I can still remember the sense of panic. What could I tell the rest of the class on Monday morning? “Sorry, the mouse is imprisoned in a London bus, but we can still feed it through the window!” I remember my father saying, “There’s only one thing to do, son. We’ll have to destroy the bus!” And sure enough, he did. He took a knife and cut the roof open, and the mouse was free. I can’t tell you what a relief that was. But my bus was never the same. It really was rather curious: a bright red London