And One Time She Didn't.
Abigail had half expected Sugar to come out of the bushes once Bev and Melissa had left, but she hadn't, so Abigail had walked down to the bus stop at the end of Bev's street for the hour-and-twenty-minute trip home.
By the time she got off the Northern Line at Kentish Town station, twilight had set in and it was almost dark. She'd texted her parents, so they knew where she was and weren't worrying, but she was hurrying anyway because the temperature was dropping and she was getting cold.
As she turned into the estate past the playground, she saw a low, red form streak across the green to a nearby bush.
"Hey," Abigail said. "It's just me. Tell Sugar goodnight for me?"
But there was no answer. And as the fox darted to the next bush, she realized why: it wasn't a talking fox, it was too small. Just an ordinary London fox.
She hoped nobody had been around to see her mistake, and went home.