It was amazing how much stuff one little mouse needed to keep it happy. I staggered home with two huge carrier bags and one very small, perforated box. By the time I had her cage and nest all nicely arranged and had installed her in it, the nice man from the pub had arrived and dropped off my new computer and monitor, and he was so kind he insisted on carrying them up to my little study under the eaves, before going off with the cash, whistling.

Jackie’s daughter, Mel, came round to help me set up my new computer, and she brought me a keyboard and mouse she didn’t want any more. When I told her how much my new computer cost she said it was hot, and I said I thought it was pretty trendy myself, actually, and what should I do with my old one?

‘I’ll advertise it on eBay for you,’ she offered. ‘It’s such an antique bit of junk there’s bound to be someone out there mad enough to buy it … and is that a live mouse you’ve got over there?’

‘Yes, that’s Minnie. Your mother said the new computers gave off tons of negative energy and would damage my karma, so I thought if I got a mouse and it suddenly keeled over, like canaries used to do in mines, I’d know she was right.’

‘Are you serious?’ she asked, looking at me nervously, though I don’t know why because her mother is the one with the mad-as-a-hatter ideas.

‘No, I’m just joking, Mel. The mouse was an impulse buy. Do you like rodents?’

‘I should do … have you seen Mum’s latest boyfriend?’

‘No, but my ex-husband was a bit of a handsome love-rat. Jackie’s got better taste – whatever they may look like, all her men are pleasantly ineffectual.’

When we had set everything up I was totally baffled by this Vista thing, so I began paying Mel to give me lessons. At first I only understood the bits I needed to pen my immortal prose, although we soon moved on to the esoteric world of emails and the Internet. I didn’t need any of the other stuff the computer did, which seemed to be such a waste, and I wished it would all go away and make my life simpler.

Minnie watched every session from the front of her cage, gripping the bars with her little pink fingers – or paws, or whatever you want to call them – and looked like she understood it much better than I did.

Linny called and told me she’d never visit the cottage again unless I got rid of the rodent.

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘but there are rodents and rodents. I was telling Mel earlier about Tim the love-rat! Minnie is different, you should see her peeling a sunflower seed, like a countess peeling a peach.’