As he walked away from the stage, he noticed a smaller crowd gathered around a group of morris dancers and mimes, who were enacting a scene where someone was being savaged by a person wearing a papier-mâché wolf’s head, complete with massive teeth and a malevolent gleam in its eye. It all seemed uncomfortably familiar to Nat. Then he noticed that two of the morris men were changing out of their white trousers and rainbow-colored, ribbon-bedecked waistcoats. Nat moved quickly. While the smaller one wasn’t looking, he stole the outfit and threw it behind a large tree.

He lingered near the sideshows, trying to appear nonchalant. When he thought it was safe, he nipped behind the tree and grabbed the stolen morris dancer’s outfit.

Back at Woody’s hiding place, Woody eyed the costume doubtfully.

“It’s all I could get, so put it on. Come ON. Quick!” pleaded Nat. “Before someone sees us.”

Woody gave Nat back his T-shirt and put on the shirt and pants, but turned up his nose at the vest.

“Do you feel as though you might change back soon?” asked Nat anxiously.

Woody shook his head. “Sorry,” he said miserably.

Nat sat down heavily, wondering what to do next. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was his mum.

“There you are!” said Jude, looking relieved. “But where’s Woody?”

Nat looked around for Woody. Where on earth had he gone? He had been there seconds ago.

“I’m … I’m not sure,” he said, thinking fast. “I think he might have tried to find his way back to Tate’s farm or something.”

“Doubt it,” said Jude. “But are you all right?”

“Yeah,” said Nat, with a watery grin. “I’m OK. Just a bit worried about Woody.” He bit his lip. Talk about the understatement of the twenty-first century!

Jude nodded grimly. “Your granddad was going to have a word with that Teddy Davis, but when he saw him, he and his friends made a sharp exit.”

“He’s decided to make my life a misery,” said Nat glumly. “He goes out of his way to call me names and make fun of me.”

Jude sighed. “I’m afraid that’s probably Granddad’s fault,” she said, putting her arm around him.

“Why?” asked Nat, surprised.

“You remember that Granddad said he’d had a few words with Teddy Davis?” asked Jude.

Nat nodded, intrigued.

“Well, it was more than a few words,” said Jude. “It was more like, as your granddad would say, ‘a clip ‘round his ear ‘ole.’ In fact, the way he told it to me, more like two or three ‘clips ‘round the ear ‘ole.’”

Nat was astonished. It was his granddad who, despite his love for Dirty Harry films, always said, “Violence never solves anything.”