Pick Your Poison. Lauren Child

what are you doing?’

      ‘Dicing with death.’

      ‘I’ll say,’ said Clancy. ‘You do know that if Mr Parker catches you you’ll be skinned alive?’

      ‘That’s the kind of thing Mrs Digby would say.’

      ‘Yes, and she happens to be right.’

      ‘And I happen to know he’s gotta be out – there’s no sign of Bubbles.’

      ‘I wouldn’t bet on it.’

      ‘You scared, Crew?’

      ‘Sure I’m scared – and not of the dog. Mr Parker is one mean old man.’

      ‘You don’t wanna be scared of Mr Parker,’ said Ruby, preparing to jump back towards home. ‘Mr Parker is a pussycat.’ She leapt.

      At that exact moment a voice bellowed and Ruby, losing concentration, failed to catch the branch her outstretched arm was reaching for and tumbled through the leaves, grabbing at any flimsy twigs that might prevent her fall.

      ‘Boy!’ the new voice boomed. ‘What are you doing peering over my yard fence?’

      Clancy twisted around to see the angry beet-coloured face of Mr Parker.

      ‘Oh, me,’ stammered Clancy, ‘me?’

      ‘Yes, you, idiot. Is there another skinny, good-for-nothing chump looking into my yard?’

      ‘I wouldn’t think so Mr Parker, I’ll bet I’m the only one.’

      ‘So answer me quick – what’s got you so interested in my property?’

      ‘I saw a raccoon,’ said Clancy, ‘more than one, several, in fact lots of them. I was going to inform you because I thought you would want to, you know, call raccoon control?’

      ‘I don’t need raccoon control,’ he spat. ‘I’ll simply set my dog on them just as soon as I find her – she’s gone AWOL.’ He whistled a command as if to illustrate the point. ‘Disappeared into thin air,’ said Mr Parker. ‘I don’t suppose you know something about that, do you?’ He trained his beady eyes on Clancy and Clancy stepped back a pace.

      ‘Why would I, Mr Parker? But I’m happy to help you look.’

      Unfortunately, Ruby’s cluster of twigs parted company with the tree at that moment and she was again tumbling through the branches and this time to the ground.

      ‘Ouch.’

      Mr Parker’s ears pricked up. ‘Was that an ouch?’ he said, fumbling for his gate key.

      ‘I doubt it,’ said Clancy. ‘I’ve never heard a raccoon say ouch.’

      ‘Don’t get smart with me boy. It’s that Redfort girl, isn’t it?’

      ‘I wouldn’t think so sir.’

      But Mr Parker wasn’t listening. ‘Girl!’ he bellowed. ‘You’re in trouble so deep you’ll need that hound of yours to dig you out.’

      ‘Hey, let me help you with that key,’ said Clancy, knocking the key out of the old man’s hand. It fell between the bars of a drain cover, clattered into the darkness and that was that for Mr Parker’s gate key.

      This delaying tactic gave Ruby just enough time to stumble to her feet, then half-run half-limp across the Parker lawn.

      Mr Parker whistled again to his dog and this time Ruby thought she did hear something: not a bark, not a yap, but perhaps a whimper. It was the noise an injured dog might make. It was coming from the space underneath the house.