Chapter SevenSaturday night came around, and with Little Red no longer lurking in the corners like the Harbinger of Doom, and with us having seen neither hide nor hair of the Vatican Man all week, the mood in the house was decidedly giddy and excitable. Poppy picked up on the atmosphere, and thought that we ought to do something special. Perhaps not West End special, but special none-the-less.
“We shall all stick together this time,” she said. “None of this breaking up into little groups nonsense. Let's all stick together and have a little fun, and if the humans don't like it, well, they can just jolly well lump it, can't they?”
And all the girls laughed and applauded and thought this was the most wonderful idea. I thought it was a wonderful idea too, I really did, but there was a small
