Ratburger. David Walliams

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      A herd of wildebeest is almost impossible to take into school without a teacher noticing.

      Nits, on the other hand, are ludicrously easy. Some children smuggle thousands of nits into school every day.

      A rat is still a difficult animal to smuggle into school. Somewhere between a blue whale and a nit on the ‘hard to smuggle into school’ scale.

      The problem was that it was impossible for Zoe to leave the little thing at home. Gingernut’s old battered cage was long gone, as her stepmother had taken it to the pawnbrokers. The ghastly woman had swapped it for a few coins, which she promptly spent on a bumper-box of prawn cocktail crisps. Thirty-six bags that she had demolished before breakfast.

      If Zoe had just left the rat running around the flat, she knew that Sheila would have poisoned it or stamped on it or both. Her stepmother made no secret of hating all rodents. And even if Zoe had hidden the rat in a bedroom drawer, or in a box under her bed, there was a very good chance Sheila would have found it. Zoe knew that her stepmother always rummaged through her possessions the moment she left for school. Sheila was looking for things she could sell or swap for a fag or two, or some more prawn cocktail crisps.

      One day, all of Zoe’s toys had gone, another day it was her beloved books. It was just too risky to leave the rat alone in the flat with that woman.

      Zoe considered putting the rat in her school bag, but because she was so poor she had to take her books to school in a beaten-up plastic carrier bag, held together with strips of sticky tape. It was too much of a risk that the little rodent might nibble its way out. So Zoe hid it in the breast pocket of her two-sizes-too-large blazer. Yes, she could feel it constantly wriggling around, but at least she knew it was safe.

      As Zoe came out of the stairwell of the tower block and into the concreted communal area, she heard a shout from above her. “Zoe!”

      She looked up.

      Big mistake.

      A huge flobbet of flob flobbed square on to her face. Zoe saw Tina Trotts standing at the railings several floors up.

      “HA HAH HA!” Tina shouted down.

      Zoe refused to cry. She just wiped her face with her sleeve and turned away, Tina’s laughter still echoing behind her. She probably would have cried, but then she felt the little rat move in her pocket, and she instantly felt better.

      Now I’ve got a little pet again, she thought. It might just be a rat, but it’s only the beginning...

      Perhaps Raj was right: her dream of training an animal to entertain the nation wasn’t dead after all.

      The rat’s presence remained a comfort when Zoe arrived at school. This was Zoe’s first year at big school and she hadn’t made a single friend there yet. Most of the kids were poor, but Zoe was the poorest. It was embarrassing for her to have to go to school in unwashed clothes from charity shops. Clothes which were either far too big or far too small for her, and most of which had gaping holes in them. The rubber sole had all but fallen off her left shoe, and flapped against the ground every time she took a step.

      FLIP FLAP FLIP FLAP FLIP FLAP went her shoes every time she walked anywhere.

      FLIPITY FLAP FLIPITY FLAP FLIPITY FLAP if she ran.

      In assembly, after an announcement about an end-of-term talent show, the pale headmaster Mr Grave stepped up to speak. He stood in the centre of the stage, unblinkingly staring at the hundreds of pupils gathered in the school hall. All the children were a little bit scared of him. With his staring eyes and pale skin, wild rumours abounded among the younger pupils that he was secretly a vampire.

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