The Kitten Nobody Wanted

Chapter Eight

Whiskers sniffed around the strange room worriedly. He didn’t understand what was going on. He had been carried here in a box, and he hadn’t liked it, his claws catching and scratching on the cardboard as he slid around, mewing and hissing. Then he’d been let out in this strange new place. He was sure he’d never been there before, but it smelled familiar somehow, and there was a bowl of his favourite food, and some water. The old lady had watched him, but she hadn’t tried to pick him up. She’d just sat, very quietly, and every so often she murmured gently to him. He knew her. She came to visit with Mia sometimes – so why was she here, when Mia wasn’t?

It was all very odd. He’d hoped that Mia might come and see him, after she disappeared so quickly the day before. But what if she didn’t know where he was? He needed to get back home so Mia could find him.

The old lady had gone away now. She had hurried off when that doorbell rang. She’d closed the door behind her, Whiskers noticed, as he sniffed at it. Or almost, anyway. The latch hadn’t quite caught. Whiskers nosed it, and it swung open a little more. The curious kitten poked his whiskers round the door, and then his nose, and then the rest of him – and set off to search for Mia…

Whiskers pattered down the hallway, his nose twitching. He felt confused. Maybe Mia had come to find him after all. He was sure he could smell her. Or was he imagining it? He looked from side to side, wondering where to go. Food smells were coming from behind him, but from the noise it sounded like there were people upstairs. Stairs…

He trotted over, and looked up the flight of stairs. They were very steep. Luckily, they had carpet, or he would never have been able to get his claws in to struggle up. Whiskers scrambled up on to the first step, feeling proud of himself. He licked his paw and brushed it over his ears to settle his fur before he tackled the next step. And the next…

It took him a good few minutes to heave and claw his way up to the landing, and he rolled on to the last step, panting exhaustedly. His claws ached. But he was up! And he could hear voices coming from behind a door at the top of the stairs. His ears flattened back. They were not good voices. Someone was upset. The second voice was the old lady who had been with him downstairs. She was doing that gentle, soothing talking again.

The door was open a crack, and he peered cautiously round it. The old lady was sitting on the bed, with a girl lying face down beside her, patting her hair while she cried. Whiskers sniffed again. He’d never heard Mia sound like that before, but he was sure it was Mia. Would she be glad to see him? What was the matter with her? He hesitated by the door, uncertain what to do.

Then the old lady looked up and saw him. She looked surprised for a moment, but then she smiled and held out her hand to him, rubbing her fingers together, her face hopeful. She wanted him to come closer.

“Mia, sweetheart, listen. I’ve got something to tell you. I’d have told you straight away, if it hadn’t taken me so long to get up those stairs.”

“Sorry, Gran. I know you’re not supposed to use the stairs. Oh, I should have told Emily’s mum ages ago that I wanted Whiskers to be ours…” a muffled voice sobbed.

That was his name. It was Mia – it had to be. She smelled right, and she’d said his name, even if her voice sounded all strange.

Whiskers bounded across the bedroom and looked up crossly at the bed. How was he supposed to get up there? The old lady stretched her hand, and scooped him up, smiling. “Mia…”

He had been right! Whiskers stumbled along the soft duvet until he was next to Mia’s tangle of fair hair, standing on a blue fleecy blanket. He nudged her with his nose, but she didn’t notice, so he did it again, harder this time.

Mia raised her head. Her eyes were blurry and sore from crying, so for a moment she didn’t understand.

Then Whiskers purred at her proudly. He had found her!

“Whiskers!” Mia gasped. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at your new home! Did you run away? Emily’s going to be so worried about you.” She struggled to sit up, and gazed at the little white kitten sitting contentedly in the middle of her bed.

“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Gran said gently. “When you came home so upset last night, I had a talk with your mum and dad, and we all agreed. Your dad had been convinced that you should have Whiskers anyway. He wanted to bring him home ages ago, but your mum was worried it would upset you again. So Dad and I went round to Emily’s house, and talked to her mum, after you’d gone off to school this morning. We arranged for Whiskers to be your kitten. Well, and a little bit mine, for some company while you’re at school. I know you shouldn’t give animals as presents, but think of him as an early Christmas gift.” Gran smiled at her, a little anxiously. “Your mum was so cross she had to be at work this afternoon. She wanted to see your face when you found out.”

“But what about the lady who rang? Miriam?” Mia murmured. Her mind was whirring, trying to take all this in.

“Emily’s mum called her to explain. She was very sympathetic, apparently. She lost a cat recently too; she said she knew how hard it could be.”

“So Whiskers is really ours?” Mia looked down at the kitten, who was sniffing the cat blanket interestedly, his whiskers looking remarkably white against the navy blue fleece. She reached out, and tickled him under the chin, with just one finger. She didn’t dare do more. She felt like there was a dream kitten in her bedroom and if she touched him, he might disappear, like a bubble.

But he didn’t. He purred loudly and gazed up at her with big blue eyes. He looked very, very pleased with himself.

“Yes, you are a clever little cat, finding your way up here,” Gran said, smiling. “I thought I’d shut him in my sitting room, Mia, I didn’t want him wandering all over the house, feeling lost. But he obviously found a way out. He wanted to come and find you.”

Mia nodded. “He’s sitting on Sandy’s blanket,” she whispered suddenly, a strange sharp feeling clutching at her chest.

Gran nodded. “Yes.”

Mia took a deep breath. Whiskers nudged her knee with his nose and stood up, turning round a couple of times before settling himself into the perfect position, nose touching tail tip, like a little white fur cushion.

Mia let the breath out again, shakily. There were white hairs on the blanket now, mixed with the ginger ones.

Whiskers opened one eye and yawned, showing a raspberry-pink tongue. Then he snuggled down further into the blanket, and went to sleep.

Just like he belonged.

Mia yawned and rolled over, and felt Whiskers sigh in his sleep beside her. She’d had to move the fleece blanket now, to the side of her bed. Whiskers liked to sleep jammed between her and the wall, even though Mia sometimes worried that she would accidentally squash him.

She buried her head in her pillow and sighed happily. It didn’t feel like time to get up yet. Then her eyes snapped open. It was Christmas Day!

“Whiskers! Look, my Christmas stocking.” She sat up, and eyed the bulging red-and-white striped stocking happily. She could see a packet of her favourite toffees sticking out of it. “And cat crunchies, look! Your favourite fishy ones!”

Whiskers purred with pleasure. He didn’t know why Mia wanted to wake up early, but he would do anything for fishy crunchies. He patted happily at the ribbons as Mia unwrapped her stocking presents.

“It’s nearly seven o’clock,” Mia said at last. “I wonder if Mum and Dad would mind being woken up yet? Or Gran?”

She climbed out of bed, and shrugged on her dressing gown, then padded out on to the landing, with Whiskers following her. She peeped in her mum and dad’s bedroom door, but they were both still fast asleep. Dad had said last night that his best Christmas present would be a lie-in, so she scooped Whiskers up before he could go and leap on to the bed. He’d only been with them a week, but already he had a thing about Dad’s feet. He liked to pounce on them, and Mia thought that probably wouldn’t be Dad’s ideal way to wake up.

She crept down the stairs. Gran always woke up early; she said it was to do with being over seventy – she didn’t need as much sleep any more.

“I can hear you, Mia! Happy Christmas!” Gran called, as Mia hesitated outside her door.

Mia slipped into Gran’s little annexe. “You’re up already!” she said, in surprise. Gran was sitting in her armchair, with a magazine and a cup of tea.

“Yes, and I’m glad you’re here. I’ve got a special present for you.” Gran reached over to her little table and picked up a flat, rectangular parcel, wrapped in shiny Christmas paper with a big ribbon bow. Gran liked wrapping presents.

“‘For Mia, with lots of love this Christmas – and for being brave,’” Mia read from the gift tag. “I don’t understand.”

“Open it, Mia, you’ll see.” Gran nodded eagerly.

Mia put Whiskers down on the floor, then started to undo the bow, and peel off the paper.

“Oh, Gran! It’s lovely!” It was a sort of box, with a beautiful painting of a cat on the lid.

“Ah, you haven’t seen inside it yet, open it up.”

It wasn’t actually a box, Mia realized, as she opened it. It was a hinged photo frame, made to take two photos, one beside the other.

As though it was made for two very special cats.

Mia smiled, her eyes blurring a little with tears, but only happy ones. On the left was Sandy, staring out at her, with his ears pricked up. Gran must have taken it just as he spotted a butterfly to chase, Mia thought. Sandy loved to hunt butterflies…

And on the right was a picture of her little Whiskers, sitting on Gran’s windowsill. The winter sun was shining on his gorgeous whiskers, so that they sparkled.

“Thanks, Gran, it’s the loveliest present.” Mia hugged her, and laughed as there was a sudden rustling sound. Whiskers had jumped on to the discarded wrapping paper, and was pouncing backwards and forwards, chasing an imaginary something. Maybe when he was bigger, Whiskers would chase butterflies too…