Page 61 of For the Love of Animals

I knelt and pressed an ear to the carpet. Yes, something was definitely under there, and unless a mouse had taken up residence, it had to be Hammie. I rocked back on my heels and tore at my hair. How had he even got down there?

And, more importantly, how was I going to get him out?

At nine a.m., I was wondering whether I could pry up floorboards with a nail file when my phone trilled on the coffee table. Mum and Dad? My brother? No, Maria.

“I just thought I’d call and wish you a happy Christmas,” she said.

A sweet thought, but her voice held a hint of pity. After all, it was Maria who Utah de Witt had overheard me telling that I’d be spending Christmas alone.

“Oh, er, thanks. Happy Christmas to you too.”

“How’s the hamster? Did you give her a name yet?”

“Him. I know that much now. And he’s escaped.”

“What? How?”

“Partly wine, partly incompetence.” The whole story came spilling out, from Rodent World to Penny’s Pets to the disaster at the vet’s. “Without a doubt, this is the most embarrassing week of my life. And how am I supposed to get a hamster out from under the floor? I don’t even own a screwdriver.”

“Can’t help with tools, I’m afraid, and my Derek doesn’t know a hammer from a chisel.” She snapped her fingers. “Got it! Why don’t you call the fire brigade?”

“Why? I haven’t started cooking anything yet.”

“They rescue cats in trees, don’t they? Surely they’ll help out with a hamster.”

“I can’t call 999 because my hamster’s gone missing.”

“The fire station’s only two streets away from your house. Just nip around there and borrow a pry bar or something.”

“Are you crazy? I can’t just walk into a building full of men and admit to yet another moment of utter idiocy. I’m going to throttle Mrs. de Witt in January.”

“Why? She wanted to get you a friend. Now you’ve got your new online buddies, a coffee morning with that Penny girl to look forward to, and a hot vet who may be interested. I’d say she’s done pretty well.”

“When you put it like that…”

“Happy Christmas, and good luck with the firemen.”

CHAPTER 6

BY LUNCHTIME, I’D tried and failed to lift a floorboard using the socket set from the boot of my car, and embarked on a fruitless search to find a DIY store open on Christmas Day. I may have also shed a few tears and finished off the bottle of wine.

And now, I admitted defeat.

If I wanted Hammie back, I’d have to go with Maria’s ridiculous plan. I checked my hair in the mirror, put on a touch of lipstick, stuck my feet into my trainers, and set off along the road to the fire station, feeling sicker with every step. Why me? Was it bad karma? Payback for making Phillip Woodside play the back end of a donkey in the nativity play because he’d been annoying me all term?

My finger shook as I pressed the bell outside the fire station’s reception, and I almost turned around and ran home. I’d taken two steps back when the door swung open.

“Can I help?”

I looked up. And up. Wow. The guy was a foot taller than me and made the vet look kind of ugly. Dark hair, a chiselled jaw with a smattering of stubble, and judging by the way his maroon T-shirt stretched across his chest, he spent all his spare time in the gym.

“I…uh…”

“Look, if Andy sent you, the boss got really pissed last time, so you’ll have to leave.”

“Andy? Who’s Andy?”

“My brother. He sent us a stripper last Christmas. His idea of a joke.”

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