I asked her if Sixpence was okay, and she assured me she was fine – just having an adventure for a while. I asked if I could visit the other guinea pigs but Mrs Johnson said she thought it would be better if I waited until Sixpence came home, and we could talk about it then. I noticed she kept putting her hand up to her cheek, and I wondered how she got the yellow bruise on it. I heard Mr J’s mother calling out from the kitchen behind her.

‘Hasn’t that girl caused you enough grief? Tell her to go back to her saintly mother.’

I didn’t know what kind of trouble I could have caused, but it didn’t seem to be the time to ask. I just stood and looked at her for a moment, and then remembered my manners and said, ‘Thank you very much for your time,’ and turned around. I felt my heart race again but in a very bad way this time, and I started to run. I ran and ran and ran, crying a bit as I did, making little unhappy groaning sort of noises to fill up the quiet which was too sad. I ran right around the block and back to our olive grove. I climbed my favourite branch and just moaned because I didn’t know where Sixpence was and I wasn’t sure I believed Mrs Johnson.

I was pretty sure I would never be happy again, so I just let myself cry and whimper for a very long time. Teddy Edwards turned up under the tree at one stage, and asked if I was okay, but I just picked some olives and threw them at him to make him go away, which he did.

I couldn’t quite catch my breath. My heart was aching and aching. I just kept seeing my little baby and remembering stroking her and talking to her. I remembered her little swirly coat and the cute way she sniffed at me. I remembered all the cowlicks on her back and head. I wished I hadn’t waited to go to see her. This was all my fault for being afraid of Mr Johnson. If I hadn’t been so cowardly, I would have been back to visit and I could have asked Mrs Johnson not to let him build that gate. They probably thought I didn’t really care enough about Sixpence anyway, and that’s why he decided to take my baby to the museum. If I’d been to see her, he would have taken one of the other ones that were spare. This was my fault.

I dreamed up plans to rescue Sixpence. I would take the bus into town to the museum and check she was okay, and then, when no one was looking, I would pick up the cage and run away. I wasn’t sure if you could take a guinea-pig cage on the bus, but you can take seeing-eye dogs on public transport, so I could say I had to have her with me for medical reasons. I would ask Mr Driver if I could hide her in his garden until Christmas, and I would make sure I was the best-behaved child in the world so Dad would build her a cage. I didn’t have any pocket money for the bus, but I knew Ruthy had money in her Savings Bank of South Australia tin, and I would ask her if I could have it. If she said no, I would just open it anyway with the key stuck on the bottom of it. Although that would mean I would be in trouble again and it would be harder to get Dad to build me a cage, but it was the best plan I could think of, and I had to hope and hope and hope she was really at the museum and not down the creek and already a cat’s dinner. That made me start to cry again, so I just thought about saving her instead, so I could have a fierce rescue plan.