by Sam Copeland
Charlie remembered, now, that he had been great friends with Dylan before the Great Snail Race. And how he had felt bad for a long time after their friendship ended but had forced himself to ignore those feelings, and then eventually ignore Dylan.
And he remembered that, no matter how bad things were for him at home, at least he had his friends to talk to. Dylan had nobody.
‘Why would I join your stupid gang? You just want to keep me quiet and make sure I don’t tell anyone your secret, don’t you?’ snapped Dylan.
‘I don’t care about that any more,’ said Charlie, and he finally meant it. ‘Tell people if you want. My brother nearly died. My family nearly lost all our money. And now my parents are separating. Bad things happen – and I can deal with it. We used to be friends, Dylan. I want to be friends again.’
Dylan stayed silent, picking at a bit of skin on his thumb.
‘I treated you badly in the past and I want to make it up to you. I know things are tough for you, Dylan,’ continued Charlie. ‘And you know they are for me. We should stick together. Come on. Join our gang. Please.’
Dylan looked up at Charlie and his eyes were glistening with tears.
‘Do you really want me to?’ Dylan asked.
Charlie nodded, not trusting that his voice wouldn’t crack.
‘This isn’t a joke?’ Dylan asked.
Charlie shook his head, his heart a confused mess of joy and sadness.
‘What will Flora and Mohsen and Wogan say? They won’t like it,’ said Dylan.
Charlie smiled. ‘They probably won’t. To begin with. But they will eventually.’
‘In that case,’ Dylan said, ‘I’d love to join your gang!’
Dylan stuck out a hand for Charlie to shake and Charlie surprised himself by instead pulling Dylan into a hug and slapping him on the back.
‘Here you are!’ came a sudden voice. ‘We’ve been looking every– Hang about, what are you doing?’
It was Wogan, and closely following behind were Flora and Mohsen.
‘Were you hugging him?’ asked Wogan, a look of horror on his face as he pointed at Dylan.
‘Well, this is quite the turn-up for the books,’ said Mohsen.
‘Yup. Dylan is joining our gang,’ said Charlie, bracing himself for a barrage of protests.
There was a moment’s silence. Then …
‘I think that is an excellent idea,’ said Flora simply.
Charlie’s jaw dropped.
‘Welcome to our gang, Dylan.’ Flora shook Dylan’s hand.
Dylan looked like he had just seen a ghost riding the Loch Ness monster waving a cowboy hat over his head.
‘What about you guys?’ Charlie asked Wogan and Mohsen. ‘You OK with it too?’
‘If you’re happy, Charlie, then I’m happy,’ said Mohsen. ‘Welcome to the gang, Dylan.’
‘And you?’ Charlie looked at Wogan. ‘What do you think?’
Wogan’s answer seemed to take an age to come.
‘I think Dylan is a big clodhopping ninny-head who looks like a wet stick of seven-day-old celery,’ Wogan said. ‘And I think you,’ he continued, pointing at Charlie, ‘have completely lost your marbles.’
Dylan looked crestfallen.
‘Having said that …’ Wogan said slowly. ‘Maybe a fifth member of our team wouldn’t be SO bad. Suppose we could start a five-a-side squad.’
‘So, all agreed then?’ asked Flora, grinning. ‘Dylan to join our gang?’
‘Agreed!’ they chorused.
And Charlie saw something he hadn’t seen for a long time – Dylan was wearing a broad smile. Dylan was happy.
‘Well then,’ said Flora. ‘The first job for this newly-expanded gang is Operation Clean-Up – we’ve got a lot of animals to capture! It’s WILD out there!’
‘That’s a point actually,’ said Charlie. ‘Dylan, how did you get them all into school in the first place?’
‘Ah!’ said Dylan, waggling his eyebrows. ‘Now that’s a secret!’
‘Fine!’ Charlie laughed. ‘But what on earth were you going to do with them all afterwards?’
Dylan grinned sheepishly and shrugged. ‘To be honest, I hadn’t really thought that far ahead …’
Charlie grinned back, but then it dropped from his face. He had one more urgent question.
‘Dylan, do you really not know where the Great Catsby is?’
Dylan shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, Charlie. I didn’t take him. I promise. I don’t know where he is.’
Charlie fell silent. That meant the Great Catsby really was missing.
Where was he?
***
By the time the parents came to pick up their children from the dance, most of the animals had been captured and temporarily put back into the basement until they could be returned to their rightful owners. The friends were all covered in cuts and scratches, feathers and bits of fluff. Miss Fyre and Mr Wind were huddled in a corner, looking shell-shocked.
Charlie’s mum was the first of the gang’s parents to turn up to collect.
‘Can I just say goodbye to my friends?’ Charlie said to her.
‘Of course,’ she replied with a soft smile.
Charlie went over to the others. ‘OK, guys, I’ve got to go.’
‘Wait, Charlie. Let me show you something,’ Dylan said, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
He opened his videos and started pressing keys. ‘That’s it,’ he said. ‘I’ve deleted the video of you changing. Your secret is safe with me.’
‘Thanks,’ said Charlie. ‘And we all agree we’re never going to tell anyone it was Dylan who stole all the animals, right, guys?’
The gang all nodded vigorously.
‘So, all’s well that ends well!’ said Mohsen cheerily.
A brief smile flickered on Charlie’s face but then he saw his mother. She was standing alone on the empty dance floor, spotlights sweeping around her.
‘Not exactly,’ Charlie muttered.
The last night had ended.
Tomorrow his life would change forever when his dad left.
Flora stepped up to Charlie and took his hand.
‘We’ll be here for you.’
And one by one his friends came up to Charlie and hugged him.
Dylan was the last to give him a hug. As he did, he whispered in Charlie’s ear.
‘We’ll be strong, Charlie. Together.’
And as Charlie walked over to his mum, he was glad the hall was still dark enough to hide his tears.
fn1
Sometimes, Charlie thought, life picks you up, shakes you like a baby with a rattle, then drops you on your bum, and there’s not a single thing you can do about it. That’s what he had learned: you can change some things, but with others all you can do is try to accept them.
And his dad packing the last of his things in the small removal van parked outside their house was the latest part of life he just had to accept. It was sad – he was sad – and that was all right. It was OK to be sad, sometimes.
His dad slammed the van door shut, came up to Charlie and squatted down on his haunches.
‘That’s the lot, son. You doing OK?’
Charlie nodded.
‘Yes, Dad.’
And Charlie nearly was.
SmoothMove came up behind him.
‘OK, Dad. We’ll see you next weekend, yeah?’
‘That’s right. I’ll have your new bedroom sorted for you. OK, boys. Look after your mum for me.’
And with a last hug, Charlie’s dad got into the van and drove off, leaving the two boys standing next to each other in the early-morning drizzle.
‘Come on then,’ said SmoothMove, putting his arm round Charlie. ‘Let’s get in out of the rain.’
Charlie nodded, the rain washing away his tears. When he turned around, there was his mum waiting for him, arms open. Charlie ran and buried himself into the hug.
***
Later that day, though, something extraordinary happened, wh
ich finally gave Charlie his smile back.
Charlie had been playing FIFA with SmoothMove (and almost beating him), and afterwards he went up to his bedroom. As usual, Chairman Meow was sitting on top of the laundry basket and something niggled at Charlie’s memory.
Charlie shut the door and quickly changed into a cat.
‘Oh, how marvellous,’ Chairman Meow said, in a voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘You’re back.’
‘Chairman Meow,’ Charlie said, ignoring his mocking. ‘You said before that you knew where the Great Catsby – the cat who sits in boxes – went. Would you please tell me?’
Chairman Meow thought for a while, licked himself, and then said:
‘If I do, you must do something for me in return.’
‘What?’ Charlie asked.
‘First, you must agree to bathe more than once a week. The smell of you is indescribably awful. It causes my nose actual physical pain and –’
‘Fine!’ Charlie snapped.
‘Second, I want you to promise never to change into a cat ever again.’
‘OK, agreed –’
‘You see, if you’re human, it’s easier for me to pretend you don’t exist. You’re the most tedious creature I have ever had the misfortune –’
‘OK, OK!’ Charlie flashed. ‘I’ve already agreed! Believe me, I’m in absolutely no rush to talk to you again. You’re the rudest, most – Anyway,’ Charlie said, trying to control his temper. ‘Tell me what you know. Where is the Great Catsby?’
‘He’s beneath me,’ Chairman Meow said, licking a paw.
Charlie rolled his eyes.
‘There’s no need to be mean,’ he said.
‘No, he’s right beneath me,’ replied Chairman Meow.
‘What do you mean? Like downstairs?!’
‘No. He’s literally beneath me. In this basket. I’ve had him trapped here for days.’
‘WHAT?!’ exclaimed Charlie. ‘WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?’
‘You will never understand the workings of the feline brain,’ Chairman Meow replied haughtily. ‘My reasons will be forever beyond your tiny monkey-mind. But basically, I did it because it was funny.’
‘WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? YOU ARE ACTUALLY THE WORST ANIMAL IN THE WHOLE WORLD.’fn2
Charlie immediately changed back into Charlie. Chairman Meow jumped off the laundry basket and stalked out of the room.
Charlie lifted the lid and, sure enough, curled up in a ball inside, was the Great Catsby. He blinked in the light, then jumped out and ran downstairs, presumably very hungry.
The next day at lunch, Charlie told the gang – Flora, Mohsen, Wogan and Dylan – how Chairman Meow had been keeping the Great Catsby prisoner the whole time.
‘I knew it!’ said Wogan, thumping his palm.fn3
‘OK, guys, actually I lied, I didn’t know.’fn4
Charlie was happy to be with his friends but inside he was feeling very conflicted.
‘I feel very conflicted,’ he said, as if he was reading the mind of the narrator.
Charlie would be staying over at his dad’s new flat for the first time that weekend, which he was very excited about. But he was also sad because his friends had organized a play date on the Sunday morning and Charlie couldn’t come because his dad couldn’t afford a car yet and the new flat was miles away.
Charlie was about to explain to his friends why he was feeling conflicted, but the narrator had just done it for him, so there was no need.
Flora waggled her eyebrows. She had a plan.
And her plan was this: if Charlie –
‘I have a plan,’ Flora said, rudely interrupting the narrator. ‘And the plan is this …’
***
Charlie’s weekend with his dad and SmoothMove was great fun. On Saturday, they all went to the cinema to see the latest Star Wars movie, and then had curry for dinner.
Their dad’s new flat was small but, much to Charlie and SmoothMove’s surprise, it was fun sharing a room. Charlie kept changing into different animals to surprise SmoothMove and they giggled until late into the night.
The next morning, Charlie was woken by rain hammering on the skylight above his head. He got up, wolfed his breakfast and sidled up to his dad.
‘Daaaad …?’
‘Yes, son?’ his dad smiled.
‘Can I go and explore the area? There’s a park with a playground down the road.’
‘Okey-dokey. Make sure you’re back for lunch, yes?’
Charlie nodded vigorously, put his trainers on, rushed out the door, ran down a side street, and hid behind a large bin. Making sure nobody was watching, Charlie closed his eyes and changed.
For a moment, Charlie stood, feeling the rain on his back. Then he stretched his great wings, and arced his head up to the sky.
A few flaps and Charlie was in the air. He circled, getting his bearings. Flora’s house was on the other side of town, so he had to cross the busy centre.
Charlie beat his wings – once, twice – and he soared higher into the sky, the wind whistling through his silver-white feathers, now glistening wet.
He arrowed gracefully onwards, towards a thick cloud which hung over the town.
Over the sound of wind and rain came a sudden, startling voice from just below him – a voice Charlie immediately recognized.
‘Charlie
BranMuffin! It is I, Jean-Claude the pigeon!’
Charlie looked down, and there, flying underneath him, were three birds he knew very well.
‘And it is I, Antoine the pigeon! You may ’ave changed your appearance, Snarly CrackBuffin, but we know it is you!’
‘And you are more beautiful than ever!’ said the third pigeon. ‘What a glorious white pigeon with a strange long neck you ’ave become!’
‘We shall join you on your journey!’
‘We shall protect you from dangers untold!’
‘We shall seek crumbs!’
‘Onwards! Forever onwards!’
They flanked Charlie on either side, wing-tip to wing-tip. More and more pigeons joined them on their way, until Charlie was at the tip of a huge V-formation, stretching across the heavy grey sky.
On Charlie flew, through the lashing rain, towards his friends, and towards a life he did not yet know.
Puffin Books
80 Strand
London
Dear Mr Copeland,
We despise you.
Yours NOT faithfully,
The Publisher
Dear Puffin Books,
Not as much as I despise you.
Yours dishonestly,
Sam Copeland
Dear Sam Copeland,
I don’t like you either.
The absolute worstest wishes,
Josh, nine, Whitstable
Dear Josh from Whitstable,
No one asked you. You’re the worst, Josh from Whitstable.
Even worsest wishes, times infinity,
Sam Copeland
Dear Sam Copeland,
Loved this book. I’ve read ALL the books. No one knows books more than me. And this is the best story ever! Awesome!
D. Trump, 73 and ¾, USA
Dear D. Trump,
Thanks! Did you know that in Britain, ‘trump’ is another word for ‘fart’?
Best wishes,
Sam Copeland
Dear Sam Copeland,
I hate you.
D. Trump, 73 and ¾, USA
THE BEGINNING
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First published 2020
Text copyright © Sam Copeland, 2020
Illustrations copyright © Sarah Horne, 2020
The moral rights of the author and illustrator have been asserted
Illustrated by Sarah Horne
ISBN: 978-0-241-34627-3
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Chapter 1
1 Not actually dead.
2 Not actually a man.
3 He’d spilled them all over the floor.
4 This was why he was late – jumping into your shoes is actually very difficult and it took him twenty-seven attempts.
5 He didn’t really, he just ran. Ordinarily that wouldn’t need to be pointed out, but because this is a book about a boy who can change into animals, I thought I should probably be completely clear. Don’t worry, it’s always very obvious when Charlie’s turning into an animal. It’s not like he wakes up one morning and BANG! he’s a gigantic insect and you’re left wondering how on earth that happened. That would be terrible storytelling.
