Free Switchers by Kate Thompson Page A

car.
    ‘House,’ said Nose Broken by a Mousetrap, twitching her nose along the path.
    ‘House, huh?’ said Kevin.
    ‘House, yep. Little old lady. Yep, yep. Careful. Cats. Many cats. Follow soak-away pipe. Passage through hollow walls, comes out above the fireplace. Cats can’t reach.’ She touched noses with each of them and said: ‘Nose Broken by a Mousetrap visiting her grandchildren. No hair yet. Many streets.’ And with that she was gone, back through the hedge and out of their lives.
    ‘House,’ said Kevin, and started running down the track. But this time Tess didn’t follow.
    ‘Freeze!’ she said.
    He did, instantly. Tess looked up and down the track. She sniffed the air and listened carefully for a while. They were well hidden from the road by a bend in the track, and the hedges were high on either side. With a sigh of relief, she Switched into human form, and after a moment or two, Kevin did the same.
    Tess hollowed her back, stretched her arms above her head, and then swung them around like a windmill, all those things that a rat can’t do. Then she sighed again and sat down against the base of a tree where the ground was free from snow.
    ‘Shove up,’ said Kevin.
    Tess moved over, turning away from him, and he squeezed in beside her with his back against hers. ‘What did you do that for?’ he said.
    ‘Do what?’
    ‘Change.’
    ‘We’re going to see a little old lady, aren’t we?’
    ‘Yes. But she obviously speaks Rat, doesn’t she? How else could she have sent the others looking for us, huh?’
    ‘Don’t “huh?” me,’ snapped Tess. ‘I’m fed up with being a rat. That wasn’t part of the deal as far as I’m concerned. It’s all right for you. You’re used to it. Maybe too used to it.’
    ‘Oh,’ said Kevin, ‘like that, is it? Well, maybe you’re too used to being a rotten human. We didn’t make the stinking sewers and slimy drainpipes, you know? You did. We don’t leave rubbish thrown around all over the place. It’s your lot who does that. You’re lucky you’ve got us to clean up after you!’
    Tess was staring at him, open-mouthed.
    ‘What’s wrong?’ he said.
    ‘What do you mean, “us”?’
    Kevin looked at the ground and gathered a small lump of snow in his hand.
    ‘What do you mean, Kevin?’ Tess went on. ‘What are you trying to say?’
    ‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘It’s just that I’m not good at being a boy. With rats you know where you stand even if it isn’t always pleasant. But I don’t understand people properly. They say one thing and they mean another. I don’t know how to look at them and I don’t understand the way they look at me.’
    Tess looked around her. A weak morning sun was pouring yellow light through the branches and picking out specks of brilliance in the thin snow. Above their heads the birds were chatting quietly, not too concerned by their presence but aware of it all the same.
    ‘I don’t either, Kevin,’ she said, gently. ‘I’m not sure anybody does. That’s just the way people are.’
    ‘That’s fair enough I suppose,’ he said. ‘But it doesn’t give me a good reason to bother with them.’
    ‘You keep saying “them”, or “you”, as if you don’t belong. But you do. You’re the same as any of us when it comes down to it.’
    ‘Am I, Tess?’
    ‘Of course you are! We’re all the same underneath.’
    Kevin sighed deeply and tilted back his head so that it rested, just for an instant, against hers.
    They walked together down the path until the house came into view. It was a tiny place and quite ancient, completely at odds with the surrounding wealth and grandeur. A few hens picked at the grass around the front door, and a troop of ducks that were puddling around in the mud beside an outside tap took offence at the presence of strangers and waddled away in a line, quacking contemptuously.
    The little old lady heard them and came to the door.
    ‘At last,’ she said. ‘I thought you’d never get