"For a hundred and fifty dollars."

That's right."

Mum suddenly dropped the cat and came over to give Dad a hug. She kissed him on the mouth (I looked somewhere else when she did this, it was rather embarrassing), then she held his hands like she'd suddenly fallen in love with him all over again.

"You know what?" she said.

"No, what?"

"We'll be rich. We can cut this bean-stalk down and sell it as firewood!"

"Sounds like a good idea," said Dad.

"We'll be able to buy food, and clothes, and a new car." said Mum.

"And a new cricket bat?" I said.

"Anything you want." said Mum.

"A new car would be nice," said Dad, pulling at his chin.

"And Tootsie can have a basket, and eat the best steak." said Mum.

"Yes!" I shouted, bouncing round the room.

Soon after that a helicopter arrived. It circled the massive trunk several times, while someone inside it took photographs, then it hovered over our roof and someone came down on a rope. We heard loud thumps as boots walked across the iron above our heads, then a man lowered himself down and swung in through a window.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"We're fine," said Dad, hugging me and Mum.

"Have you come to rescue us?" I asked.

"That's right," said the man, "Unless you want to climb down?"

"No thanks!"

So we were taken one at a time and winched up into the helicopter. (Tootsie had to stay behind. She was like a hedgehog, all bristly with claws and teeth, and hissing.) It was the strangest thing to be hanging under