Fiddler, Delta and Hazel had spent a whole night in that darkened room. Each had taken it in turns to keep watch in case the humans came for them and when morning came it was Delta who was on look out.

It was the growling of the rat’s empty stomach that woke the two mice. Hazel sat up and rubbed her eyes sleepily. Her sight had long since adjusted to the dark and she smiled as Fiddler yawned widely next to her.

Delta patted his empty stomach and smiled wryly at the two mice. “Good morning to you both, I’d have breakfast in bed for y’ but we’re not likely to find food in this place.”

Fiddler peered into the darkness. “I wonder what sort of room this is?”

Hazel shrugged. “Who cares as long as we get out before the man comes back.” The pretty mouse set about grooming her whiskers meticulously.

Fiddler looked at her. “Hazel, why on earth did you come here in the first place?”

Hazel sat up. “Oh, I almost forgot!” Then she laughed and smiled at Fiddler a little sheepishly. “I thought you two might be in trouble so I came to rescue you. Turned out to be the other way around didn’t it?” She looked at Fiddler more seriously. “I also thought I might be able to talk you out of filming humans.”

Fiddler shook his head. “No chance, my mind's made up and I’m not going back. I have an award to win, Hazel.”

“But can’t you see it’s dangerous, Fiddler?”

“No,” muttered Delta. “He can’t.”

Fiddler looked at the rat suspiciously, then pushed him playfully. “Don’t worry, me ole rat, I’ll get us out of this mess. Let’s start by searching the room for another way out.”

The three friends separated and went off to search the room. It wasn't long for each of them to discover they were in a pantry.

“Hey, Delta! You can eat to your heart’s content in this place, mate,” cried Fiddler from somewhere in the darkness. “Look what we got here, vegetables! Potatoes, carrots, celery, tomatoes. I love tomatoes!”

Delta found himself in front of a bag of apples. He munched one happily and called back to Fiddler, “Apples this way, pears too!”

Hazel listened as Fiddler and Delta bantered happily to each other in the gloom as if nothing in the world was wrong. She felt her way along the skirting board until suddenly she found what she was looking for. A mouse hole! There it was as clear as daylight. Mice had visited the house before. With a call, she beckoned her companions to view her find.

“That’s our way out,” she said triumphantly, as Fiddler and Delta arrived on the scene.

Fiddler inspected the hole and even took a quick peek inside to see if it was in use. He stood back and shrugged. “Stands to reason mice have been here before what with all this food about. It’s still used by the look of those tracks in the dust there but I’d rather face a strange mouse than wait for the human to deal with us.”

Both Hazel and Delta nodded their agreement and together the three of them entered the mouse hole.

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Later that morning the human male returned with the cat in his arms. He quickly opened the door to the pantry and half-threw the cat in. Landing on all fours, the cat licked its paws distractedly as the man closed the door behind him.

“What on earth does he want me to do in here?” the cat asked himself haughtily. He stretched leisurely and lay down to wait for the girl to come and let him out for a cuddle. Purring, the cat curled up to sleep.

#

“Atchoo!”

“Shh!”

“Atchoo!”

“Shh!”

“Atchoo, I can’t shh, atchoo! Dust is making me sneeze!”

“Hold your nose.”

“Will you both be quiet?” Hazel hushed the pair. She was wary about being in another mouse’s home and didn’t want to be found out.

“Atchoo!” Delta sneezed again and sniffed. “Sorry.”

Fiddler stopped abruptly causing both Delta and Hazel to bump into him. His large ears swiveled and he held up a paw for silence.

Around a corner ahead of them a snout showed itself, sniffed the air, then disappeared. “Well,” said Fiddler cheerily, “the owner knows we’re here.”

A very old, very grey house mouse stepped out from behind the corner to confront them. He squinted up at them. “Who are you? What do you want? Why’re you here?” The old one fired questions at them. “What’s that? I want it!”

Delta backed off as the old mouse grabbed his camera case. Fiddler stepped forward with his paws in the air and tried to pacify the house mouse. “Hold hard there, old ‘un. I’m Fiddler and these are my good friends Delta and Hazel.”

The old mouse pouted like a spoilt youngster and stamped his footpaw on the ground. “Don’t care. Go ‘way!” He eyed Delta’s camera again, then with a cry he lunged forward and tried to snatch it from the rat’s grasp. “Gimme!”

Delta was by far stronger than the frail old mouse and he only had to pull the camera back gently before sending the old one sprawling across the floor.

“Yaaa haa haa!” the old mouse wailed, kicking his footpaws in a tantrum. “Bullies, trespassers, ruffians!”

Fiddler looked unconvinced by the act and raised his eyebrows at Delta who returned the look with a grin. Hazel on the other paw was full of concern for the old chap and she went to him and helped him up.

“There, there old fellow don’t go getting yourself all in a tizzy.” Hazel set about brushing the old one’s fur free of dust for him. “That’s better, I hope Delta didn’t hurt you?”

The house mouse looked at the pretty young mouse before him and became all a fluster. He shuffled his paws and mumbled, “Er no, not too bad thankee, young ‘un.”

Fiddler and Delta watched in amusement as the old one stayed silent and allowed Hazel to fuss about him straightening his whiskers and smoothing his fur. “Um, my name’s Hebe in case you’d like to know,” said the old mouse, by now thoroughly soothed by Hazel.

Hazel smiled and curtsied prettily making the old mouse’s nose turn pink and sending him in scurrying off down the tunnel calling after him, “Follow me, miss Hazel, I’ll take ye to my home for a bite to eat. I’m expecting you’re hungry?”

Fiddler laughed. “You’ve charmed him all right, Hazel. C’mon let’s go see what he has on offer.”

They traveled only a short distance through the mouse run before they emerged into a larger room that had at one point been occupied by a whole host of house mice.

Fiddler sat himself down at the table in the middle of the room as Hebe set about making lunch for them all. “Where are we Hebe?” he asked.

Hebe laughed wheezily and set the plates on the table, bowing and nodding all the time to Hazel. “Why we’re under the human’s living room. Right under their noses.” He laughed again and then went into a fit of coughing.

Hazel patted the old mouse on the back. “Aren’t you worried about being so close to them?”

Hebe looked at her. “Why, no, miss Hazel. I’m a house mouse, born and raised near humans, not like you wood mice!”

Fiddler went into a whispered discussion with Delta as Hazel and Hebe continued to exchange pleasantries. “What a bit of luck runnin’ into him, mate. He’ll know all about humans, we can use that!”

Delta nodded. “Aye, and chances are we’ll be a lot safer around him too.”

“We must get back to the station as soon as we’ve eaten though.” Fiddler grinned. “Can you imagine, the boss’ll be as mad as anything when we finally waltz through the door five hours late! An’ I bet he’s been worried sick wondering where Hazel’s been.” He rubbed his paws together and licked his lips as a hot bowl of soup was placed in front of him. “Ah dandelion soup! My favourite, Hebe, you’re star.”