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  Everyone talked like crazy in the car going back, telling their favourite parts, arguing about which was the dreamiest boy in McTavish, singing snatches of song. Skye stood up to repeat her little dance routine but the chauffeur told her to sit right down again. Dad didn’t tell Skye off. He winked at her. She winked back and then turned her head and sniggered at Emily and Arabella.

  Dad wasn’t in a winking mood with me. I knew he was furious because I wouldn’t go up on the stage. I didn’t want him to start ranting in front of everyone – but I was getting very scared about being left on my own with him.

  We dropped Rhona off last and we gave each other a very big hug.

  ‘Thank you so so so much for Birthday, Rhona,’ I said again.

  ‘I’m so so so glad you like him,’ said Rhona. She paused and then whispered in my ear, ‘We’ll let Skye still think she’s my best friend but really I want to be your best friend, Beauty.’

  ‘Come on, girls, no need for all these grand farewells, you’ll be seeing each other at school on Monday!’ said Dad. ‘Off you go, Rosa.’

  ‘Rhona!’ I said, giving her another hug.

  Her mum and dad must have been watching out for her because her front door opened and Mr and Mrs Marshall were there on the doorstep waving to her. Rhona gave me one last hug and then ran up her garden path to her home.

  ‘Is she the one with the swimming pool?’ said Dad. ‘It must be the size of a footbath because those houses haven’t got any back garden to speak of. It’s a tacky house too. Look at the state of the paintwork! Wouldn’t you think that guy would take a bit of pride in his own house and keep it up to scratch? I don’t know why you’re acting so pally with that little kiddie, she isn’t anything special. Why on earth don’t you make friends with that little blonde poppet Skye?’

  Dad remembered her name all right.

  ‘I don’t like Skye,’ I mumbled.

  ‘Don’t be so silly! You could take a few tips from that girl. She’s not backward in coming forward. She was off like a rocket when she got the chance to go on stage. Why wouldn’t you go, Beauty? That’s the whole blooming point of the show, to celebrate your birthday in style. Why the hell do you think I forked out a thousand quid for the tickets? You were supposed to get up there and enjoy yourself and show off to all your little friends, not sit quivering in your seat like a great fat pudding.’

  ‘Gerry!’ said Mum.

  ‘I’m sick to death of the two of you,’ Dad said, his voice raising, not caring that the chauffeur could hear every word. ‘I work my butt off for both of you, flinging money at you like it was confetti and yet I never get one word of gratitude. You’re both sitting there with your faces tripping you. I’ve spent a small fortune on your birthday, Beauty, and yet you haven’t the wits to make the most of it. You stand in the corner like you’re some little saddo no-friends while all the other girls bounce about and have a laugh and enjoy themselves.’

  ‘Please don’t, Gerry!’

  ‘You’re no better, Dilly. You won’t chat properly with the other mums. You act like you can’t say boo to a goose half the time. I buy you lovely clothes and jewellery so you can show yourself off and what do you do? Only go and lose your diamond collar! How can you lose it, for pity’s sake? I know you’re a fool but surely even you can do up the clasp of a necklace?’

  ‘I know I’m a fool,’ said Mum. ‘I’m a fool to let you talk to me like this. I’m even more of a fool to let you say such unkind things to poor Beauty.’

  ‘Poor Beauty!’ Dad reached over and gave me a shake. ‘You’re a little slyboots, miss. How dare you suck up to that Rosa like that and ask her to bring you that wretched rabbit.’

  ‘I didn’t, Dad.’

  ‘Don’t you lie to me, I won’t have it,’ said Dad. ‘And don’t think you can get the better of me either. You’ve a long way to go before you can outwit your old dad.’

  He had an awful gleam in his eye. I didn’t understand until we got home. I went running right through the house and out of the French windows to see Birthday.

  The hutch door was swinging open. I stared at it. I knew I’d shut it up properly. I’d carefully checked the latch to see it was secure. I held my breath, bending down to see if Birthday was still there, huddled in his bedding. I scrabbled my hands through the straw desperately but it was no use. He was gone.

  I looked wildly round the patio and then started searching the garden, going down on my hands and knees to peer under every bush.

  ‘Beauty?’ Mum came out onto the patio. She saw the empty rabbit hutch. ‘Oh no!’

  ‘I left it latched up properly, Mum, I know I did,’ I cried. ‘I don’t know how it came undone.’

  ‘I do,’ said Mum. ‘Gerry? Gerry! Come here!’

  Dad came out onto the patio too.

  ‘Quite bawling at me like I’m your pet dog, Dilly!’ he blustered. ‘Beauty, what the hell are you doing? Stand up, you’re getting your fancy new dress filthy!’

  ‘I’m looking for Birthday,’ I sobbed.

  ‘Who? Oh, that damn rabbit. Has it escaped already?’ said Dad.

  ‘You deliberately let him out,’ said Mum. ‘You must have sneaked out here while Beauty and all the girls were getting into the limo.’

  ‘I didn’t sneak,’ said Dad, putting his hands on his hips. He stuck his chin up belligerently. ‘Yes, I let the rabbit out. I’ve always made it plain, I’m not having animals all over the place.’

  ‘But he’s mine,’ I wept. ‘How could you let him out, Dad? He’s so little. He’ll be so frightened. Oh, Birthday, where are you?’

  ‘Stop talking nonsense. He’ll be chomping grass somewhere with all his little bunny friends,’ said Dad. ‘That’s the place for rabbits, out in the wild. Now stop that baby crying. You look a sight with your face all screwed up like that. There’s no need to make such a stupid fuss. You’ve got your lovely pink toy rabbit to play with.’

  I barely listened to Dad. I carried on searching. Mum helped too.

  ‘He must be here somewhere. He couldn’t have burrowed all the way under the fence, could he?’ I said.

  ‘He might have squeezed out at the end, behind the shed,’ said Mum. ‘I think there’s a bit of a gap in the fence there.’ She ran to look and then gasped. She staggered backwards, her hands over her mouth.

  ‘What? What is it, Mum?’ I said, getting to my feet.

  ‘Don’t come any nearer, Beauty! Stay where you are,’ Mum said.

  She was shaking all over, as if she was going to fall down. I couldn’t help running to her, though she shouted at me to keep away. Then I saw why. Birthday was lying limply beside the shed, his little furry body and his soft paws. But his head mostly wasn’t there.

  I started screaming. Mum put her arms tight round me, pushing my head against her chest so that I couldn’t see poor torn Birthday any more. Dad ran over too.

  ‘Oh God. How disgusting! A fox must have got it. That’s animals for you,’ he said.

  ‘You monster,’ said Mum.

  ‘What? Look, I didn’t tear its head off its shoulders. I wasn’t to know a fox would get it. Still, that’s what happens when you have pets. Come here, Beauty, have a cuddle with your dad.’

  I shrank away from him. ‘I bloody hate you!’ I sobbed.

  ‘What?’ Dad stared at me, shaking his head. ‘Don’t you dare talk to me like that! I’ll wash your mouth out with soap.’

  ‘Stop your stupid threats, Gerry. You sicken me,’ said Mum.

  ‘I sicken you?’ said Dad. ‘How dare you say that to me! I dragged you out the gutter, spent a fortune on you, gave you this beautiful home—’

  ‘It isn’t a beautiful home, it’s a living hell,’ said Mum.

  ‘Well, if you don’t like it then get out,’ said Dad. ‘Go on, push off out of it, you ungrateful cow.’

  ‘All right, I shall,’ said Mum.

  ‘Mum!’ I said, clutching her.

  ‘And you can take the kid with you,’ said Dad.

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