*But it's the middle of summer . . .' I was dazed and confused. My legs were shaking. I'd dropped the magnifying glass. When I looked around, I saw that I was in the big front room, near the tellers' counter. *How did I get up here?' I demanded, with mounting alarm. *Who brought me?'

*You need something hot. With sugar in it,' Dr Plackett decreed. *Come and sit down in the living room.'

*Did I have another blackout?' Suddenly I spotted Fergus and Amin. They were standing together some distance away, looking utterly clueless. *Hey! You guys! Was I drugged?'

They shook their heads slowly. Even Fergus seemed to be at a loss. For once he didn't crack any smart-arse jokes or make any hair-raising suggestions. He just stood there like a little kid.

*Come on, mate.' Having released me (at long last), Reuben put his arm around my shoulders. *You'll be fine. I know it's tough at first, but you'll get over it.'

*What happened?' I still couldn't work it out. Then I saw that we were retracing our steps. *Oh, no,' I squawked, digging my heels in. *No way. I'm not going back down there.'

*You won't have to,' Father Ramon assured me. *We're not going downstairs. Sanford's living room is on the other side of the stairwell.'

*But that thing . . .' I couldn't finish. When I shuddered, Reuben frowned.

*What thing?' he asked.

*In the a" in the vault . . .'

*There's nothing in the vault,' said Dr Plackett. He turned to my friends. *Tell him. Did you see anything?'

Once more, Amin and Fergus shook their heads.

*You're just scared of yourself, Toby. That's all,' Reuben theorised. *Come and sit down and we'll talk about it.' As he nudged me back into the stairwell, he and Dr Plackett began to argue about whose job it had been to buy lemonade. Nina kept patting my arm while Father Ramon hurried ahead into the living room. Nina's grandmother was bringing up the rear; she had rescued my backpack, which Fergus and Amin had forgotten to pick up.

*Here,' she said, shoving it at Fergus. * You take this. I've got arthritis.'

The living-room walls were covered in paintings. That was the first thing I noticed when I crossed the threshold: all those splodgy flowers hanging from the picture rails. Then I saw that the paintings matched the carpet, which was printed with an old-fashioned floral pattern. Even the cushions had flowers on them. Everywhere you looked there were flowers.

*Is this really where you live?' I asked Dr Plackett, who didn't seem like a flowery kind of guy. I would have expected to see nautical maps and tartan rugs in his house. Then I spotted a sepia photograph of a puffy-haired woman wearing a huge hat covered in flowers, and suddenly it all made sense. Of course. This wasn't his taste; it was hers. *I guess that's your mother, hey?'

*Uh . . . y-e-e-es.' For some reason, the doctor didn't seem one-hundred-per-cent sure. He waved at an antique sofa with a dip in its back and a curled animal claw at the end of each leg. *Sit down,' he ordered. *Have a scone.'

So I sat down. To be honest, I was glad to; my knees were still trembling, and I wanted to get away from Reuben. I didn't realise that he was going to sit down right next to me.

Then Bridget suddenly spoke, making me jump. I hadn't seen her because she was practically engulfed by the flowery, overstuffed wingback chair in which she was huddled.

*What would you like on your scone, dear?' she queried, in her cracked little voice. *Jam and cream, or just butter?'

*Um . . .' I had to clear my throat. *Actually I'm a" uh a" not very hungry.'

*Tea?'

*No, thanks.'

Around me the room was filling up. Nina had found an ottoman. Dr Plackett was perched on a piano stool. Fergus and Amin were both wedged into a kind of miniature pew with a carved back and a padded seat. Only the priest remained standing.

*When does your mother expect you back?' he asked. When I told him 11:30 pm, he checked his watch. *Not much time,' he observed. *We'd better get a move on.'

But no one seemed to know how. We exchanged uncertain looks until finally Nina said, *Maybe Toby has some questions he'd like answered.'

Yet again, all eyes swivelled towards me. The attention left me tongue-tied; I had so many questions that I couldn't decide where to begin. I wanted to say, *How do you know each other? Why are you doing this? Where do you live? What are you really here for?' The trouble was, all these words became tangled up on their way out. They stuck in my larynx.

After a long pause, Dr Plackett finally declared, *I think we should treat this like an ordinary meeting. Reuben, why don't you tell us your life story?'

Reuben scowled. *You already know my life story,' he replied.

*Toby doesn't.'

*Yes, he does. I told him about being locked up. I told him why it's important that he doesn't shoot his mouth off.' Reuben glared at Fergus. *I told him we need to keep a low profile, if we don't want to cop a lot of abuse.'

*That's right,' said Father Ramon. Then he turned to me. *"Werewolf" is a very emotive word. It has bad connotations. But it's a word that's bound to be used if the general public finds out about your condition, Toby. At which point you'll become a target for hatred and prejudice and violence.'

*Like I did,' Reuben broke in. *And poor old Danny Ruiz. Remember I told you about Danny? He's the one who lives in the desert.'

There was a muted murmur; clearly, I wasn't the only one who had been told about Danny Ruiz. Nina shook her head sadly. Father Ramon sighed.

*Danny's really messed up,' Reuben continued. *He can't cope with other people. He's not a big threat now, but if anyone ever came after him with a camera . . .'

He trailed off. There was more solemn head-shaking. At last Dr Plackett said, *That unfortunate man is damaged. He needs help. If only he'd get some therapy, he'd be a lot better off.'

*Sanford, he'd eat you for breakfast,' Reuben rejoined. Then he flushed as Estelle chuckled. *I mean a" not literally, but . . . you know.'

*Metaphorically speaking,' said the priest.

*Yeah.'

*I do think we should keep trying, though,' Bridget quavered. *We can't just abandon him because he's so hard to help, poor thing.'

Reuben shifted impatiently. *Yeah, but you haven't met him, Bridge. None of you have. You dunno what he's like a" the guy's a full-on menace. He totally freaked me out.' Catching my eye, Reuben was quick to offer reassurance. *I'm not saying he's crazy because of his condition. It's the way he was treated. Anyone would start to lose it after being treated like an animal for twenty-odd years.'

*It's post-traumatic,' was Dr Plackett's diagnosis.

*Yeah. I guess,' Reuben agreed, his gaze still boring into me. *See, Danny never learned how to trust people. No one ever helped him. I was rescued, but Danny wasn't. He escaped from that underground tank all by himself, and then he went bush. I only found him because . . . well . . .'

He hesitated, furiously rubbing his jaw. It was the priest who finished his sentence for him.

*Because Danny's kidnappers had a change of heart,' said Father Ramon. When Nina raised her eyebrows, he added, *In a manner of speaking.'

*A change of heart. Yeah, right,' Reuben said drily. *I guess you could call it that.'

*I think we should call it that,' said Dr Plackett. *Since we're all friends now.'

Only Bridget, however, backed him up. Though she began to nod and smile in an encouraging way, no one else seemed very enthusiastic. Estelle sniffed. Reuben glowered. Even the priest looked doubtful.

*Speak for yourself!' Nina snapped. *Personally, I don't care if I never see the McKinnons ever again!'

*Hear, hear,' said Reuben a" much to Bridget's distress. Her forehead puckered and her smile began to fade.

Father Ramon eyed Reuben reproachfully. *The McKinnons are doing their best, Reuben, and they've been very helpful.'

*Hah!'

*If it weren't for the McKinnons, we wouldn't have found Danny,' the priest insisted. He flicked me an inquiring glance. *Has Toby heard about the McKinnons?'

*Oh, yeah. He's heard about the McKinnons, all right.' Reuben answered before I could. *I told him how they locked me in an underground tank and made me fight in a pita"'

*Not anymore, though,' Dr Plackett said firmly. *Credit where credit's due.'

*That's right,' Father Ramon concurred. *They want to repair the damage they've done.' Ignoring Reuben's sneer, he began to elaborate, still watching me closely. *When the McKinnons were making their money off blood sports, they had a friend who used to alert them to various dog attacks around the state. This friend was a dogger, so he was always the first to hear about wild dog activity.' My blank expression made him falter for an instant. *Do you know what a dogger is?' he asked.

I shook my head.

*Doggers hunt wild dogs,' Reuben volunteered. *They trap 'em and shoot 'em.'

*And this particular dogger used to collect a small fee every time he gave the McKinnons a good tip.' Father Ramon went on to recount how the McKinnons had never informed their dogger friend that they were no longer in the business of kidnapping people. So the dogger was still conveying news of the latest sheep losses, which the McKinnons, in turn, were relaying to Reuben. *They told us about some attacks near Dubbo last year, and Reuben went out there to investigate,' the priest finished. *Which is how he located poor Danny.'

*See, he wasn't properly organised,' Reuben explained. *Danny, I mean. He'd been taking precautions, but they weren't good enough. You can't just chain yourself up every full moon a" it doesn't work. After a few months of really rough treatment, something's always gunna give. Like a link or a bolt or something.'

*Which is what happened to Danny,' said Nina.

*Which is what happened to Danny,' Reuben confirmed. *He kept yanking at that chain until he pulled it out. Then he ended up killing his own dogs, poor bugger.' There was a regretful clicking of tongues all around the room. *I told him, you need a secure facility . So we fixed up an old mine shafta"'

*I don't think Toby's too interested in the details, love,' Estelle suddenly remarked. She was grinding her cigarette stub into a brass ashtray. *Not right now, at least.'

*Good lord, no.' Dr Plackett was peering at the clock on the mantelpiece. *We're running out of time.'

*The point we're trying to make, Toby, is that you're not the first person we've approached. And you probably won't be the last,' Father Ramon declared. He spoke in a slightly formal manner, as if he were delivering a sermon. *Because although you have an extremely rare condition, you're not alone.'

*Not by a long shot,' said the doctor. *We're here to help.'

*Any support you might need, whether practical or emotional a" all you have to do is ask,' Father Ramon continued. *Every one of us in this room has a special burden to carry, and we know that a shared burden is always much lighter. "Woe to him that is alone when he falleth, for he hath not another to help him up."'

*Amen,' Bridget muttered.

The priest ploughed on. *We're here because we believe that we have a responsibility both to you, as a fellow human being in trouble, and to society as a whole. And we each have something special to contribute, whether it be advice or comforta"'

*a"or a wine cellar.' Reuben weighed in. Seeing Nina grimace, he went on the defensive. *What? Aren't we gunna talk about the wine cellar?'

Estelle flapped her hand at him. *For God's sake, take it easy, will you?' she croaked, between coughs. *The poor kid's still reeling.'

*Yeah, but there isn't much time. ' Reuben was becoming restless. He didn't just turn his head to look at me; his whole body spun around. *We've got a friend who's got a wine cellar,' he explained. *It needs a bit of work, but we think it would be a really good option for you. And it's not too far away a" it's in Haberfield.' He paused, then began to twitch and fidget when I didn't respond. *We can't both go in the bank vault, mate, we'd rip each other apart!'

Still I couldn't say anything. I sat there dumbly, my mind a blank, only vaguely aware of Reuben's impatience, and Nina's sympathetic regard, and the plate of scones hovering under my nose.

*Are you sure you won't have one?' Bridget offered, in a gesture of helpless goodwill.

*No, thanks.' My voice was barely audible. Amin was chewing on his thumbnail, round-eyed.

*Listen, Toby.' Dr Plackett leaned forward in a brisk, no-nonsense fashion, his bony hands clasped between his knees. *We'll show you the wine cellar before you make any final decisions a" don't worry about that. You'd be involved in the whole renovation process.'

*Oh, sure,' said Reuben. *And we'd be doing most of the work ourselves, so it wouldn't cost you much.'

*It wouldn't cost you anything ,' the doctor corrected, still talking to me. *Maybe when you're older, with a good job and a solid asset base, you can make your own contribution. The way Reuben has.'

*And of course you're free to consult your mother,' Father Ramon advised. The rumble of protest that greeted this announcement made him add, *As long as you're able to convince her that we have your best interests at heart.'

*And hers, too,' Estelle pointed out. *God knows, I wouldn't want to be sharing a bathroom with Toby, next time he has a bad spell.'

*No, no. Of course not.' Dr Plackett took over again. *But if you don't think your mother can be persuaded, Toby, we'll have to arrange some kind of cover story. Maybe your friends can help.' Focusing his gimlet eye on Amin and Fergus, he addressed them with barely concealed distaste. *I daresay you all take part in the occasional overnight camping trip, or some such thing . . .?'

Amin gawked. Fergus said, * Camping trip? ' as if he'd never heard anything so ridiculous in his whole life.

*You must have sleepovers,' Nina suggested. Then she appealed to me. *Don't you have sleepovers?'

I didn't want to be rude. I really wanted to answer her. But it was a huge effort. *I've stayed at Amin's house a couple of times,' was all that I could manage, even after a lot of throat-clearing and lip-moistening.

It seemed to satisfy the doctor, though.

*There you are, then. We can sort something out,' he said. *The important thing is that the police don't get involved. We simply can't afford to alert them.'

*Because of me,' Reuben confessed.

*Not just because of youa"'

*Because I've killed people. Lots of people. I could go to gaol for that.'

*But you weren't in your right mind,' Estelle cut in, with the fretful air of someone who's argued the same point a million times before. *All you'd have to do is plead insanitya"'

*a"and get put in a hospital for the criminally insane! No thanks ,' barked Reuben. Dr Plackett, however, wasn't about to be diverted. He kept soldiering on, doggedly making his case.

*We can't risk any kind of public exposure,' he informed me. *If the police find out, the media will find out. Which would be disastrous.'

*Why?' Fergus demanded. He had regained some of his in-your-face confidence; as everyone stared at him, he stared right back, defiantly. *I don't get it. Werewolves are cool. People love werewolves.'

Reuben bared his teeth. *You don't know what you're talking about,' he snapped.

*Yes, I do. It doesn't make sense. Why shouldn't Toby be famous? Why shouldn't he earn lots of money from going on tv?' Before Reuben could say anything else, Fergus began to harangue me, his excitement increasing with every new scenario. *I bet you'd be famous all over the world! ' he exclaimed. *I bet they'd fly you to America and everything! They might even make a movie about you!'

*That's right,' said Nina flatly. *Toby would be famous. Wherever he decided to go, people would know who he was. All the scientists who'd want to treat him like a lab rat, and all the crazies who'd want to get rid of an unnatural freak, and all the evil billionaires who'd pay big money to have a stuffed werewolf a" all those people would know who Toby was.'

Snubbed, Fergus began to deflate beneath her sombre regard. Then Father Ramon spoke up.

*It's one thing to enjoy werewolves when they're part of a paranormal fantasy world,' he said. *It's another thing when that fantasy becomes reality.'

*I mean, we can't pretend we're harmless, right?' Though still flushed, Reuben was keeping his anger in check. *It's not like we're fairies or unicorns. We've had a hundred years of bad press a" that's not going to disappear in a hurry.'

*It's like vampires,' Estelle proposed. For some reason, this comment didn't seem to go down very well; a slight tension was noticeable in the atmosphere as she went on. *If vampires were real, someone out there would want to kill every one of 'em. Just because they have a bad reputation.'