The Witches
THE MOUSE-BURGLAR
My grandmother hustled me back into my own bedroom and out on to the balcony. ‘Are you ready?’ she asked. ‘I’m going to put you in the sock now.’
‘I hope I can manage this,’ I said. ‘I’m only a little mouse.’
‘You’ll manage,’ she said. ‘Good luck, my darling.’ She popped me into the sock and started lowering me over the balcony. I crouched inside the sock and held my breath. Through the stitches I could see out quite clearly. Miles below me, the children playing on the beach were the size of beetles. The sock started swinging in the breeze. I looked up and saw my grandmother’s head sticking out over the railings of the balcony above. ‘You’re nearly there!’ she called out. ‘Here we go! Gently does it. YOU’RE DOWN!’