Neeta’s Grandmother had a headache.
It started when Neeta wailed throughout her brother’s wedding because the horse he’d ridden was going away after the ceremony.
Then, because the caterers used the back-garden as a rubbish tip, every animal pest in town had been drawn there – fruitflies, butterflies, even the zebra that had escaped from the Delhi zoo!
Now Neeta was refusing to let anyone take the zebra away.
“It’s mine! I drew it with your magic Pen!”
Grandmother snapped.
“If I HAD a magic pen, I’d write this week off as a nightmare!”
Neeta sat down and started to cry.
