The minimice put their heads cautiously round the wooden door in the wall.
‘All clear!’ sang out Milly Minimouse.
‘What do you mean, you idiot?!’ squeaked her brother. ‘There’s a cat in the window over there! Look!’
In a flurry, the mice took cover under a nearby rose bush. As they were still quite green themselves, they were nicely camouflaged. The camouflage was nice, but the rose prickles were not. The mice rushed out onto the lawn squeaking and covered in thorns.
Griselda pricked up her ears, twirled her whiskers and put her dreams to one side for the moment. The morning had just got a whole lot more interesting.
Hildegard was clearing away breakfast and singing.
‘Just going into the garden…’ said Griselda casually.
Hildegard swooshed everything into the sink and turned on the taps full blast. Water went everywhere.
‘Yes, of course, dear,’ said Hildegard, seeming not to notice the flood. ‘And do leave the mice alone, won’t you.’
‘How did you know about the mice?’ demanded Griselda, amazed and indignant. ‘You’re not even looking!’
‘Oh, you know…’ said Hildegard vaguely, and went off to find her wellies.
Griselda ground her teeth and started to sulk. Just then, the telephone rang. Griselda stopped grinding her teeth and grumpily went to answer it.
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