Zooey swaddled Mr.Williamson in a bright yellow bath towel, and held him as she wahed off the layers of tomato sauce from her face. Mr. Williamson dried off into a much cleaner, fluffier version of himself. He gave Zooey a dirty look as she set him down, and he scurried down the hall and back to his hiding place under the sofa. She could hear Fritz calling her from the front door.

When she entered the hall, she could see Fritz’s arms were full of their discarded belongings from their rendevous with Mr.Williamson.

“The neighbour’s brought back our stuff,” he said happily, “And here I was worried I’d have to go find it all.” He threw the scarves and mismatched shoes into the hall closet and quickly shut the door behind it, to disguise there being a mess.

Zooey picked up the scattered bags of groceries from the floor and took them to the kitchen, trailing fruit behind her.

“Oh, this is disgusting,” she said, holding the bags which had been squished and mangled, “Now I have to go shopping again.”