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smell of her rose-petal scent, to be replaced by the faintest whiff of pond water.
    The first thing Mimi did was look around nervously for the bees through the pink-tinted lenses of her pink-framed spectacles.
    “Don’t worry about them,” said Sunny, pointing towards the broken honey jar on the driveway. “That should keep them busy for a while.”
    Mimi’s whole body suddenly seemed to sag and she lowered herself on to the stone rim of the pond, sitting down with a bump.

    “Thanks,” she said, looking up at Sunny, who was panting from the chase. “Thanks for rescuing me.”
    “Rescuing?”
    “For suggesting I jump in the pond. I would never have thought of it,” said Mimi. She seemed to be taking in the boy’s appearance for the first time: the sticky-up hair, the sticky-out ears and the blue dress. “I’m Mimi.”
    “I’m Sunny,” said Sunny. “Pleased to meet you.”
    “And I’m Sack,” said the gardener. “We’d better get away from here before His Lordship starts wondering what’s going on.’
    Sack headed off in the direction of his potting shed, with Sunny and Mimi following close behind. Every step she made was accompanied by a squelch from the water inher shoes.
    “Do you know the man with the beard?” Mimi asked Sunny.
    “What man?” asked Sunny.
    “The man with the beard of bees that decided to chase me?”
    “Oh,” said Sunny, looking a little crestfallen. “He’s my dad. He doesn’t usually go around with a beard of bees. I’m pretty sure this was his first time. He kicked an electricity pylon that annoyed them, and they took a liking to his face—”
    “Until I came along,” said Mimi as she squelched.
    “Well, you do have a much nicer face,” said Sunny, then turned an interesting shade of pink when he realised what he’d just said.
    “You think so?” she asked.
    “Yes.” He blushed some more. “Andobviously the bees thought so too. And you smell – well, you smell ed – fantastic.”
    “You liked that? It’s my very own home-made rose-petal scent.”
    “It smelled delicious,” said Sunny.
    “You’re not supposed to drink it!” Mimi laughed.
    “You know what I mean,” said Sunny.
    “Yes.” Mimi nodded. “I know what you mean.”
    “Do you work here?” Sunny asked.
    “She’s the boot boy,” said Sack, who’d come to a halt and was fumbling for a key in his pocket.
    “But she’s a girl!” said Sunny.
    Mimi beamed. “My point exactly!” she said, and proceeded to give Sunny a big hug, the end result being that the front half of his dress looked a far darkerblue than the back half because of the wetness (and now he too had the slightest whiff of pond water about him).
    Sack and Sunny waited outside the potting shed, while Mimi slipped inside, reappearing at the door a few minutes later dressed in one of Sack’s overalls. “I’ll put the kettle on,” she said.

    Soon all three were sitting around a little camping stove, three chipped enamel mugs in front of them and the kettle well on its way to boiling.
    “So you live with your family in that – er – that—”
    “Caravan?” said Sunny. “Yes. Dad built it himself, with a little help from his dad, Old Mr Grunt.”
    “It’s unlike any caravan I’ve ever seen,” said Mimi, which was no word of a lie.
    Sunny didn’t really get much of an opportunity to talk to other people so, despite the unusual circumstances, he really enjoyed his time with Mimi and Sack that afternoon. He enjoyed the tea too, when it had brewed. The so-called tea they drank back in the caravan was usually made of any old leaves Mr or Mrs Grunt decided to pick, dry and put in the tea caddy, and Mrs Grunt sometimes simply held a corner of her dress over a cup, and poured hot water through it to give the water a bit of colour and taste. The tea he drank in the potting shed that day was real tea made from real tea leaves. It was delicious.

    Sack’s conversation was less enjoyable. He spent most of the time moaning