Casper Candlewacks in the Claws of Crime!. Ivan Brett

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      “She’s hanging on the line,” said Amanda. “I gave her a wash today.”

      “Hanging on the…?”

      “I couldn’t very well put her in the tumble dryer, could I?” Amanda burst into trills of uproarious laughter.

      Eleven and a half straight years of telly would do funny things to anyone, but Casper hoped his mother might have learnt how to be a bit less bonkers by now. This morning he’d caught Amanda drying her hair with a Hoover. Last night she’d plugged a dummy up each of Cuddles’ nostrils. “These things take time,” he told himself.

      Casper shoved open the back door and dashed into the garden, where the ten-month-old bundle of teeth and snot called Cuddles Candlewacks bounced up and down inside a pair of Julius’s boxer shorts that were hanging on the washing line. At the sight of Casper she screeched like a wounded eagle and swung her arms about, gnashing at the air with her tiny razor-sharp fangs.

      “Come on, let’s get you inside.” Casper unhooked Cuddles and carried her at arm’s length back to the kitchen.

      “There she is!” Amanda grabbed the baby from Casper’s arms and gave her a loving squeeze. “Ooh, ‘WANTED’. What’s this about?” She reached for the poster.

      Instantly forgotten, Cuddles slithered gently down her mother’s legs. She landed on all fours and scuttled off under the cupboard to hunt the raw chicken.

      “Haven’t you heard?” said Casper. “Someone’s stolen Sir Gossamer D’Glaze’s sword. A jewel thief going by the name of Le Chat.”

      “Is this him?” asked Amanda. “Poor feller. He does look so much like a cat.”

      Cuddles’ head popped out from under the cupboard. She stared at Amanda with wild eyes.

      “What’s she doing?” Casper frowned at his sister, her ears pricked up attentively.

      “Oh, it’s her new thing. She saw a cat in the garden and went berserk. Started bonking her head against the windows.”

      “TAT!” screeched Cuddles. “TAT!”

      “Ooh!” Amanda frowned. “She’s not done that before.”

      “She’s saying ‘cat’!” Casper couldn’t believe his ears.

      “Don’t be silly,” giggled Amanda. “Babies can’t talk.”

      “TATATA! TATATA!”

      “No, she is, she definitely is!”

      Cuddles scrabbled out from under the cupboard and set off on a circuit of the kitchen, her nose frantically sniffing the air.

      “Is it the cat?” Casper waved the poster at Cuddles. “Do you want the cat?”

      Cuddles’ whole body tensed. Then she launched at Casper, scaling his trousers, yapping with all her lungs, drool dangling off her sticky chin. She leapt vertically, snatching the poster from Casper’s hands and then dropping to the floor.