Kitty’s dad didn’t mention the toast. He couldn’t imagine a mouse being strong enough to carry such a large amount of food. So he concluded it could only have been taken by a rat. And he dreaded the upheaval if Mum thought there were rats hidden in the living room. He looked round in despair. What would she do? Block off the fireplaces? Install a new floor?
In the event, Mum was quite laid back about the disappearance of the visiting hamster. ‘Emma never looked after it properly anyway,’ she said.
‘I know, Mum,’ said Kitty. ‘But it’s one thing for Emma not to look after him, and another for me to lose him.’
‘They had a guinea-pig – do you remember? It was eaten by an urban fox.’
‘That wasn’t Emma’s fault.’
‘Their lizard,’ Mum continued, ignoring the plea, ‘died of cold when their electricity was cut off.’
‘It wasn’t Emma’s fault…’
‘And their tropical fish? Do you remember that disaster?’
‘Mum, I’d still rather not go to school on Monday morning and say Sorry, Emma – lost your hamster.’
Mum looked sharply round the room.
‘It disappeared in seconds, you say.’
‘Honestly, Mum – one second. Radish was beside me on the sofa. The next, he’d just vanished.’
‘Then there’s only one explanation,’ said Mum. ‘Sherlock Holmes: when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.’
‘So,’ asked Dad, ‘where is he?’
‘He could have run out on to the landing,’ said Mum, ‘but then one of you would have seen him. He could have climbed into the piano, but he isn’t there – you’ve searched it. And you’ve looked under all the furniture and in the cupboard. So he must be hiding up the chimney.’
She lay down near the opening of the fireplace and peered up into the blackness. ‘I can‘t see him, but I’m sure he’s up there somewhere. If you put a dish of food down beside the hearthstone and a little dish of water, he’ll come when he’s hungry.’