Flora and Dora slowly squirmed into the basket and began to eat ravenously. Rosie fastened the straps as quickly and quietly as she could and then carried them carefully into the bar, surprised at how heavy they were. She picked up the keys Beryl had dropped through the letter box after locking up, and went outside.

It was now past two in the morning and the streets were deserted, the blackout intense, but at least the fog seemed to have lifted, which augured well for the journey she would be making later. She cautiously switched on her torch and slowly made her way past the shuttered shops towards Beach View.

‘And where do you think you’re going at this time of night?’

Rosie nearly jumped out of her skin as Sergeant Albert Williams loomed out of the deep gloom of a shop doorway. ‘Good grief, Bert,’ she gasped, clutching at her thudding chest. ‘You almost gave me heart failure. Don’t you ever go home?’

‘Not if I can help it,’ he replied, eyeing the cat basket and the torch. ‘The wife’s a far harder taskmaster than my inspector.’ He nodded towards the torch. ‘You’re breaking the blackout, Rosie. By rights I should fine you.’

‘Please don’t do that, Bert. I’ve had a bad enough day as it is, and I need to get these ferrets back to Ron. He must have mislaid them when he came serenading the other night, and is probably frantic by now.’

‘Aye. I reckon Ron mislaid a good many things that night – including his dignity,’ the policeman replied with a smile. ‘Why don’t I deliver them to Beach View for you? It’s too late for you to be roaming about on your own – you never know who might be lurking about and up to no good.’

‘That would be very kind of you, as long as you don’t mind.’

Bert took the basket. ‘It’s a bit early for house calls, so I’ll take them back to the station and deliver them once it’s light.’ He grinned broadly. ‘It’s been a while since I had my own ferrets, so it’ll be a pleasure to keep them company.’

‘Thanks, Bert.’ Rosie hesitated, wondering if she should ask him to pass on a message, and then decided not to. Albert Williams knew everyone’s business, and his wife had a way of getting it out of him so she could spread it all over town – and what she had to tell Ron was very private. ‘Goodnight then,’ she said.

‘Goodnight, Rosie,’ he replied, his curiosity about what she was doing out and about at this time of the morning still clear in his expression.