The Boy Who Hatched Monsters Read online

  Birthday? It wasn’t his birthday. ‘No, I was hatched at the end of May sometime.’

  ‘You were, but Samuel Ethan Kavanagh, the child of Michelle and Richard Kavanagh, was born thirteen years ago to this day. November thirtieth, to be exact. As you are Samuel Kavanagh, both born and hatched, you have two birthdays.’

  ‘Go with it,’ Bladder said. ‘More opportunities for cake. You’ll get one in May too.’

  ‘Now blow out your candles and wish for something,’ Wheedle said.

  Sam knew exactly what he wanted. He’d like to be able to celebrate this day with Richard and Michelle. If not today, then maybe the following year. It was all very well and good being their Samuel Kavanagh, the child they’d lost and found again, but rather pointless if they didn’t know the truth about it. He couldn’t even call them ‘Mum’ and ‘Dad’. He blew out the candles.

  ‘He looks in pain,’ Bladder said. ‘Is the cake all right?’

  ‘Made in Heaven,’ Daniel said.

  It tasted like it too. It was rich, deeply chocolatey, with a hint of joy running through it. Sam felt happy eating it.

  Bladder and Wheedle shoved their indelicate snouts into the soft spongy goodness and wolfed it down before eyeing the piece of cake Sam had just started.

  Wilfred, Amira and Hazel barely said anything. Their eyes closed as they mmmmed.

  Spigot and Yonah fed each other crumbs from their slices of cake. Wheedle seemed to find this entertaining and poked Bladder to watch, who smirked. Neither the stone eagle nor the dove paid attention to Wheedle and Bladder.

  Nugget got cake in her eyes. Daniel flung broken bits at the pigeons.

  Bladder burped. ‘’Scuse me. You got any Tummy Times?’ he asked the shifters. They shook their heads.

  Wheedle took out a blue packet from under his front leg and tossed it to Bladder. The gargoyle scoffed the lot and burped again.

  ‘What exactly are you eating that’s causing this trouble?’ Daniel asked. ‘How does a gargoyle’s digestive system even work? Where does it all go?’

  ‘Bit personal, don’t you think?’ Wheedle replied.

  Bladder belched. The smell that rode out was reminiscent of sugary sewerage or rubbish bins out the back of a sweet shop.

  ‘I’m getting tummy aches all the time.’ Bladder’s stone paled down to white marble.

  ‘And weird cravings. Do you think he’s pregnant?’ Wheedle asked. Sam guessed he was a little serious too. The arrival of Nugget had unnerved them, and all three grown-up gargoyles jumped whenever Sam sneezed.

  ‘What kind of weird cravings?’ Daniel asked.

  ‘Salad, boiled eggs, sandwiches, pie, fruit. Don’t worry, I haven’t given in to any of them. Oh, bother …’ Bladder ran to the edge of the building, and a heavy ‘yurk’ erupted from him. Everyone, birds included, turned their backs, pretending not to hear. Bladder would be deeply ashamed to be caught vomiting.

  ‘Is that normal for a gargoyle?’ Sam asked.

  ‘Not even slightly,’ Wheedle answered.

  CHAPTER 3

  ‘Sam, Nick. I’m off to the centre,’ Michelle yelled up the stairs, and with Sam’s window open, her voice carried to the roof. ‘Do you want to come?’

  ‘Not today, Mum,’ Nick replied.

  ‘That means she’s going in to town, doesn’t it?’ Amira asked. ‘Would she give us all a lift?’

  ‘I think so,’ Sam replied. ‘Just ask.’

  ‘You should come too, Sam. Spend the voucher I got you,’ Wilfred said.

  Sam held the voucher. It had ‘Happy Birthday, Sam’ written over it in Wilfred’s scrawl. Then he looked at the new notebook and jigsaw Amira and Hazel gave him. Both had dogs on them: specifically a Saluki and a Kokoni.

  ‘We better get you back on the pavement, then,’ Bladder said to the shifters.

  Sam popped into the house through his window, making sure to close it behind him. Nugget was getting far too curious, and if one of the older gargoyles didn’t watch her, she was likely to go off on her own.

  ‘Sam?’ Michelle called again.

  ‘Coming!’ He headed downstairs and saw Michelle giving Richard a fond farewell pat on the head. She turned and looked at the fridge again, sighing at that striking red heart.

  She strained a smile at Sam.

  It clicked. The hand-drawn heart on the calendar. It was a birthday. His birthday. Their original Sam’s. They would be quietly remembering when they lost him as an infant, not realising they’d got him back. Not realising their Sam’s soul was in the boy standing right next to them.

  ‘Are you all right, Michelle?’ Sam asked.

  ‘I didn’t sleep well last night,’ Michelle replied. ‘I think there’s another baby on the street. It woke me with its crying.’

  ‘I swear it sounded like it came from the roof,’ Richard said. ‘I thought I was dreaming.’

  ‘It’s just the way sound carries in these streets,’ Michelle said.

  Richard grunted. Beatrice looked sleepy, and Sam thought Richard looked ready to curl up next to her.

  The shifters were waiting on the pavement when they stepped outside. Wilfred was chatting to Hoy Poy, the neighbour’s pug, about the best lamb bones.

  Michelle smiled brighter this time. ‘Hello, you three. What are you doing here?’

  ‘Hello, Mrs Kavanagh,’ Hazel replied. ‘We just came to see Sam. Are you off?’

  ‘Yeh, sorry, everyone, I’m going to town to help Michelle,’ Sam replied.

  Hazel winked a bit too obviously.

  ‘I’m volunteering at the soup kitchen. Sam and Nick sometimes help me carry the boxes in. But that’s OK, Sam, you can go with your friends,’ Michelle said. ‘I can do it myself.’

  ‘Why don’t we come too?’ Hazel asked. ‘We can all help.’

  ‘That would be lovely,’ Michelle said.

  ‘Many hands make light work, Mrs Kavanagh,’ Amira said as she took a box from Michelle’s hands.

  Wilfred, Amira and Hazel jostled to see who would have a window seat. When Sam realised they all wanted one, he volunteered to sit in the middle-back. Even with the cold Channel wind flying up the streets, the three shifters put the windows down, and Michelle had to tell them three times to pull in their heads. Wilfred’s tongue hung out as they rounded the corner up to North Street.

  ‘Here we are,’ Michelle said. She opened the back of the car and the three shifters grabbed a box each, letting Sam lead the way to the kitchen.

  The group plunged down an alley marked by a cardboard sign that read ‘Lunch’ in big blue letters. A man sat on a blanket on the footpath with a plump beige dog next to him. The dog lifted her head slightly, politely sniffing the air as Sam and the shifters approached.

  * * *

  Kylie shot up as soon as she got a whiff of the first person coming down the alleyway. He looked like a boy, but he wasn’t one. He smelt like the red-haired woman, but he was chatting happily to the other three children behind him, and they had the distinct pong of people who lived with warm-hearted, lovely dogs … In fact, they didn’t just smell like they had dogs in the family but as if they were dogs. And the boy with the odd scent, well – now she whiffed deeper – there was a magical undercurrent there, like being a pup and rolling in high grass, or sleeping by a warm fire. There was cinnamon and nutmeg in it too, like the best of souls in one body. She swallowed her growl and cocked her head. It was very confusing.

  Russell startled at Sam’s footsteps. ‘Some guard dog you are.’ He shuffled inside his coat.

  Kylie saw the four children sniff at Russell. They wrinkled their noses. Russell stank, she knew it. They’d both slept in the alley outside the soup kitchen the previous night, and small spaces always held in a body’s sourness. Russell needed a shower.

  ‘They smell like dog lovers. I’m not barking at a friendly,’ Kylie told Russell. ‘They don’t much like your particular aroma though.’

  The odd-smelling boy’s cheeks reddened.

  ‘Comin
g through, coming through.’ A woman pushed past the kids and rummaged in her bag.

  ‘The kitchen’s not open for an hour,’ Russell said.

  ‘I know,’ the woman replied. ‘I’m here to get things started. The others will be along shortly.’

  ‘Are you in charge, missus?’

  The woman shook her head. ‘No, I just volunteer some Saturdays and make sure the supplies get here. Sometimes cut up some things for the crew. I’ve got four helpers today.’

  Kylie liked this woman. She didn’t talk to Russell the way un-homeless people normally did, all huffy and uncomfortable.

  ‘I’m all right waiting here, aren’t I?’ Russell asked.

  ‘Course you are. I’m Michelle. You new here?’

  ‘Nah, come here lots. Just not normally for Saturday lunch. My name’s Russell.’

  ‘Well, when the others get here, you get inside and grab a warm seat. Your dog too.’ Michelle leaned down and gave Kylie a scratch behind her ears.

  Kylie sniffed the kids again. Whatever she’d found odd about that boy, it was gone now.

  It must have been her nerves from the night before. It had taken Russell two hours to go back and retrieve his things, and that was only because he was so cold he couldn’t get to sleep. When they finally went back to get their stuff, he packed up and ran away so fast Kylie wondered if his arthritis had disappeared. Afterwards, he was jittery again. As he drifted off to sleep, somewhere around 2 a.m., he pulled her close and kept murmuring, ‘Was a weird dream, that’s all, just a dream.’ It had chilled Kylie’s tail to the tip, freezing her wag right out.

  The woman, Michelle, opened the door and ushered in the three doggy kids holding the boxes. Only the strange-smelling boy was left, and the scent got nicer every second. Kylie edged towards him.

  ‘Block his path like the mammoth you are, why don’t you?’ Russell said.

  Kylie rolled her eyes at this. Yep, Russell’s back in form.

  ‘She’s got a bit of Australian corgi in her,’ Russell said to the boy. ‘When I first got her she was blonde and slim, so I called her Kylie. Not so slim now, are you, darlin’?’

  Kylie snapped at his leg. ‘You wanna see how big a corgi can get when she’s eaten a lug called Russell?’ she barked. ‘Just keep fat-shaming the dog.’

  ‘She’s spirited too. I never know what will set her off,’ Russell said. ‘Been really grumpy lately.’

  ‘Because I’m stuck with an idiot who doesn’t know when he’s in danger and sometimes he can be a little insensitive. I’m just the right size for my breed, you know.’

  ‘You look lovely.’ The boy stared at her for a second then peered at Russell. ‘Maybe you shouldn’t say things about her weight. Corgis are supposed to be nice and chunky.’

  You read my mind, Kylie thought.

  Russell laughed. ‘Think the dog is sensitive, do you?’

  A delightful aroma wafted from the kitchen.

  ‘She’s got bacon.’ Kylie sighed. She never managed to get any of the scraps from the kitchen.

  ‘I’ll see if there‘s anything left,’ the boy said.

  Kylie gazed at the boy. He was watching her. ‘That almost sounded like you were talking to me,’ she said.

  ‘I was.’

  Kylie woofed.

  ‘What are you barking about now?’ Russell asked.

  ‘I think he understood me, ya drongo. Settle yourself, Kylie,’ the corgi told herself. ‘It’s probably just a coincidence.’ Still, she danced over to the kid’s legs. ‘If you answer this with a “yes”, I will love you for life. Could you could get me some bacon?’

  ‘Yes,’ the boy replied. ‘I will try to get you some bacon.’

  Kylie yapped like a pup and chased her tail; she’d never been so excited. He understood her! He really did.

  ‘Calm down, you idiot,’ Russell said to her. ‘They won’t let us in to lunch if you make too much noise.’

  The door opened again and the woman, Michelle, was there. ‘Sam,’ she said, ‘help me cut up some carrots.’

  The boy smiled at Kylie and walked past Michelle into the kitchen.

  She’d been so ecstatic he understood her, the woman’s words only registered to Kylie after the door shut.

  ‘What? She called him Sam? His name’s Sam!’ Kylie yapped at Russell, then she scratched at the door and yelped, ‘Let me in. Sam? Sam. I’ve gotta talk to you.’

  On the other side of the door, Sam listened to the dog calling him. She must really want bacon, he thought, so he grabbed a handful of fat and rind from Wilfred’s board.

  ‘Hey! She didn’t even say “please”. Don’t let her have it all,’ Wilfred whined.

  ‘She was grateful someone understood her. Hand it over. You can have some at your own house. Cooked,’ Hazel said.

  Amira grunted.

  They could hear Kylie still scratching at the door, barking, ‘Sam! Sam!’ Then she howled.

  ‘All right! All right!’ Wilfred dropped a few meatier bits into Sam’s hand.

  Sam went back out to the alley, cupping the cured fat and pork in his fingers. As soon as he appeared, Kylie settled.

  ‘Whatsat for?’ Russell asked.

  ‘She asked for it,’ Sam replied.

  ‘My dog talked to you?’

  Sam nodded. He knew real humans couldn’t understand dogs, but he couldn’t lie.

  ‘So, they let fruit cakes work here,’ Russell said to Kylie.

  ‘All this time,’ Kylie muttered to herself. ‘All this time.’ She grinned doggedly at Sam.

  ‘So, how long you been able to talk to animals?’ Russell asked, and chuckled.

  ‘Shut up and let the grown-ups talk.’ Kylie nipped Russell’s calf then sat down at Sam’s feet. ‘Sam, I need you to tell Russell he was out last night across from Churchill Square. A red-haired woman almost throttled him.’

  ‘A red-haired woman?’ Sam asked.

  Russell startled. ‘What about a red-haired woman?’

  ‘Your dog said one almost throttled you last night.’

  ‘She did?’ Russell gulped. He stared at Sam. Then at Kylie.

  Sam listened as the dog told a hurried and horrid story about the previous night. Kylie managed to yap out the whole thing while taking quick mouthfuls of bacon.

  After the dog finished, Sam zipped up his jacket against the sudden chill.

  ‘You’re the Sam she’s looking for, aren’t you?’ Kylie asked.

  The door opened and the shifters returned to the alley. ‘I finished cutting your carrots for you,’ Amira said. She peered at him. ‘You don’t look well, Sam.’

  ‘What? Who’s Maggie?’ Russell asked.

  ‘The red-haired woman. You need to stay away from her,’ Sam said to Russell. ‘She’s dangerous.’

  ‘Tell him about his friend,’ Kylie said.

  ‘She sprinkled Markie a few nights ago …’ Sam started.

  ‘Maxie,’ Kylie yapped.

  ‘Maxie,’ Amira corrected.

  Russell looked between Kylie and Amira. ‘Nope, Kylie did not say that. It’s some sort of trick. A trick.’ Russell’s face paled so much his lips went white, but Sam could see understanding unfold on his face. It looked painful. ‘Did my dog really tell you all that?’ Russell gave a resigned sigh. ‘She was pretty. Young and pretty, but scary, then … she changed …’ Russell said.

  ‘Into an old crone,’ Hazel finished. ‘Yeah, Sam’s told us about her.’

  ‘And you know she’s dangerous.’ Sam met Russell’s gaze, willing the man to believe him. ‘You ran away from your swag and didn’t go back for ages.’

  ‘Kylie really told you all that?’ Russell asked. His voice had dropped to a whisper.

  ‘She did. And she also doesn’t like your rude comments about her weight.’

  Kylie nipped Russell at that point to prove it.

  Russell’s eyes were ringed in blue circles.

  ‘What are you going to do, Sam?’ Hazel asked.

  ‘She said she ha
d a message for Sam. A warning,’ Russell said. ‘Something about him being in danger, about someone “talkin’ like waves”. Didn’t make any sense.’

  ‘Stay off the streets, if you can,’ Sam said.

  ‘How are we supposed to stay off the streets?’ Russell asked. ‘It’s where I live. Don’t have a nice home to lob up to.’

  Sam dropped a little more of the bacon, but Kylie ignored it. ‘I don’t want Russell hurt again, Sam, and she’s been coming at us homeless lot for a while. We can’t just avoid her.’

  Sam felt deflated. ‘Well, it’s me she wants. If you see her this evening, tell her I’ll be in town tomorrow night. I can’t avoid her forever either.’

  CHAPTER 4

  That night, Sam couldn’t sleep. He sat on the Kavanagh roof with his eyes closed. It was 2 a.m.

  Daniel had visited, hung around for two minutes, then flown off, saying he’d find out what could be done. He hadn’t returned, and Sam had given up on seeing the angel again that night and was waiting for his thoughts to settle so he could go back to bed. Time seemed to slow when he was tired.

  He wasn’t getting much conversation out of anyone else. Wheedle lay belly up on the tiles and rock solid like a toppled statue. Bladder had slid off to the furthest corner of the roof and was rocking Nugget in gentle paw. The tiny gargoyle whined at him. When Bladder thought someone was watching, he grimaced as if it were all too difficult, but as soon as Wheedle fell to stony sleep, the lion’s face softened and he purred at the baby gargoyle. Spigot looked content with Yonah snoozing on his back, peering over his shoulder repeatedly as if he was worried the dove might disappear.

  Time whispered on. Eventually even Nugget fell asleep between Bladder’s paws and the lion gargoyle turned to stone to stand over and protect the baby. Sam put his back to them and tried hard to fall into a nap.

  The air whooshed and in a blurring glow of white Daniel sat next to him, his legs dangling by Sam’s over the edge of the roof. They sat together in silence for a bit and watched owls wing from tree to tree through the park opposite.

  ‘She’s getting desperate to find you,’ Daniel said finally.