so funny?” asked Mick. “C’mon, share the joke.”

“I was just thinking what a lovely day it is to go to the library,” said Nat offhandedly.

“Why d’you want to be shut up in a stuffy library on a day like today?” asked Apple. “I thought you and Woody were going out in the boat.”

“I need to look up a few Internet sites about werew … dogs,” explained Nat. “You know, health and behavior and stuff.”

“Well, you’ll have to leave Woody outside when you go in,” said Apple, arms wobbling hypnotically as she scoured the frying pan. “They only allow guide dogs in there.”