Kids' Book Club

‘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.

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 anykind 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.