Four Children and It Read online

‘It gets up my nails if I dig like that,’ said Robbie.

  ‘Oh, poor little diddums,’ said Smash, who didn’t have any fingernails to speak of, because she bit them so badly. She went on digging, throwing up a storm of sand all round her. Then she suddenly stopped, and gave a little scream.

  ‘What? What is it? Did you stub your fingers on a stone?’ I asked.

  ‘There’s something there!’ she said, sitting back on her legs and pointing.

  ‘Oh, ha ha,’ I said, because I thought this was one of her games. ‘What is it? A rotting corpse out of one of your Marvel O’Kaye horror books?’

  ‘It’s alive,’ said Smash. ‘It was warm and it twitched.’

  ‘An animal!’ said Robbie excitedly.

  ‘Take no notice, Robs. She’s just kidding us,’ I said.

  ‘No, I’m not. Look!’ said Smash, flicking sand again.

  We all looked – and saw a paw. A brown furry paw with a pink pad and neat little claws. It scrabbled frantically, attempting to cover itself with sand. Smash reached out and tried to grab it.

  ‘Careful!’ said Robbie in such a fierce voice that Smash stopped, startled. ‘You’ll frighten it. Now, let me.’ He bent down and spoke very softly. ‘There now, little creature. It’s all right. We’re not going to hurt you. We’ll let you hide away in a minute if that’s what you want. We just want to check you’re all right, so I’ll ease the sand away here, very very carefully …’ Robbie exposed a short stout furry leg, and then rather large hindquarters.

  ‘Whatever is it?’ I said.

  ‘It’s a ginormous rat!’ said Smash.

  ‘No, it’s too furry,’ said Robbie.

  ‘I think it’s a meerkat. They bury themselves in sand,’ I said.

  ‘It’s too fat for a meerkat,’ said Robbie. ‘I’m not sure what it is.’

  ‘Pussy cat, pussy cat!’ said Maudie.

  ‘It hasn’t got a tail,’ said Robbie.

  ‘It’s got a very big bottom!’ Smash shrieked.

  ‘Sh! So have you,’ said Robbie. ‘Now shut up, you’re frightening it. There now, little creature. Can you come out just a tiny bit?’

  The animal did its best to burrow further in, but Robbie very gently scooped the sand away from its sides and then held it firm.

  ‘Come on now. I promise we won’t hurt you,’ Robbie whispered.

  The legs stopped scrabbling and Robbie pulled very carefully. The creature shot right out of the sand. We stared at it, amazed. It was far fatter than we’d expected. It had an extremely wrinkled face with a very disgruntled expression. Its eyes were on thin stalks and wavered about, peering at us disapprovingly from its upside-down position. Every single one of its whiskers was bristling.

  ‘Is it a very tubby monkey?’ said Smash. ‘Its face is all weird wrinkles, just like a monkey’s.’

  ‘Monkey!’ said Maudie.

  ‘It is a bit like a monkey, but they don’t have eyes on stalks – and it hasn’t got a tail,’ Robbie whispered. ‘I don’t really know what it is.’

  ‘I do!’ I squealed. ‘It’s a Psammead! It really truly has to be a Psammead, like the one in my book. It’s exactly like that. Oh please, are you a Psammead?’

  ‘Of course I am a Psammead,’ it said, very crossly indeed. ‘And there’s nothing wrong with my face! My wrinkles simply show my extremely distinguished age. I’ve always been considered an excellent specimen of my species. Now will you kindly turn me right side up, young man. I do not care to conduct a conversation from this ludicrous position. It puts me at a total disadvantage.’

  Robbie righted the creature with trembling hands. We all stared at it, speechless, incapable of conducting any kind of conversation. Smash shook her head as if she had water in her ears.

  ‘Did it just speak?’ she said. She stared at Robbie and me as if we’d somehow performed a brilliant trick of ventriloquism. ‘I know it’s really you guys, pretending,’ she said uncertainly.

  Maudie put her finger near the creature. Smash snatched her backwards.

  ‘Don’t, Maudie. It might bite!’ she shrieked.

  ‘I shall indeed bite if you persist with that ill-mannered, high-pitched squealing,’ it said. ‘Of course I can speak – and much more eloquently than you, Shouty-Squealy-Person. What is your name?’

  ‘Smash,’ she whispered.

  ‘Smash? Dear goodness, names have become very short and brutal in this new age. Are you a girl person or a boy person?’

  ‘I’m a girl – and my real name’s Samantha, but I hate it,’ Smash muttered.

  ‘I thought you were a girl, but your short hair and coarse trousers confused me,’ it said. The eyes on stalks wavered in Robbie’s direction.

  ‘And I presume you are a girl too?’

  Smash sniggered.

  ‘No, I’m a boy,’ said Robbie. ‘I’m Robert.’

  ‘Well, thank you for handling me so gently, young Robert. Some children would have tugged violently.’

  It waddled forward on its hind paws and shook the rest of the sand out of its fur. Maudie laughed and clapped her hands delightedly.

  ‘You’re a merry little person,’ it said, its small fierce face softening. Everyone always loved Maudie – even mythical creatures from storybooks.

  ‘She’s Maudie, our little half-sister,’ I said.

  ‘Half a sister?’ said the creature. ‘Do you say that because she’s half your size?’

  ‘No, because we’re only half related. We’ve got the same dad, but Maudie’s got a different mother,’ I said.

  The Psammead waved its eyes, absorbing this. They flicked on their stalks to Smash.

  ‘So the shouty Smash girl is your half-sister too?’

  ‘No, she’s Maudie’s half-sister, because they have the same mum, Alice – but we’re just stepsisters,’ I said.

  ‘Hmm! Family life seems particularly complicated nowadays,’ said the Psammead.

  ‘Don’t you … breed?’ Robbie asked timidly.

  ‘Alas, I fear I am the very last of my line,’ said the Psammead. ‘Unless –’ He turned towards me, clasping his paws. ‘You, young lady with the long hair. What is your name?’

  ‘Rosalind.’

  ‘You said you read about a Psammead in a book. Perhaps I still have surviving family after all, if you have read about them.’

  ‘No, I rather think you’re the same Psammead. You meet five children in my book – Anthea, Jane, Cyril, Robert and the Lamb.’

  ‘Ah! Those children,’ said the Psammead. ‘I remember, I was particularly fond of the eldest girl, Anthea. You remind me of her a little.’

  I was so delighted I blushed deep red.

  ‘So was that old book of hers real?’ said Smash. ‘You’re the fairy?’

  The Psammead nodded complacently.

  ‘So I’m in a book,’ it said. ‘Does it give my complete life history?’

  ‘Sort of,’ I said. ‘You go right back to the time of the dinosaurs, don’t you?’

  ‘I do indeed. Is that what you’re going to wish for? A megatherium or an ichthyosaurus? They’ll make you a tasty dinner for a week,’ said the Psammead. ‘You’re looking a little doubtful. I can summon one up that’s freshly killed and skinned and cut into chunks if you’re squeamish about butchery.’

  ‘It’s very kind of you, but we don’t actually eat dinosaurs nowadays,’ I said awkwardly.

  ‘But we’d like to see one, a real live one! Can you summon up a Tyrannosaurus rex? They’re really cool,’ said Smash.

  ‘Smash, do shut up. The Psammead really can do magic spells. You can’t possibly wish for a Tyrannosaurus rex. It’s the most dangerous dinosaur of all. It would rip us apart,’ I said.

  ‘It wouldn’t rip me. I could climb a tree and get away easy-peasy,’ Smash said.

  ‘Yes, but what about us?’

  Smash grinned. ‘Maybe you’d learn to climb trees too.’

  ‘So, you’re requesting a live Tyrannosaurus rex?’ said the Psammead, starting to puff itself