The next day was, unsurprisingly for April in England, cold and rainy. Harry awoke feeling revitalised, giving Sophia a kiss on the neck before making his way downstairs to prepare breakfast.

Clara and Poppy were already in the kitchen. “Feeling better Dad?” Poppy chimed.

“Yes thanks, just needed a good night’s sleep! Who feels like a Full English?” They both nodded enthusiastically and Harry set to work creating his speciality – bacon, eggs, mushrooms, baked beans and a hash brown for good measure.

The accompanying coffee was just coming to boil when Sophia joined them in the kitchen. She sat down, while Clara hopped up to help take the plates to the table.

“That’s weird” she said, as she approached her father, “have I grown?”

“What do you mean?” Harry replied, quizzically raising his eyebrows.

“Look at me – we’re pretty much eye to eye. You’re six foot so I must have shot up!” she beamed.

Sophia stood up and joined the two of them by the stove. “You’re right Clara” she acknowledged, “Harry, you’re only about an inch taller than her now. We must be feeding you too well Clar – nearly six foot!”

Clara turned toward Sophia looking puzzled “But Mum, you’re the same size too. We can’t both have grown that much. Dad, you can’t be getting smaller can you?”

Harry blushed, “Of course not darling, that sort of thing doesn’t happen until I’m really old. You’re right though – you have both shot up. Poppy, can you fetch the measuring tape, let’s see whether you’ve hit six foot yet?”

Poppy obliged and, Clara stepping on the end of the tape, Harry told her to stand straight. He brought the tape measure up to the top of her head. “Five foot six. Hmm, you haven’t grown after all,” he said.

“But Dad” said Poppy, with a glint in her eye and a mischievous grin forming “that means . . . you must be shrinking!”

Leaving Clara to look after Poppy, Sophia and Harry jumped into the car and set off to see the local doctor. Harry had, by now, began to panic. How had this happened? What was the cure? How small was he going to get?

They pulled into the surgery, and after a nervous half hour wait, Doctor Christie saw them.

Harry explained the morning’s events leading to their shocking discovery. If the wizened Doctor was surprised, he concealed it effectively and set to work performing various tests and taking Harry’s vitals – blood pressure, normal, height, five foot five – he’d already become smaller than his wife and eldest daughter. The process continued for the next twenty minutes, punctuated only by the Doctor’s wheezy intakes of breath and scribbles on his notepad.

Finally, he rolled his chair back and delivered his verdict:

“I’m afraid, Mr Cooper, you have an ailment called hypercontractyosis. It’s as you feared. Up until now, it’s not something we have record of ever seeing in a human subject, only really in a few films. Have you ever seen ‘The Incredible Shrinking Man’?”

Harry heart sunk – he really was shrinking. He was in shock.

“Is there a cure?” he stammered.

“As I said, there’s no record of a human ever having contracted the disease – we haven’t therefore begun our studies to remedy the condition” said the Doctor. “I’d like to undertake some further tests and we will of course keep you updated on our progress.”

They drove home in silence.

Harry was shrinking. There was no cure. He had no idea how small he would get or how quickly it would happen. The future right now was too terrible to imagine. He just hoped his wife and kids would look after him until a cure was found.

“Don’t worry darling, the girls and I will make sure you’re ok” said Sophia as if having read his mind.

“Thanks Soph” Harry said gratefully, as they went inside to break the news to their daughters.