The Kidnapped Kitten

Laura tried to tell Tia that it was unlikely anyone would try and steal Milly, and she hadn’t meant to scare her. She was still letting Charlie go out, but only when she was around to keep an eye on him. “Just to be safe,” she explained.

Tia calmed down enough to finish her juice. But she refused a biscuit, and as she hurried back home she couldn’t help keeping an eye out for cat thieves. What would they look like, though?

Tia went down the side of her house to the back garden. Milly loved it out there. She bounced in and out of the plants, and spied on the bird table. Tia had noticed that only the bravest birds came to it now.

But Milly wasn’t sitting underneath the bird table and she didn’t come when Tia called, like she usually did. She was nowhere to be seen.

“Milly! Milly!” Tia called anxiously. She ran down the garden to look over the back fence into Mr Jackson’s garden. Milly liked it over there. Mr Jackson had a goldfish pond. She had climbed the fence at the side of the garden, too, but the people next door had a spaniel called Max, and he had barked at Milly so loudly that she’d jumped straight down again.

Just as Tia reached the back fence and looked through the trellis on the top, there was a splashing sound and a horrified yowl. Then something bounded across Mr Jackson’s garden. A small, bedraggled thing, trailing long streamers of green weed.

“That cat of yours is after my goldfish!” Mr Jackson shouted crossly to Tia. “Little menace!”

Milly jumped on to Mr Jackson’s compost bin and then up on to the fence, where Tia reached up and grabbed her. She shuddered at the clammy wet fur – Milly was soaking.

“I’m really sorry!” Tia gasped to the old man. “We’ll keep her inside!”

“We’ll have to,” she murmured to Milly, as she carried her down the garden. “Maybe we’d better lock the catflap, so you can only go out when one of us with you. I know you won’t like that much, but I’m not going to let anyone steal you!”

Tia was quite right. Milly was most unimpressed with being shut inside. She always followed Tia and Christy when they went out into the garden. She would chase the football, and sometimes Tia carried her up on to their climbing frame. Christy had forgiven her for shredding Owly now, and she would dance down the garden trailing bits of string for Milly to pounce on. But sometimes Milly wanted to go outside on her own, too. It wasn’t the same watching the birds from the kitchen windowsill.

Often she sat in the front window instead, especially in the afternoon, when she knew that Tia and Christy would soon be home. People sometimes pointed at her, and Milly could tell that they were saying nice things. One blond-haired man seemed to walk past the house quite often, just to see her. He always stopped and looked at her for ages. And at the other cat, the one that lived across the road.

Milly liked to stare at the other cat as well. But he usually pretended not to see her.

“Look, Christy, Milly’s watching for us again,” Tia pointed to Milly, sitting in the front window, and Milly leaped for the back of the sofa. She would jump from there to the arm, and then on to the floor to meet them at the front door.

“Nice cat!” There was a young man with blond hair walking slowly past their house on the way to his van. He was jingling the keys in his hand, and he smiled at Tia and Christy. “Is she yours? Does she always run and meet you like that?”

Tia smiled back. She loved it when people admired Milly. “Yes,” she said proudly.

“She’s beautiful. What is she, a Bengal?”

“Yes, she’s four months old,” Tia said.

The man smiled again and walked over to his blue van, which was parked further up the road.

Mum hurried up behind them. “Who was that you were talking to?” she asked.

“Oh – well, he was asking about Milly,” Tia said, frowning. She hadn’t really thought about it, but the man was a stranger, of course. “He seemed nice…” she added.

“No, he wasn’t,” Christy said firmly. “I didn’t like him.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Christy,” Tia muttered, as Mum started to tell her off for chatting to people she didn’t know.

“You were just coming, Mum. You were almost with us,” Tia muttered. But she had a horrible feeling now that Mum and Christy were right. She shouldn’t have spoken to him. She sighed. “I suppose we shouldn’t tell people Milly’s a Bengal, should we? In case someone tries to steal her.”

Mum put an arm around her shoulder. “I’m sure that won’t happen, Tia. But next time, just say that I’m the person to ask, and come and get me! Come on, let’s get in the house. Milly’s probably having a fit by now.”

Tia had hoped that Milly would get used to staying inside, but the kitten still took every chance she could to sneak out. And she moved so fast she was very good at it.

One lunchtime, when Mum was just heading out for work, Milly slipped round her legs, aiming for the open door. But Mum swooped down and caught her just before she could escape.

“No, sweetie. I know you don’t like staying inside, but it’s to keep you safe.” Mum sighed. “Hopefully the police will catch those awful cat thieves soon. It’s been weeks. You stay there, and I’ll be back later with Tia and Christy.”

Crossly, Milly prowled back into the living room and jumped up on to the windowsill, watching Mum hurry away down the street. She hated it when they all went out. There was nothing to do. The cat on the other side of the road wasn’t even sitting in his window for her to look at.

And she was hungry. She uncurled herself, jumped down and wandered out into the kitchen to see if there was some food left in her bowl. There wasn’t.

Milly stalked over to the cat flap and glared at it. She didn’t understand why it didn’t work any more. It would let her back in from the garden, but now it would never let her out. She pawed at it, just in case, but it still didn’t work. It rattled though, which was a good noise, so Milly pawed it again. This time, the catflap shook, and Milly got a delicious whiff of fresh garden air as the flap opened inwards a little way. Then it clicked shut again.

Milly stared at it. It had definitely been a bit open. She banged at it harder this time, and it flew open a little more. Enough for her to stick her paw in and stop it clicking closed.

Purring with excitement, the kitten wriggled her other paw into the gap and then poked her nose in too, flipping the cat flap all the way up, so she could jump out. She stared back at it triumphantly as she stood on the doorstep, and then she pranced out into the garden.

It was sunny and warm, and everything smelled good. Milly padded across the patio, sniffing here and there, and glancing up at the birds that circled and twittered overhead.

It was the smell of the wheelie bins that made her go down the side path. She was hungry, and although the smell wasn’t quite right, there was definitely food in there somewhere. She pattered curiously down the path and sniffed around the bottom of the bins. She was just considering trying to scramble up on to the top of one when next-door’s dog, Max, came galloping down the garden on his side of the fence, barking his head off.

Milly shot down the path like a rocket, her tail fluffing up. She remembered Max, all big teeth and flying ears. She wasn’t sure if he could get through the fence, but she wasn’t going to wait around to find out. She bounded into the front garden and jumped up on to the wall. She then licked her paws furiously, swiping them over her ears. She felt hot and bothered and cross, and washing helped – a little.

The sun was warm, and slowly her tail smoothed down again. Milly’s eyes half-closed as she watched the cars going past.

One of the cars stopped, a blue van that she was sure she had seen before. A young man with blond hair got out. Milly pricked up her ears. She had seen him before. He always stopped to admire her in the window. She pretended not to notice the man as he walked up the street, and she gave him a haughty look as he made friendly kissy noises at her.

But she couldn’t hold out for long.

She padded gracefully down the wall to let the man stroke her ears and tickle her under the chin.

Milly didn’t even mind when he picked her up – she liked to be cuddled.

But then he locked his hand tightly around the scruff of her neck and hurried down the road with her. He opened the back of his blue van and stuffed her into a cat carrier.

And then he drove away while Milly howled and scrabbled and fought to get out.