Sky Maze leapt up onto the box beside her, prepared to lay on top of her if she wouldn’t move. White Ice squeaked and flapped down to the floor. ‘I wish I’d seen them,’ said Angie. It was Saturday morning. Angie had brought three pots of jam—her mum had been cooking up the last of the apricots—and her homework to fill in time while Harry was watching through the hole. ‘I wish you’d seen them,’ said Harry. It was the truth. Some time in the past week he’d stopped feeling that Angie was an interloper. Cissie was hers now, as well as his. Angie peered down at the hole again, and shook her head. ‘Still nothing,’ she said. ‘You know, it’s funny. It’s almost as though nothing happens till we’re watching.’ ‘Except we don’t know what’s happened that we haven’t seen,’ said Harry practically. ‘I mean all sorts of things might have happened. Cissie might have been bitten by an eel or Sergeant Wilkes might have been carried off by a wedge-tailed eagle.’ He grinned as Angie giggled.
