Ginger The Stray Kitten

Chapter Six

Ginger had felt so brave when he decided to leave the farm and look for a new home. He had waited until all the people were long gone, and the farm was dark and quiet. He would find somewhere warm and comfortable. Maybe he’d even find that friendly girl with the food.

But he hadn’t realized that the fence went all round the farm. It was very high, and it was pinned down tight to the ground. He couldn’t get out! Scratching and scrabbling at it didn’t work, and when he tried climbing it he fell. At last he had slunk miserably away to find a place to sleep. He’d hidden himself eventually in Mrs Bowen’s log-pile, at the back of the farmhouse. It wasn’t very comfortable, but it felt safe, far away from the builders’ noisy, smelly machines.

Most of the mice seemed to have been scared away by the men, too. He’d almost caught one once, but it had slipped into a hole at the last minute, leaving him worn out and hungrier than ever. It had seemed so easy when his mother did it. He’d found some rather fishy-tasting little round things by the fence over the last couple of days, but they hadn’t filled him up. He’d seen a fox hanging around as well, and he had a feeling it had picked all the best bits out of those bin bags, because there was nothing left.

Now he could feel himself growing weaker. Even though the rain leaked through into his log-pile nest and soaked him, he’d been grateful for it, as at least he wasn’t thirsty. He’d been able to lap the water caught in the old buckets that were lying around the yard. But he needed more than water. He was sure the men had food. He’d smelled it, delicious smells like the sandwiches the girl used to bring him. They had been very good. He had hoped she might come back, but probably she didn’t like the big machines either, he thought, as he drifted into a restless sleep.

Ginger was woken by the smell of ham sandwiches. A builder had stopped for lunch and was sitting on one of the big logs. The smell was irresistible. Ginger uncurled himself and crept out. The sandwiches were in an open box, lying next to the man. There was just one left, and out of it trailed a piece of wonderful pink ham. He had to have it. Ginger looked up at the man. He was staring across the yard, chewing slowly. He wouldn’t notice, would he?

Ginger darted a paw into the box, hooking the bread with his claws.

“Hey! Get out of it, you!” The man swiped at him with his hand! Ginger shot away in terror, without even a morsel of bread to show for it. He raced up the tree that had been left standing in a corner of the yard by the fence, and crouched flat on one of the branches, quivering with terror. No one had ever tried to hit him before. He looked down fearfully, digging his claws into the bark. He had never climbed a tree before either, but instinct had taken him to the safest place. The man hadn’t followed him.

Ginger stayed there for hours, too scared to move. By the middle of the afternoon, he felt it might be safe to come down from the tree. It wasn’t as easy as going up had been. He hadn’t really thought about going up, he’d just done it. He looked down from his branch – the ground seemed so far away… He was stuck!

Rosie only got through school that day because Millie kept nudging her, reminding her that Mrs Wilkinson was watching. Rosie would manage to listen or concentrate on what she was supposed to be doing for about five minutes, before she started thinking about Ginger again.

Millie was coming back to Gran’s for tea today, and they were planning to look for Ginger together. Rosie was glad – Millie was so enthusiastic about looking for him. Rosie had been disappointed so many times, it was hard to keep her hopes up.

Millie jogged ahead as they came up to the farm. “Wow! It really is a building site. Oh, Rosie, poor Ginger. He must be really scared with all those people around, and those great big diggers. It’s so noisy!”

Rosie nodded sadly and looked wearily through the fence into the farmyard. It looked so different now, with the barn gone and the yard covered in piles of rubble. She wasn’t expecting to see anything. But what was that in the big tree over there? Rosie peered through the wire fence and grabbed Millie’s sleeve.

“Millie! Gran! Look! Is that a cat in the tree? On that branch, there. No, no, there, look!”

A flash of ginger fur showed among the yellowing leaves. It was hard to see if it was a cat, but something was moving.

“You could be right…” Millie murmured doubtfully. “I can’t quite see.”

Gran was squinting through the fence at the tree. “I can’t tell either…”

“I am right! I know I am!” Rosie looked at them eagerly. “He’s there, he really is. Yes, I can see his stripes! Oh, I can’t believe it, I’d almost given up. Ginger! Ginger! I don’t think he can hear me, with all this noise.” She frowned. “Oh, Gran, he must be so scared with all this going on. We have to get him out, we just have to!”

She dashed along the fence to the gate, with Millie racing after her, and shouted to one of the men walking by. “Hey! Excuse me! Over here, please listen!”

But the man just walked past, trundling a wheelbarrow. He didn’t even look at Rosie and Millie. Rosie rattled the gate, but no one seemed to hear her, the site was too noisy.

Gran came up, looking anxious. “Rosie, calm down!”

“I can’t make anyone listen!” Rosie looked at her wildly. “They have to let us in so we can go and get him!”

Gran pulled them gently away from the gate. “Girls, come back, it’s a building site, I don’t think they’ll let us go in. Sshh, look, that man’s coming out. We’ll ask him.” Gran smiled politely at the builder, who was giving them a curious look.

“Excuse me, but have you seen a ginger kitten around at all? He used to live on the farm, and he’s disappeared. We think we might have just seen him in that tree.”

The builder shook his head. He didn’t look very interested. “No cats, sorry,” he said, starting to shut the gate.

“He is there!” Rosie cried. “We’ve just seen him, we know he’s there. You’ve knocked down his home, you might’ve hurt him! You have to let us find him!”

The builder looked confused, and Gran hugged Rosie tight. “Calm down, Rosie. Look, I’m sorry, the girls are very worried about the kitten. We really do think we saw him a minute ago. Could you please just keep an eye out for him?” She pulled an old till receipt out of her bag and scribbled on it. “This is my phone number. If you could call us if you see him, we’d be so grateful.”

The man took the note and stuffed it into the pocket of his reflective vest. Then he locked the gate, and walked off. Rosie watched him go, tears running down her nose. She was pretty sure he’d never look at the note again.

Gran shepherded Rosie and Millie away from the gate. She was worried the builders might get annoyed and tell them to stop hanging around.

From high up in the tree, Ginger had heard the voices. It was the girl! The one with the food, who did the stroking. She’d come back for him. He was sure that was why she was there. He tried desperately to scrabble down the tree trunk.

But now she was going! She couldn’t have seen him. He mewed frantically, please wait! But no one heard him. He took a flying leap from halfway down the tree trunk, and raced over to the fence.

Come back! Come back! I’m here!

But it was too late.