She dropped a kiss on the top of his head, which he rubbed off impatiently, and left him to read the letter. Nat scanned his dad’s scrawly, loopy handwriting. If enthusiasm could pay rent and buy groceries, the Carvers would never have had any money troubles at all. Despite his failure to make his fortune as an inventor, no one could accuse Evan Carver of not throwing himself wholeheartedly into a new project. And, as Nat read on, it seemed that for once his dad was actually making more money than he could spend; he was even able to pay his debts.

Nat was so engrossed, he didn’t realize that at some stage Woody had left the room. Puzzled, Nat looked out the window, but he couldn’t see him anywhere.

Then a muffled noise came from behind the sofa. He froze. He strained his ears; there it was again. He knelt on the cushions and peered over the back. Crouching behind the sofa was a grinning, human-shaped Woody.

“What are you looking so pleased about?” whispered Nat frantically. “You’ve shifted!”

“It was quick,” whispered Woody proudly. “Smooooooth! I planned it!”

Nat straightened up. It was bizarre having a conversation with someone who was naked and crouching behind a sofa. I wonder if I’ll ever get used to this, he thought.

“You will,” said Woody.

“Hey, you read my mind again,” said Nat, forgetting to whisper. What Iona had told them would happen was right: Woody was growing up. His speech was less halting and his vocabulary was improving. If he could control his changes, too, life would be a lot less scary.

“So, you mean, you shifted deliberately?” he asked.

Woody nodded. “Just thought about it, puuushed myself, and … it worked.”

“That,” said Nat with satisfaction, “is mega-amazing. Now, can you change back quickly, please, before someone comes in and wonders why there’s a weird naked kid behind the sofa?”

“It’s all right.” Woody grinned. “Apple and Mick are shopping.” He cocked his head to one side. “They’re in the store with papers of news and lotteries.”

“At the supermarket checkout? You can see them?” asked Nat, amazed.

“Yup.” Woody smiled. “But your mum’s in the shower.”

Nat’s eyes narrowed.

“Oooh noooo,” said Woody hastily, “I can only hear the water.”

“She’ll be down soon,” whispered Nat. “Before you shift, did you hear what she said?”

“She said you were unhealthy,” whispered Woody. “I’m sorry, but I think she meant you needed cyclehatrick help.”

“Psychiatric help,” Nat whispered back. “No, not that. About going to France.”

“Yep.” Woody beamed, then his face fell. “Not in the car?”

“No, not in the car,” agreed Nat. “You’ve got to travel in a special compartment on the Eurostar train. It goes in a tunnel under the sea between England and France.”

Woody looked alarmed. “But …”