Letters From Prague Read Online Free

he ran up her arm. ‘But I couldn’t leave him. I’m sorry.’
    They had spent the best part of ten minutes engaged in all this, and Harriet was dying for a coffee. They could get one on the train, but probably not for a while, and anyway it was nice to take one on with you, so you could avoid the first rush down the corridor, and settle down and relax.
    With a nine-year old. And a mouse. All the way to Prague.
    Harriet drew breath. ‘I’m sorry, too,’ she said. ‘He’s not coming.’ She turned to her parents. ‘Help?’
    They came to the rescue.
    â€˜Darling.’ Marsha’s grandmother addressed her coaxingly.
    Marsha looked mulish. ‘What?’
    â€˜Please may we have him? Just until you come home? He’d be such good company when we’ll be missing you both.’
    â€˜I’ll miss him ,’ said Marsha. ‘Anyway, you’ve got Thomas. He’ll eat him, I know it.’
    â€˜I know,’ said her grandfather. ‘I’ve the very idea.’
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜He can come to the office. He can sit on my desk and entertain me while I do my sums. He can help.’
    â€˜He needs cleaning out –’
    â€˜I’ll clean him out. I’ll enjoy it. Much better than doing sums.’
    â€˜With what?’ asked Harriet. ‘You need sawdust, bedding, he has to have a dish, food, water bottle – honestly Marsha, this really is too bad. Poor Grandpa.’
    â€˜I’ve got all those things,’ said Marsha calmly. ‘They’re all in my suitcase.’
    Harriet looked at her. ‘Then you’d better get them out again, sharpish. And what on earth are we going to put him in now?’
    Everyone thought, as Marsha bent to unzip her bursting bag.
    â€˜A burger box?’ suggested her grandmother.
    Harriet looked at her gratefully.
    â€˜Brilliant,’ said Marsha, removing mouse equipment from amongst pyjamas and sweatshirts. ‘Can we get them to punch airholes in it?’
    â€˜We’d better get a move on,’ said Harriet’s father.
    Some minutes later they emerged from the buffet with a carton of orange juice, coffee in a polystyrene beaker and Victor in a polystyrene burger box, scrabbling. People were moving steadily through the barrier. They made for it, hotfoot.
    â€˜Thank you,’ said Harriet, hugging her parents. ‘Whatever would I do without you?’
    â€˜Have a wonderful time.’ Her father patted her shoulder. ‘Give our love to Hugh and Susanna.’
    â€˜I wanted them to see Victor,’ said Marsha.
    â€˜Never mind, darling.’ Her grandmother gently took the box.
    â€˜Thank you so much for letting us borrow him. It’ll do Grandpa the world of good.’
    Marsha looked at the box. Beside them, the queue for the train moved faster.
    â€˜Come on,’ said Harriet quickly. ‘Come on, or we’re done for.’
    They all made their way down the platform. Reserved seats were waiting in Carriage D.
    â€˜Promise me something,’ said Harriet, as they settled themselves, and looked out to where her parents were waiting, holding the box with encouraging expressions.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜Don’t ever lie to me again.’
    â€˜I didn’t lie.’
    â€˜Deceive, then. You know what I mean.’
    â€˜OK.’
    â€˜And for the rest of the journey you do as you’re told, OK?’
    Marsha hesitated.
    â€˜Please?’ said Harriet. She felt for her passport. Their passport: hers, with Marsha’s photograph inside it, so no one could ever take her away. It had always, almost since the beginning, been just the two of them.
    â€˜Don’t keep on about it,’ said Marsha. ‘I’ll try.’
    They both knew it was touch and go.
    Their seats were opposite each other by the window of a No Smoking compartment; their luggage was stowed away above them. Harriet carefully removed the lid of the