Sarah Takes A Chance

Where had it gone? Why can’t I find it?

I know when I am going a little silly in my head, and this was not one of those times.

The van had gone, the keys were still hanging there, and there were no footsteps in the snow. How had anyone moved it? The snow was about three feet deep and not been walked on by me for a week.

I had Nick, the lovely vet who trained me when I first arrived here, come collect me from the bottom of the driveway, because there was no way I was going to try to take any wheels out in this (I do so fondly remember my skateboard when I was eight). I could just about use that and skid to work, I guess.

My mobile rang with a number I didn’t recognise and a weird, voice, not male or female (I think they call it disguised in the movies), and said that to get my van back, follow the instructions on my phone and tell no one.

Was this a joke? My van was a beat-up old thing that had no heating, dents like I had been sledging in it, and worst of all, no wipers, so how did they drive it away?

I looked at the phone screen, and a text came through: midnight? Meet them at midnight, were they crazy, no way was I doing that!

Then, just as I had decided it was better to cut my losses and buy another van, a photo appeared on the screen. It couldn’t be – it was my Kiki (the spider monkey who was carrying my guardian angel, Felicity). In the photo, Kiki was being manhandled by someone into the back of my van; she should be with the family on the farm where she lives.

What was going on?