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For Frankie, the boy with the beautiful smile. Contents Dedication
1 - Prawn-Cocktail-Crisp Breath
2 - A Very Special Little Girl
23 - The Pulverisation Machine!
About the Publisher Thank yous: I would like to thank the following people, in order of importance: Ann-Janine Murtagh, my boss at HarperCollins. I love you, I adore you. Thank you so much for believing in me, but most of all, thank you for being you. Nick Lake, my editor. You know I think you are the absolute best in the business, but also thank you so much for helping me NOT ONLY grow as a writer, but also as a man. Paul Stevens, my literary agent. I wouldn’t pay you 10% plus VAT for making a few phone calls if I didn’t feel completely blessed to be represented by you. Tony Ross. You are the most talented illustrator in the price range we had available. Thank you. James Stevens and Elorine Grant, the designers. Thanks. Lily Morgan, the copy editor. Cheers. Sam White, the publicity manager. Geraldine Stroud, the publicity director. Ta. Meet the characters in this story: On his back. Legs in the air. Dead. With tears running down her cheeks, Zoe opened the cage. Her hands were shaking and her heart was breaking. As she laid Gingernut’s little furry body down on the worn carpet, she thought she would never smile again. “Sheila!” called Zoe, as loudly as she could. Despite her father’s repeated pleas, Zoe refused to call her stepmother ‘Mum’. She never had, and she vowed to herself that she never would. No one could replace Zoe’s mum – not that her stepmother ever even tried. “Shut ya face. I’m watchin’ TV and stuffin’ meself!” came the woman’s gruff voice from the lounge. “It’s Gingernut!” called Zoe. “He’s not well!” This was an understatement. Zoe had once seen a hospital drama on the telly where a nurse tried to revive a dying old man, so she desperately attempted to give her hamster mouth-to-mouth resuscitation by blowing very gently into his open mouth. That didn’t work. Neither did connecting the rodent’s little heart to an AA battery with a paper clip. It was just too late. The hamster was cold to the touch, and he was stiff. “Sheila! Please help…!” shouted the little girl. At first Zoe’s tears came silently,
