Honestly now, my final few weeks in hospital were absolutely crazy! After a string of accidents which saw me go through multiple sets of leg plasters in record time, I hardly knew which way was up anymore, and this turmoil was only increased by the bewildering state of my love life. I mean, did I like Aurora Australis, or didn’t I? She was smart, she was gorgeous, and by outward appearances she was all I could wish for in a girlfriend… but she was also wantonly rude, demanding and insensitive. How was it, then, that I seemed so blind to those faults whenever I was near her?

On the other hand, there was Nurse Glob. Nurse Glob was everything that Aurora wasn’t. She was simple, she was ugly, she was clumsy in the extreme. She was the furthest thing possible from anyone I imagined being attracted to, but she was also thoughtful, kind and caring. When I was near her, she mostly made me cross. Yet when she left my side, somehow there was an empty space that nobody else could fill, and I found myself bored and lonely till she was back again. 

Confused? You bet I was!  But sooner or later all unpleasant things come to an end, and so I was eventually discharged from hospital with high hopes of trading in both of the above for a brand new romantic interest. However – yes, you’ve guessed it, fans! – so far from this, after returning home my misadventures in the love department only went from bad to worse.

It all began after my army friend George McAcker heard my story and offered to introduce me to RatChat, a popular dating app for rodents. Naturally I couldn’t have been more delighted with his suggestion, so I signed up for the service right away. I just couldn’t wait to see the profile pictures of my many potential matches, and sure enough I wasn’t disappointed. But then, oh my, where to start? I hadn’t been browsing through the photos for long before it came to my attention that I was swiping right with almost every profile I viewed, with the result that I had soon ‘liked’ two hundred and twenty seven glamorous lady rats with hobbies and other pastimes similar to my own. (Well I ask you, was it my fault that nearly all of the female users of RatChat were really hot?) With this, in a flash the app launched into action, linking together geographical locations, common interests and mutual friends. Then having apparently deemed me compatible with them all, it lost no time in streaming my personal photos back to the same two hundred and twenty seven RatChat users – of whom two hundred and thirteen then promptly swiped right to ‘like’ me too… and that’s when things took a seriously wrong turn.

Well as you might expect, the prospect of trying to keep up with chat messages from such a great multitude of lady rats was, to say the least, daunting. This led me to think about whittling the number down to a more convenient size, which in turn resulted in a stroke of pure genius! After all, what could be a more effective way to eliminate those who fell short of my requirements than to set them a written test? If successful, this would leave me with a small, eminently manageable portfolio of candidates whom I could then date on a ‘try before you buy’ basis till I made my final choice. So with this in mind I set about compiling a suitable questionnaire, which for your information I have copied below:

Please answer all the following questions fully and honestly:

1.  Are you generally punctual?

2.  What work skills do you have?

3.  Can you cook?

4.  Do you like cleaning?

5.  Are you any good at digging up worms?

6.  How many heavy bags of shopping can you carry uphill?

7.  Do you snore?

8.  Are you an early riser?

9.  Do you sing in the shower?

10. How would you cope with having a celebrity boyfriend?

When I was satisfied with my ultimate version of this form, I sent it off to all two hundred and thirteen of my matches, then settled back with several flasks of black coffee to await their replies. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t blown away by what happened next…

As expected, around three quarters of the recipients didn’t bother to reply, for which I was truly grateful. Those were they who, having recognised their own shortcomings in these matters, had actually helped me by disqualifying themselves from the contest. Then, out of the fifty two who took the trouble to complete the form, a further fifty gave one or more unsatisfactory answers to my questions, in so doing forcing me to rule them out. All this left me with just two contestants still in the running, which you would think would make things pretty straightforward. But as I was about to find out to my cost, nothing is ever straightforward once jealousy has entered the mix.

In the event, from the start the two remaining candidates did not hesitate to show that they were no shrinking violets. One of these, who went by the username of ‘Mad Hatter’, was darkly attractive and appeared over and over again wearing an alluring combination of sunglasses and some very cool peaked caps. She also added an awful lot of ‘skis’ to the ends of her words, a foreign trait which only increased her air of mystery and intrigue. Nevertheless, when it came to beauty, the second candidate was easily her equal. Using nothing but the simple first name ‘Mave’, she was pure white with a blue-grey nose and ears, and posed for her online photos adorned with wreaths of flowers round her head and neck. I can tell you right now, fans, she was stunning! It would certainly be a hard job to pick just one of these to be my true love, which meant I would really have to rev things up if I wanted a clear winner. So to this end, after some reflection I decided to invite them both to a night of Latin dancing with South American food at the local Community Centre. But there was a twinkle of mischief in this proposal. As I was in fact Latin Dance Champion of 2019, I didn’t want to test their salsa skills so much as their ability to laugh at themselves when my fancy footwork left them standing… 

Or at least, that was the plan. 

With hindsight, asking two ladies out on a date to the same venue at the same time might not have been my smartest move, as evidenced by the heated exchange which ensued when they realised that I intended to divide my affections between the pair of them for the duration of the event. However, that was nothing compared to their behaviour at the dinner table. Unfortunately Mave decided that her food was lukewarm, and so made a complaint to the waiter. At this, Maddie (AKA the Mad Hatter) demanded that she be thrown out of the establishment as a troublemaker. But instead the waiter chose a more diplomatic solution and went off to exchange the meal, leaving the Mad Hatter to vent her anger on Mave by pouring a generous portion of salt into her glass of wine. Outraged, Mave then leaned across and tipped the spoiled wine over Maddie’s plate, whereupon the Mad Hatter jumped up in fury and slapped her smartly round the face. And who knows where this all might have ended if I hadn’t intervened to ask one of them to dance! 

Indeed, so explosive was the atmosphere that I scarcely had time to notice which of the two it was, till at length I found myself on the floorboards with Mave, whirling and twirling her about in step with a rather steamy samba. To be fair she might not have been the most athletic of partners, but what she lacked in agility she more than made up for in passion, as became plain shortly after we started, when I spun her around so fast that she fell headlong onto the floor, pulling me down on top of her — and, oh my goodness, WHAT a kiss that was! 

Surprised and delighted by her initiative, I was just snuggling closer for some more of the same, when like a red hot comet on a collision course with Earth, into our midst plunged the flaming mad Mad Hatter!

‘Just what do you think you are doing with Grump-ski? Get your big, fat, oversized bum-ski off him NOW!’ she cried, grabbing Mave by the neck and hurling her forcefully across the room. With that, my unlucky dance partner landed on her rear end and then continued her forward momentum on the polished floor, all the way out of the door and into the arms of Brute the Bouncer, a burly black rat hired to eject hooligans from the premises. And that was the last we saw or heard of her for three months, until by and by her updated RatChat page showed her smiling bravely at the camera while wearing an orange jumpsuit.

Straight after this, and despite my most vigorous protests, Maddie seized my arm and dropped me onto my back. Then with all the skill of a world class bowler she sent me flying between her legs, swiftly turning to haul me up again as I came out the other side. Next she took me by both hands and made me lean backwards with my feet touching hers, following which we rotated at breakneck speed to the pounding beat of bongos. But just as I thought I was going to be sick, I was abruptly set free and sent reeling down to the floor, only to be hoisted back up with less than a second to go before impact. Then for her pièce de résistance, and to the huge delight of the onlookers, the Mad Hatter lifted me high in the air and whizzed me repeatedly round her head till, with my skull pointing earthwards, she unexpectedly released me. And after that, the next thing I remember is waking up in a room with a strangely familiar smell…

Oh, surely not!

As I blinked in disbelief, here I was again: in bed on a hospital ward, with the ever dutiful Nurse Glob at my side, her look of concern now morphing into a happy smile.

‘Oh my dear Lord Grumpkin, I see you’ve been in the wars again, you poor thing! But I’m going to take great care of you, so don’t you worry, we’ll have you up and about in no time. Now I was just going to the kitchen to get Aurora a cup of tea. Shall I get you one, too?’

‘What, is Aurora on duty as well, then?’ I asked in surprise, aware that the two of them normally worked on different shifts. But I was quite unprepared for the nurse’s reply:

‘Oh, no, Aurora is here as a patient, Lord Grumpkin. See, there she is in the bed next to yours,’ she told me, pointing to the one on my left. ‘Sad to say, you both seem to have had some sort of accident on the dance floor last night. You have a concussion after falling on your head, and she apparently tripped over her shoe and broke her ankle in three places. She only came back from the operating theatre an hour ago.’

‘She did…?’

As incredible as that sounded, a cursory glance at the bed in question confirmed that the sleeping patient was indeed none other than my physiotherapist, Aurora Australis. But something about her face didn’t seem right, and I couldn’t work out what it was. Was it her ears? …her nose? …or maybe she just looked different with her eyes closed? I was on the point of giving up when, roused from her slumber, she suddenly turned and fixed me with a lingering gaze.

‘Hello, Grump-ski,’ she murmured seductively in an unconvincing Russian drawl, ‘and how is the head-ski today?’

Then at long last it hit me like a blast of dynamite:

What, you mean SHE was the Mad Hatter?

And now here she was, acting just as if I was flirting with her too! Did she seriously think she could woo me with her fake foreign accent, those fancy caps and sunglasses, and the cheap brown hair dye which barely masked all the white patches on her face and body? If that’s what she believed, she was really deluded! By now I was so angry that my thoughts were going off like fireworks in my brain and I couldn’t even speak. Aurora, however, had no such difficulty…

‘Oh, and by the way, sorry I dropped you yesterday,’ she went on. ‘Someone cut in just as I was about to put you down, and well, I couldn’t say no, could I? He’s quite a catch you know, very handsome and a much better dancer than you are, Grump-ski. Once the ambulance took you away we danced together all night, then just as we were getting ready to leave, my shoe-ski came off and I fell over. After that they brought me straight here for surgery.’

‘Well, poor you!’ I said sarcastically, snapping my eyes shut to block her out.

‘And guess what, he’s coming to see me later,’ Aurora carried on happily. ‘I expect he’ll want to say hi to you, too, if you’re awake.’

‘Oh, and why would he want to do that?’

‘Well, he says you two are friends, actually.’

‘I doubt that very much, none of my friends are Latin dancers,’ said I, snorting with derision. 

‘Well this one certainly is, and he says he’s a neighbour of yours,’ she insisted. 

‘A neighbour who’s a Latin dancer? All right then, who is this guy?’ One of my eyelids cracked open just enough for me to scan her for more funny tricks.

‘Well, obviously we have our own pet names for each other: he’s my Romeo and I’m his Juliette,’ she whispered confidentially,’ but I’m sure you’ll know him by the nickname that all his mates use: it’s ‘Mac the Hacker’, of course.’

Hearing this, my mouth opened very wide for several seconds. And then I fainted.

Well as you can imagine, everyone, following yet another leg surgery I was much the worse for wear and feeling horribly low in spirits. Despite this, however, nothing cheered me up more than the daily physiotherapy sessions I enjoyed with Aurora Australis, with whom I shared a deepening friendship and a number of common interests. Who would have thought, for example, that like me this lovely Australian therapist had not only previously served in the army, but also developed a real passion for seeking gold? I mean, honestly now, was it not fate that brought us together? The more I reflected on it, the more I couldn’t wait for the time when I would finally be well enough to return home to Grumblemore, so that I could introduce her to my army friends and we could go dredging for gold in the nearby stream! But for some unknown reason I just seemed to keep suffering one health setback after another. Every time the doctors were about to discharge me a new issue would arise, so that as long as two months after being admitted I was still no closer to leaving hospital. And I can tell you fans, that totally sucked! 

Meanwhile the notorious Nurse Glob was still a thorn in my side, and indeed I strongly suspected her of being the mystery lover seen in Gypsy Georgette’s vision. As you will recall, this crystal ball gazer had once paid me a visit in which she predicted that someone on my medical team would fall in love with me and try to prolong my stay here for her own selfish ends, even going so far as to cause me injury to achieve this goal. Well, surely no one could have done more to injure me than Nurse Glob! To date she’d had me suspended by my broken legs to cure a mistaken case of choking, thrown a scalding cup of tea into my lap, and set in motion an accident that wrenched all the surgical pins out of my newly repaired leg-bone! Moreover, there could be no doubt about her feelings for me, since she had made these abundantly plain on many occasions. So now the only question was, what on earth was I going to do about it? I was still contemplating this thorny problem when, quite unexpectedly, a solution arose from a rather unusual source… and I’d be lying to you if I said that merely imagining such a mischievous prank did not spark in me a truly devilish delight! 

It all began on the day when I discovered there was a weird little thing called a placebo, which, as it turns out, is a drug with no active properties at all. Now exactly why a hospital should prescribe such a useless remedy still escapes me, but the instant it came to my attention, a light came on in my brain. You see, it’s a known fact that when we take a medication, its effectiveness isn’t just down to the quality of the product itself. A major part of its success is our belief that it will heal us. Faith is key! If we think a pill is going to take our pain away, it probably will. But the converse is also true. It appears that our minds can also play tricks on us, inducing physical symptoms that make us think we are ill when we aren’t — and once I knew that, I had a flash of sheer genius:

What if Nurse Glob could be conned into believing she was allergic to me? 

Inspired by this unlikeliest of ideas I straightaway set about devising a plan, which in the event proved a lot harder than anticipated. 

For my first attempt I used pepper, which I sprinkled liberally over my head and shoulders in hopes that when the nurse approached me she would have a sneezing fit and mistake it for an allergic reaction. But that quickly backfired when I inhaled the stuff myself, went into paroxysms of coughing, and had to be rushed off to the bathroom for an emergency shower. 

For my next attempt I acquired a kitchen knife and a raw onion, my intention being to rub myself with the chopped vegetable in order to make her eyes water if she got too close. But while secretly trying to slice the onion under the bedclothes I also cut my finger. I then required smelling salts due to the sight of my own blood, a general anaesthetic due to my aversion to needles, and a large and very ugly stitch to the resulting wound. However, I’m pleased to report that after twenty two more failed attempts to achieve my goal, the ruse which I finally came up with impressed even me.

Of course as I realised from the get-go, this was never going to be a straightforward affair. For starters, just getting hold of the right ingredients was quite a headache. After all, it was hardly the simplest of things for a person with three limbs in plaster to pilfer hospital items without being noticed (especially when one of these was a hefty container of cleaning fluid), so it was a couple of days before I had at last accumulated everything I needed. Then once I’d got all the necessary bits and pieces, I immediately set to work to create my masterpiece: the world’s most powerful hand gel! You see, in accordance with today’s health and safety regulations there must be a container of hand cleanser at the foot of each bed, and all staff are expected to make thorough use of this before approaching the patient. My idea was simply to replace those contents with a noxious blend of chemicals that would give Nurse Glob some unpleasant stinging and a nasty rash whenever she smeared it on her hands, thus causing her to stay away from me. To my mind it was totally foolproof and nothing short of brilliant!

Exactly what was in this concoction? Well, obviously I can’t reveal any trade secrets here, but suffice to say that I successfully disguised the strong odours of ammonia and other substances with the scent of crushed lavender flowers, to make what in the end (at least in my opinion) resulted in a truly fragrant product. And to my great surprise, I soon discovered that I wasn’t the only one who thought so…

‘I say, Lord Grumpkin, this gel is absolutely wonderful, I just can’t get enough of it!’ pronounced the beaming Nurse Glob, as she smoothed a dollop of the goo between her fingers and breathed in the wild, intoxicating fumes. 

‘Is that so? Sorry, I wouldn’t know, they all seem the same to me,’ I lied.

‘Oh no, this one is definitely in a class of its own, it reminds me of an exotic perfume I once bought in Paris,’ said she, thrusting her hand under my nose. ‘Here, see for yourself.’

The next second, a sharp burst of lavender shot up my nostrils and brought tears to my eyes. ‘Ah yes, very nice,’ I said, as I yielded to a pleasant fuzzy feeling in my head. 

‘It’s almost like incense, the aroma makes you warm all over,’ went on the nurse.

‘Yes, it does rather… and happy, too,’ I agreed, as a balminess spread through my body like mulled wine at Christmas.

‘You know I’ve never told you this, Lord Grumpkin, but you have the most beautiful ears,’ she told me in a whisper, her face drawing nearer to mine.

‘I do? Well, now you come to mention it, Nurse Glob, I’ve always thought that you have a really sweet smile,’ I replied, lifting my face towards hers. 

‘Oh, Lord Grumpkin, you say such romantic things,’ she murmured. Then as our heads continued to converge, she puckered her mouth in anticipation of my next move. 

Romantic things…?

WHAT??!!! 

This was the ugliest nurse on the ward, what was I thinking? Desperately seeking a way out, my brain went into overdrive. And then it came to me: 

‘Oh no, I think I’m going to be sick!’ I cried, abruptly pulling back from her.

‘What? Oh, dear — quick, take this,’ she responded, as she shoved a kidney shaped bowl under my chin.

At that, I grunted and grimaced convincingly for a while, then when I felt a suitable moment had passed: ‘Well, I don’t know what happened just then, but I feel fine now,’ I told her.

‘So glad to hear it, Lord Grumpkin, for a minute there you had me worried,’ she said. ‘Look, why don’t I go to the kitchen and make you a nice hot cup of tea to settle your stomach? And while I’m there I can make one for myself too, if you like. Then we can sit together for a while… just till we’re sure you’re fully recovered, that is.’

‘Oh yes, that would be great, if you’re not too busy, of course.’

‘Never too busy for you, Lord Grumpkin.’ And again came that little flutter of her eyelids that I always found so charming.

‘Right, well, thanks a lot,’ I said, noticing for the first time all the pretty golden colours glinting in her grey fur.

‘You’re welcome,’ she said, smiling broadly. And then she left the room.

I mean REALLY, what in heaven’s name was wrong with me? How could someone that I’d so despised suddenly become so irresistible? None of it made any sense, which fact hit me harder still when shortly afterwards I realised that my feelings for Aurora had changed too, and not in a good way – as I found out when a coarse, familiar voice sawed through my peace and quiet like a screechy violin:

‘Good day, mate, ready for your daily workout? All right, Grumps, today we’re going to focus on getting your heart rate up with some nice strong arm and leg exercises. You’ll need to get out of bed for this one, so here, let me give you a hand.’ Then after I had grudgingly done as I was told, ‘Right, then, let’s get you started with fifty jumping jacks. Now I want you to do exactly what I do, and keep in time with me, okay?’ With this she took a deep breath and gave me the nod. ‘And — ONE, and TWO, and THREE, and FOUR, and — all right, what’s going on, Grumps? You’re half asleep, for goodness’ sake! Come on, wakey wakey, let’s lose that attitude and pick up the pace!’

It was unbelievable that I hadn’t seen it till now, but this brash young Aussie was actually very rude. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more she stood out by a country mile as being by far the most unpleasant person I’d ever had the misfortune to meet! As to how I could possibly have persuaded myself that I liked her, well, that was a total mystery. All I wanted now was to see the back of her for good, but for reasons which entirely passed me by, it appeared that fate had other ideas… or at least, that’s what I reckoned at first.

And so it was, that as I bounced obediently up and down to the rhythm of Aurora’s jumping jacks, I accidentally cracked my leg plasters together, causing them to split open and fall off. As a result I was in instant agony and collapsed in a heap on the floor, clasping my lower limbs and writhing with pain. But in spite of this, if I expected any sympathy from my therapist I was clearly going to be disappointed.

‘All right Grumps, no need to worry, you’re absolutely fine! Well, now that you’re lying down, why don’t we use that new position as an opportunity to strengthen your arms? Right-oh then, when I say go, just slip your hands underneath you, push down as hard as you can on the floor, and sit up. Are you ready? Okay — go!’ Then after I had nearly burst a blood vessel with the effort of raising myself up, ‘Well done, Grumps, excellent work! Right, now give me four more push-ups like that and we’ll call it a day.’

Needless to say, after yet another visit to the plaster room where I received two new leg casts, I was totally exhausted and only just managed to finish my supper before falling into a dead sleep. However, soon after I shut my eyes I was jolted awake with a start.

‘Hey, Aurora, what are you doing here? I thought your shift ended hours ago,’ I exclaimed in surprise, as a darkly beautiful female face emerged out of the shadows above me.

‘It did,’ she answered, ‘but after your little misadventure earlier I just wanted to make sure you were all right before I went home. So how are you feeling?’

‘Well, now that you ask, not great, I’m afraid,’ I said, inhaling her perfumed hands as she moved to smooth my bedclothes.

‘You poor thing, you’ve been through such a bad time, you must be absolutely miserable to be stuck in hospital like this,’ came the response. Then she bent lower to murmur in my ear, ‘So tell me, what can I do to make your stay here more comfortable?’ 

‘Oh… I’m not sure, Aurora, but I appreciate the kind offer,’ I mumbled as I drank in her aroma.

‘Well, everyone who knows me says that I’m a very kind person,’ she stated in return, her warm breath tickling my whiskers.

’Really? Yes, of course you are, I could see that from the moment I met you,’ I mumbled hazily. For what seemed like an infinity, as if in a trance we gazed deep into each other’s eyes. Then somehow our mouths joined together, and before we knew it we were lost in a kiss… and so our rapture continued till a sudden crash broke the spell.

‘Oh dear, I’m so sorry! I must have had the plates badly stacked, they started to slip sideways and then they just fell off the tray,’ apologised the flustered Nurse Glob as she stooped to gather up the broken pieces. 

‘That’s okay, Nurse, you carry on, I was about to leave anyway,’ said Aurora cheerily.

‘Oh no, please don’t leave on my account! I’ll have this cleared up in no time and then I’ll be out of your way,’ the nurse replied.

‘No, honestly, the last bus leaves in five minutes and I’ll have to get a wriggle on if I want to catch it. Well, good night, Grumps,’ said the Aussie, ‘see you tomorrow.’ And after pausing for a brief parting kiss, she turned on her heels and was gone.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry, Lord Grumpkin, I can be such a klutz sometimes! I didn’t mean to interrupt your tête-à-tête,’ the Glob went on, plainly still embarrassed.

‘Not to worry, after all you didn’t do it on purpose, did you?’ I said sympathetically.

‘It’s just that, well, I didn’t know that you and Aurora were seeing each other, you see, so it caught me unawares, and then I dropped the plates.’ She was blinking a lot now, and I wasn’t sure why.

‘That’s all right, Nurse, anyone can make a mistake,’ I told her, trying to put her at ease. But for some reason this didn’t help.

‘Oh, Lord Grumpkin, you’re so nice to me!’ she observed in a shaky voice. Then without a word of explanation, she promptly burst into tears and fled out of the ward, howling all the way. And that was the last I saw of her for three whole days…

But it wasn’t the end of the story.

Oh, what a difference a day makes, fans! Things were all going swimmingly, and indeed I was well on the road to recovery when just a few weeks ago I received a fateful visit from the crystal ball gazer known as Georgette del Magico. I mean, honestly, now, who still believes in fortune telling today? After all, aren’t gypsies famous for the great stories they tell their customers? How could I have known that the bohemian’s dire predictions for my life were not, as I thought, a thumping good theatrical performance, but actually real? And worse than that, how could I possibly have guessed how soon they would come to pass? For sure enough, the very next day after Gypsy Georgette’s dramatic vision I found myself back in hospital again, and then before I knew it, by slow degrees everything fell apart…

It all began so innocently. I had turned up at the Outpatients Department in plenty of time for the X-rays that were scheduled to determine how my bones were healing after the accident — or should I say, accidents. The first of these misfortunes had occurred at home, as a result of falling from a ladder while trying to soundproof my ceiling. Then shortly after I was admitted as a patient, some of the doctors (who mistakenly thought I was choking) suspended me from my broken legs to clear my airways, in so doing compounding my injuries. And then finally, yet a third calamity ensued when I tried to get out of bed to go to the pay-phone, instead toppling headlong onto the stone floor where I sustained a minor concussion. I ask you now, how unlucky can a person get? 

Well, as it turns out, quite a lot unluckier than that…

Of course, being an international celebrity I am well accustomed to the flattering attentions of lesser mortals, who commonly stop me in the street to ask for my autograph, or a selfie with their faces next to mine to post on social media. Since arriving here, however, what I have never managed to get used to are the constant interventions of the medical staff that disturb me day and night. I mean, for goodness’ sake, if it isn’t somebody wanting to take my temperature or jab me with a needle at all sorts of ungodly hours, then it’s someone serving breakfast before dawn, or supper when I would normally take my lunch. Believe it or not, the other day I even had a nurse wake me from a deep sleep at six in the evening in order to give me a sleeping pill! 

But if there ever was a REALLY annoying nurse, then surely it would be none other than the aptly named Nurse Glob, who, as per her normal practice, on the day in question was making herself useful by inventing pointless jobs to do. There I was minding my own business, simply sitting in a chair and waiting to be called by the radiologist, when for absolutely no reason at all she brought me an unsolicited cup of tea, whereupon she suddenly tripped and spilled it all over me just as I was taking it from her hand.

 ‘Aaargh! Help, I’m on fire!’ I screamed, leaping to my feet in agony as I clasped my scalded knees.

‘Oh, Lord Grumpkin, I’m so sorry, that was terribly clumsy of me! Here, let me wipe you dry, ’ she responded, pulling out her hanky to dab off the tea.

‘Get that thing off me,’ came my indignant cry, ‘I need a skin graft, not a blanket bath! Someone take me to the Burns Unit before I die of pain!’

‘Now, now then, do try to calm down, Lord Grumpkin, it’s really not that bad. See, your skin is barely even pink, and as everyone knows, applying tea to a burn is in fact an excellent remedy.’

‘What, are you completely mad? With logic like that, I suppose you’d say that a good remedy for a bee sting would be to swallow the bee!’

‘Well, actually…’ But before Nurse Glob could continue she was interrupted by a rather spectacular bird calling me from a nearby room.

‘Grumpkin Rat?’ she enquired, glancing up briefly to note my multiple limb encasements. ‘I’m Dr. Maggie Pie, the radiologist. I understand that you’ve recently had one or two little falls, so let’s see how you’re doing today, shall we?’

One or two little falls? I was just beginning to think that no one here had the slightest respect for the gravity of my condition, when who should appear out of nowhere but my favourite physiotherapist in the whole wide world — the winsome and wonderful Australian practitioner, Aurora Australis!

‘Good day, Grumps, how’s it going? You know, you’re not looking so good. If you’re thinking of losing the plaster casts, you should probably wait a bit longer till your strength comes back.’

‘Well, thank you, Aurora, my thoughts exactly,’ I said, my heart welling up in gratitude at the sound of those words. Oh, what a huge moment this was – she alone had understood me! She had seen past my masquerade of bravery and into the very depths of my soul. But was this merely friendship, or the seed of true love? That wasn’t clear, but it did make me decide one thing: I must at all costs keep up the physiotherapy till I knew the answer for sure…

Meanwhile I had my X-rays as planned, and then returned to the waiting room to allow Dr. Pie enough time to scrutinise them before giving me the verdict. After that, it wasn’t long before she called me back in to explain the situation.

‘Well, I’ll get straight to the point, Mr. Rat,’ she began, taking her laptop and swinging it round to face me. ‘I’m afraid we have a bit of a problem. What you see here is an X-ray of your left leg showing the pins we put in to secure it in the proper position. But as you will notice from the picture, two of the pins have slipped out, meaning that the leg has now started to heal crooked. Of course this is not the result we wanted, and I’m very sorry.’

‘Okay,’ I said, as the message gradually filtered through, ‘but you can fix it, right?’

‘Oh, yes, we can certainly fix it,’ the doctor answered. ‘Unfortunately for you, though, this will mean further surgery.’

‘I need another operation?’ At that, heaviness rolled over me like a tidal wave. Surely this couldn’t be happening! I would squeeze my eyes shut, then when they opened again, none of it would be real. But when they flashed open and I heard the doctor still speaking, I knew I wasn’t dreaming.

 ‘In such a case as yours time is of the essence, so I’ve arranged for you to be admitted today. We can carry out the procedure this afternoon,’ she told me. Then her voice softened, and she peered at me kindly before adding, ‘I realise of course that all of this must come as quite a shock to you, Mr. Rat. Do you have any questions that you’d like to ask me?’

‘Well, yes, there is one, Doctor,’ I replied, as I swiftly gathered up my scattered thoughts. ‘How long is it going to take before I’m back on my feet?’

‘All being well, you could be walking on crutches in just a few days,’ she said, ‘but we must be realistic. Complete healing won’t happen overnight. Sad to say, it’s going to take many weeks till you’re fully back to normal.’

‘Many weeks?’ For a moment I slumped forward in my chair, overwhelmed. Then I looked up and said, ‘Will I still go on having physiotherapy?’

‘Oh, definitely! Physiotherapy is essential to your recovery, so after surgery you’ll be prescribed daily sessions for at least the first six weeks,’ came the answer.

Daily physiotherapy sessions? With this news, at long last I felt a smile slowly break across my face. 

‘Are you in pain, Mr. Rat?’ enquired Dr. Pie in mild surprise.

‘No, actually, all my pain is gone now,’ I said, beaming back at her.

‘It is?’ She appeared sceptical, tipping her head sideways to fix me with a penetrating stare. ‘Well, I’m sorry to say that might be a bad sign, Mr. Rat, so in light of this I think we really need to act immediately. We’re going to have to get you prep’d and into surgery as soon as possible! Please wait outside while I check to see which operating theatre we can use.’

‘What, you mean, now?’

‘Loss of feeling in an injured limb can be extremely serious, Mr. Rat, so if you want to walk again, I’m afraid there’s no time to lose.’

I don’t recall much about what happened after that. But it seems things must have moved along pretty fast, because before I knew it, someone was asking me to count backwards from ten. Well, I tried my hardest to oblige, and in all fairness, I did manage to get back as far as eight. However, it was then that I realised I hadn’t a clue what came next, and despite fighting against it for as long as I could, everything finally went black…

As for the operation itself, despite being prolonged and difficult, this was nonetheless pronounced a resounding success by Dr. Whizzle the Weasel, my orthopaedic surgeon. Following this I was returned to the ward to regain consciousness, where bizarrely, the first awareness that came to me was a powerfully strong smell of lavender.

Lavender? In a hospital? 

No, that had to be a mistake, it just didn’t make any sense! So I prized open my eyelids and squinted carefully around me, trying to solve the mystery. And that’s when I saw it: a huge great lavender plant sitting on the table next to my bed, with a gold ribbon tied around the pot and a little envelope tucked into the bow. Still groggy from the anaesthetic, I reached over and removed the ‘Get well’ card from the envelope, only to discover that by all appearances I had a secret admirer. Well naturally, fans, having admirers is nothing new for me, since as you all know I’m a world famous superstar with a massive fan base. But what was intriguing here was the fact that whoever had written the card had simply signed it with three large X’s, implying something rather more than admiration… and with this I was instantly wide awake!

‘Nurse!’ I called out to a passing member of staff. ‘Did you see who gave me this?’ Then as she shook her head and hurried on to the next patient, I caught sight of Aurora Australis just entering the ward, lowering her eyes to avoid mine. But why wouldn’t she look at me? And then the penny dropped. Of course, I should have guessed it from the start — this enchanting creature was in love with me! That explained the anonymous gift which she must have left as a romantic gesture, hoping that I felt the same way. Oh happy accident that caused our paths to cross, how willingly would I have suffered a thousand falls just to have her near! Then surprisingly, she, too, rushed on by without stopping, so that my gaze fell instead on the grey and glutinous Nurse Glob who stood by my bedside — a veritable varmint that seemed forever glued to me — and I was filled with disgust!

What, was she still here?

Didn’t she have any bed pans to empty, or perhaps a cup of tea to throw over some other poor, unwary invalid? Surely she must have many patients to attend to, so why spend all this time with me? Yet despite that, she clearly wasn’t going anywhere and it was starting to feel a lot like being stalked. Then, as if she had read my mind: 

‘Nice plant, Lord Grumpkin, would you like me to water it for you?’ she asked with a cheery smile, her nose thrusting deep into my personal space.

‘Very nice,’ I snapped back, ‘but no, thanks, that won’t be necessary.’

‘Ah, now, we mustn’t let it dry out, must we?’ she insisted. ‘It would be such a pity to let it die, why don’t I take it to the kitchen and give it a good drink?’

‘I said, thanks, but no thanks,’ I insisted in my turn. 

‘It’s no trouble, honestly,’ she said, ‘I’ll have it back again in a jiffy.’ And then before I could say another word, she had seized it with both hands and marched it off to the kitchen. 

Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so shocked by what happened next. After all, Gypsy Georgette’s words were still ringing in my ears, and it wasn’t as if I’d had no suspicions about this nurse… however I was completely unprepared for what she did on her return.

‘Here it is as promised, safe and sound,’ she announced as she replaced the plant on my bedside table. And then, ‘I don’t do this sort of thing for all my patients, you know, it’s just such an honour to have you to take care of, Lord Grumpkin! Now is there anything else I can do for you before the end of my shift?’ 

Noting with distaste that little flutter of her eyelashes again, I responded with a curt: ‘No thanks, Nurse, that will be all.’

‘Well, at least let me adjust your bed for you. You’re sitting almost bolt upright, you’ll never get a good night’s sleep like that.’ 

So saying, she grasped the crank that was meant to lower it, and then gave it several tugs, but to no avail. ‘Dear me, something must be stuck,’ she muttered, changing her grip and trying again. Then when that didn’t work either, she took a step back, gathered her strength, and gave it a mighty kick. Upon this the whole bed collapsed, yanking my leg out of its sling and unpinning all of its newly repaired bones!

‘AARGH, AARGH!!’ I screamed, overcome by excruciating pain. 

‘Now, now, then, Lord Grumpkin, it’s really not that bad,’ said Nurse Glob. Look, I’ve put your foot back up in the sling, and everything’s fine. After all, everyone knows that it’s good to move about after surgery, it helps the circulation and speeds up the recovery process. So sleep well, and I’ll be back to see how you are first thing tomorrow morning.’ Then after bending forwards, she whispered these words in my ear: ‘Sweet dreams, my dear Super-Rat. Here’s something to remember me by till we’re together again…’ 

And with that she closed her eyes, pursed her lips, and planted a great big sloppy wet kiss on my forehead!

Well, hello fans, and may I say what a pleasure it is to finally be back home! It’s been many weeks since I fell off a ladder while soundproofing the ceiling, and after such an extended time in hospital I can’t tell you how good it is to be able to sleep in my own bed at long last. Of course, I’m not on my feet again yet. Unfortunately, my right arm and both of my legs are still in plaster owing to a number of compound fractures which have had to be surgically reset. But in spite of this I’m delighted to report that the accident has brought some unexpected blessings. First, I’ve been assigned a gorgeous physiotherapist called Aurora Australis, who’s been putting me through a rigorous regime of exercises which she will now continue to help me work on at home. And second, thanks to my neighbour George McAcker (or ‘Mac the Hacker’ to his friends) I have just taken possession of a brand new device that is able to control all the appliances in my house by means of commands that I can shout at it from the comfort of my own bed! Okay, so let’s give it a try… 

‘Lexie, turn on the lights!’

Well, blow me. I haven’t touched a thing, yet thanks to the wonders of modern technology the lights have just come on all by themselves! All right, then, how about this:

‘Lexie, close the curtains!’

And, yes, brilliant! All the curtains are closing themselves while I do nothing but snuggle back into my pillows. I tell you the truth, fans, I could get used to this! Now let’s see, what else can I get it to do? 

I know: ‘Lexie, make me some coffee!’

Good job George left the coffee machine all ready to go by my bedside. I see it bubbling into action as a delicious aroma starts to fill the air. It smells simply divine, and I can’t wait to taste it! I hear the machine clicking off as it finishes the job, so I lean eagerly over to my right to collect the steaming mug… and then, as my arm encased in plaster falls inches short of its target:

‘Lexie – call George and get him round here IMMEDIATELY!’

Sure enough, in next to no time there’s the sound of someone knocking outside. ‘Lexie, open the door,’ I call out. Then to my surprise who should enter the room but a total stranger – a skinny little house mouse bearing a large flat box.

‘Your pizza, sir,’ he says, passing it to me as he speaks.

‘Pizza? I didn’t order a pizza,’ I tell him, grabbing it with my left hand to save it falling off the bed.

‘Well somebody did, so that will be five pounds I’m afraid, sir.’

‘What? Five pounds? How on earth could a mix-up like this happen?’

‘Sorry sir, don’t have a clue. All I know is, someone from here called George’s Pizzeria a few minutes ago and ordered a tomato and mushroom pizza.’

‘They did…?’ 

This has got me really foxed, but by now the warm, inviting smell rising from the box is making my tummy rumble. ‘Oh, well, never mind, come to think of it I am a bit peckish, so perhaps I’ll take it after all,’ I say, reaching into the purse that I keep under the sheets..

‘Thank you sir, enjoy your meal.  And don’t worry, I’ll see myself out,’ he says as he turns to leave. Then as soon as he’s gone I tear open the package and take the first delicious bite of my unplanned meal. 

However more minutes pass and there’s still no sign of Mac the Hacker, so I’m beginning to wonder what he’s playing at. 

‘Lexie, where is George McAcker?’ I demand impatiently. 

‘The current whereabouts of George McAcker are unknown,’ is her reply.

‘Unknown? What kind of an answer do you call that?’ 

‘I call that kind of answer correct,’ states the voice. ‘The current whereabouts of George McAcker are unknown.’

‘Well, can’t you track his movements on the internet?’ 

‘Unable to comply. No tracking device for George McAcker has been detected.’

‘But that’s ridiculous, surely there’s some way you can find out where he is? Now stop making excuses and get on with it!’

‘Unable to comply,’ comes the stock reply.

‘For goodness sake, you’re totally useless! Fine, then I’ll do it myself,’ I explode. ‘Lexie, pass me my keyboard so I can go online.’

‘Unable to comply,’ says Lexie for the third time. Then just as I’m about to read her the riot act, there’s another loud knock at the door… 

‘At last, what in the world took him so long?’ I exclaim, sitting bolt upright in bed to welcome my friend. But it isn’t Mac the Hacker who strides into the room. Instead I come face to face with a large crested newt who has brought with him an even larger bag of tools.

‘Lord Grumpkin, is it?’ he asks, dumping his oversized tool bag on the floor. ‘Sorry I’m late, I came as quick as I could from another emergency callout. But from what you said on the phone this shouldn’t take long, so why don’t you show me the leaking pipe and I’ll fix it right away?’

‘Leaking pipe, what leaking pipe? Who are you, the local plumber?’

‘Me? I’m George Jones, the odd job man. I can fix anything from electricals to waterworks, and I’m also a decorator and a master carpenter. So what can I do for you today, Lord Grumpkin? Your call indicated it was urgent.’

‘I’m sorry, there seems to be some mistake. I haven’t called you today or any other day, and I certainly haven’t requested a callout.’

‘You mean, you don’t have any dripping taps or blown fuses for me to fix?’ 

‘Sorry, no.’

‘No furniture to repair?’

‘No.’

‘No paint jobs that need doing?’

‘Uh-uh.’ I shake my head.

Then without missing a beat, ‘Right, then, that will be forty five pounds, please,’ he says, standing there expectantly.

‘You can’t be serious! You’ve done no work, yet you’re asking to be paid?’

‘Oh, no, forty five pounds is just my call-out charge. After that, as my customers know, any work I do is charged at sixty pounds an hour, and then VAT is added on top for both parts and labour. I’m really surprised that you weren’t aware of that, Lord Grumpkin. Didn’t you read the Ts & Cs on my website?’

‘I thought I made it quite clear to you that I have no need of an odd job man, Mr. Jones! So no, I didn’t read the Ts & Cs on your website, or on anyone else’s website for that matter,’ I growl back from between clenched teeth.

‘Ah, well, that explains it then. It was an expensive mistake, but you’ll know better next time, won’t you? Take my advice, before you call out a tradesman you should always read the Ts & Cs.’ 

‘But I didn’t call you out!’ I shout back at him in fury.

‘Of course you didn’t, Lord Grumpkin, and that’s why I’m here,’ he says simply. ‘Now if you don’t mind, I have another customer waiting for me and I am running a bit late, so if you’ll just give me my money I’ll be on my way.’

With that news I feel all the blood leaching out of my brain and into my racing heart, and as I struggle to restrain my temper the room begins to spin. But then I am astonished to hear myself say, ‘Okay, but all I have is a fifty pound note. Do you have change?’

‘No problem,’ he replies. And then I watch in horror as my hand passes him the cash.

It’s only when he’s gone that I take full stock of the damages. For the animal population of this country, human currency is extremely hard to acquire, and as such, is at a premium. But despite this, it seems that in a moment of insanity I have just given away nearly all of the Pounds Sterling that I possess. Therefore since in my condition I’m hardly fit enough to dig for worms (which are the traditional animal currency), I have no clue as to how I’m going to be able to pay for goods and services till I’m well again. Oh, what have I done? Overwhelmed by my own stupidity, I am just sinking into the pit of despair when there is one more knock at the door. But before I have time to respond it bursts abruptly open, whereupon yet a third stranger sweeps into the house. Now I find myself struck dumb at the sight of a dark rat clothed in a scarlet flamenco dress, with a purple shawl draped mysteriously across her face as if to conceal her identity. Who in heaven’s name can this be? Then as if she’s read my mind, she leans towards me and in cool, calm tones, answers my deepest unspoken questions…

‘Ah, Lord Grumpkin, you poor soul! I see you are filled with worry, in such a flurry over what the future holds! Do you want your fortune told? Then come to me, I’ll not withhold the truth exposed by my crystal ball.’

‘You can foretell my future?’ I am both amazed and delighted at the prospect.

‘Indeed I can,’ she tells me. ‘I am Gypsy Georgette, born with the gift of second sight to the world famous Del Magico family. But now be warned! I can’t do right unless I tell you all, keeping nothing back. In other words, you should know that whatever I say, no matter how black, will most certainly befall you.’ With this she peers into my eyes with an intense, hypnotic stare. 

‘It will…?’ I murmur helplessly, my gaze melting into hers.

‘Without a doubt! But remember this: in the speed of a lightning strike I can out the truth and reveal your fate, but once this is done, your predicted future can’t be changed. It will unfold at a time too late to undo your foreknowledge of it. So consider this well: is knowing it in advance really what you choose? For while you may have much to gain, you’ll also have much to lose.’

‘Yes, yes, I choose to know, please tell me all!’ I reply in an enraptured haze, entirely caught up in her spell.

‘If that’s your choice then I’ll gladly be the voice of your future,’ she says. ‘And you may be confident of this – once you turn to Gypsy Georgette, what I see is what you get!’ 

Then suddenly, I know not from where, she has produced a little table. Onto this table, amid much arm waving and incantation, she now places a crystal ball, which has started to brighten with a glowing light that beams out from its core. Now she bends her head over the orb and draws her purple wrap down over her face, so that she alone communes with the crystal and its secrets, while I am left in bed to observe the scene before me in silent awe. Minutes pass with much moaning and mumbling and heaving about under the shawl, till I’m beginning to wonder if the whole thing is in fact nothing more than a prank, a cruel hoax intended to make fun of my misery. But then next instant, in a wild and sudden move, Gypsy Georgette casts her wrap backwards onto the floor and leaps to her feet with a great gasp of emotion.

‘What is it, what’s wrong?’ I cry in alarm.

‘Oh my – I’m so sorry, Lord Grumpkin, the light was blinding, I just couldn’t look anymore! That’s never happened before.’

‘Is it bad news?’ The question falls from my lips in a hushed whisper.

‘Not bad news, exactly,’ comes the response. ‘To put it matter-of-factly, I’d probably call it surprising, that’s all.’

‘Well, what did the crystal ball tell you?’ By now I can hardly wait to hear.

‘Oh, goodness, where to start…? Let’s see, as I recall it all began with a ladder and a fall, then after that I saw you in a hospital bed with a pretty female taking care of your needs. She was using beads to try to get your fingers and toes to strengthen their grip.’’

‘That’s right, I fell from a ladder weeks ago while doing some DIY. The female you saw must have been my physiotherapist, Aurora Australis.’

‘Yes, but then later that night a different person took over your care. You had not been aware of the staff change, but one way or another this event led to a second accident where you were injured again and left in great pain.’

‘That’s all true, Gypsy Georgette, but why are we talking about my past?’ I say in disappointed tones. ‘I thought you were going to tell me something I didn’t already know.’

‘Have no fear, I shall soon speak of your future, Lord Grumpkin,’ she replies. ‘But first I must make something clear: Not everything you thought was true at the time was what it seemed.’

‘What…? What are you saying, that I didn’t fall? That I have no broken bones?’

‘Oh, no, you fell all right, and you broke many bones. That’s not what I mean. This has to do with the night of your fall and your medical team.’

‘My medical team?’ Now I am at a loss to understand her.

‘Yes. You should know that there’s one who stands to profit from your plight, who on that night made sure it would take many weeks before you could walk again.’

At this the full horror of her statement knocks me sideways. ‘But who on my medical team would do such a thing, and what could he possibly gain by it?’

‘What could SHE gain by it? Well, here is the shocking truth: On the night you were admitted, a certain person fell deeply in love with you and vowed that she would never let you go. Now she has you bound by the belief that only she can bring relief to your injured limbs. And because it’s in her best interests for you to take as long as possible to get well, I’m sorry to say she’s taken extreme measures to achieve that goal.’ Then seeing my stunned expression, ‘Do forgive me, you must be totally bowled over by this news.’ 

‘Who is she? Tell me, I have to know!’ I spit the words out.

‘If only I could, Lord Grumpkin! But on pain of death I am forbidden to name or even describe this person to you. Despite this, I must warn you again that though she seems to be your friend, she is in fact very dangerous and will pursue you to the end. Indeed, it was after seeing her face that I was blinded by the light just a few moments ago.’

‘But you can’t leave me like this, you have to help me!’ I cry in desperation as I watch her gather up her things. ‘Please tell me something, anything, that can give me a clue to her identity!’

‘Think carefully back over the things I’ve had to say, Lord Grumpkin. You’ll find the answer that you seek in the words I spoke to you today…’ And with that mysterious remark, just as suddenly as she swept into my house, she is gone.

Now I lie in bed drained as if from a heavy bout of flu. Too weak even to think, let alone move, I am just slipping into a dreamless sleep when a familiar voice rouses me from my stupor:

‘There are no more people who have the first name George or any similar first name listed in the telephone directory,’ announces Lexie. ‘Do you now wish me to call all those people who have the surname George?’