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An elephant who sings opera
A donkey who does magic tricks
A tap-dancing centipede
A boy band comprised entirely of guinea pigs
A street-dance group of tortoises
A cat who does impressions (of famous cartoon cats)
A ballet-dancing pig
A worm hypnotist
A high-wire acrobatics act with cows
An ant who does ventriloquism
A daredevil mole who does incredible stunts like being shot out of a cannon
A karate display with jellyfish
A bungee-jumping hippopotamus
Zoe had it all planned out. With the money the animals earned, she and her father could both escape the leaning, crumbling tower block for ever. Zoe could buy Dad a much bigger flat, and she could retire to a huge country house and set up a sanctuary for unwanted pets. The animals could run around in the grounds all day, and sleep together in a giant bed at night. ‘No animal too big or too small, they will all be loved’ was to be written over the entrance gates.
Then on that fateful day, Zoe came home from school to find that Gingernut was dead. And with him, Zoe’s dreams of animal-training stardom died too.
So, reader, after that little journey back in time, we’re back at the start, and ready to get on with the story.
Don’t turn back to the beginning though, that would be really stupid and you would go round and round in circles reading the same few pages. No, move on to the next page, and I will continue with the story. Quickly. Stop reading this and move on. Now!
Zoe was sitting on her bed listening through the wall to her dad and stepmother arguing.
“No!” replied Dad.
“Give it ’ere ya useless git! I’ll bung it in de bin!”
Zoe often sat on her bed in her too-small pyjamas, listening through the paper-thin wall to her father and stepmother arguing way past her bedtime. Tonight they were of course shouting and screaming about Gingernut, who had died that day.
As they lived in a flat on the 37th floor of a dilapidated council block (which leaned heavily and should have been demolished decades ago), the family didn’t have a garden. There was an old adventure playground in the central concrete square shared by all the blocks in the estate. However, the local gang made it too dangerous to venture near.
“Wot you lookin’ at?” Tina Trotts would shout at anyone passing by. Tina was the local bully, and her gang of teenage hoodlums ruled the estate. She was only fourteen but she could make a grown man cry, and often did. Every day she would flob on Zoe’s head from the flats as the little girl walked to school. And every day Tina would laugh, as if it was the funniest thing in the world.
If the family had owned an allotment or even the smallest patch of grass anywhere on the estate they could call their own, Zoe would have dug a little grave with a spoon, lowered her little friend into the hole and made a headstone with a lolly stick.
Gingernut,
Much loved Hamster,
Expert breakdancer,
And sometime bodypopper.
Sadly missed by his owner and friend Zoe,
RIP2
But of course they didn’t have a garden. No one did. Instead, Zoe had wrapped her hamster carefully in a page from her History exercise book. When her dad finally returned home from the pub, Zoe gave him the precious little package.
My dad will know what to do with him, she thought.
But Zoe hadn’t reckoned on her horrible stepmother getting involved.
Unlike his new wife, Dad was tall and thin. If she was a bowling ball, he was the skittle, and of course bowling balls often knock over skittles.
So now Dad and Sheila were arguing in the kitchen about what to do with the little package Zoe had given to Dad. It was always awful hearing the two of them shouting at each other, but tonight was proving particularly unbearable.
“I suppose I could get the poor girl another hamster,” ventured Dad. “She was so good with it…”
Zoe’s face lit up for a moment.
“Are ya crazy?” sneered her stepmother. “Another ’amster! You are so useless, ya can’t even get a job to pay for one!”
“There are no jobs,” pleaded Dad.
“You’re just too lazy to get one. Ya useless git.”
“I could find a way, for Zoe. I love my girl so much. I could try to save up some of my benefit money—”
“Dat’s hardly enuff to keep me in prawn cocktail crisps, let alone feed a beast like dat.”
“We could feed it leftovers,” protested Dad.
“I am not havin’ another one of dose disgusting creatures in me flat!” said the woman.
“It’s
