The Missing Kitten

“Bootle! Did you miss me?” Scarlett picked him up, and hugged him lovingly, and Bootle rubbed his head against her cheek.

Dad had come to meet them from school, as it was the first day, but tomorrow they were going to walk there and back by themselves.

“Come and have a biscuit,” Dad suggested. “Then you can both tell me what it was like, now there’s no one else around.” When he’d asked Scarlett at the school gate how her day was, she’d just muttered, “Fine,” but he could tell she was only being polite.

“It was all right.” Jackson shrugged, munching a chocolate biscuit. “Played football at lunch. The teacher was a bit strict. Shouted at people for talking. But it was fine.”

Dad looked over at Scarlett, who sighed. “It was OK. This girl called Izzy got told to look after me, and she was nice. She took me around with her at break and lunchtime. But – well, it was only because she had to.”

“She might really like you!” Dad pointed out.

Scarlett ran one of Bootle’s huge ears between her fingers, and sighed. “Maybe… It wasn’t as bad as it could have been,” she admitted. The two girls she’d seen in the shop hadn’t said anything else about her weird name, which was what she’d been worrying about. They’d been on the same table as her and Izzy at lunch, and they’d been quite friendly, and asked her where she lived, and if she’d had to catch the bus to school. It turned out that lots of the children did – they came from several different villages, and a school bus went round and picked them all up.

“It’s nice we can walk to school,” she said to Dad, who was still looking worried about her.

Bootle rubbed himself against her red sweater, leaving gingery hairs all over it, and Scarlett stroked him again. Whatever happened at school, at least she could come home and play with him. She couldn’t imagine being without him now.

“You’re sure you wouldn’t like me to come with you?” Dad asked, for about the fourth time.

“No!” Jackson said. “Honestly, Dad. We’re fine. It takes about ten minutes to get to school, and we don’t even have to cross a road. Stop fussing.”

Bootle was sitting on the bottom step of the stairs, watching disapprovingly as Scarlett and Jackson got ready. They were going again, just like yesterday! Why was he being left behind? He let out a tiny, furious mew, but Scarlett only kissed the top of his head, and went out of the door, leaving him with Dad.

Dad picked Bootle up, and tickled his ears, before rubbing the top of his head. But then he put him back down on the stairs, and headed into the room where his computer was. He was going to be too busy to play, again.

Bootle stalked into the kitchen, and inspected his food bowl, which was empty. He had a little water, and looked at his basket. He didn’t really feel like sleeping. And if this was anything like yesterday, Scarlett and Jackson would be gone for hours.

He didn’t see why he couldn’t go with them. Until yesterday, he’d been with Scarlett almost all the time.

Bootle walked over to the cat flap and sniffed at it, carefully. They hadn’t been gone long. Perhaps, if he was quick, he could follow them. Bootle shot out of the cat flap, and dashed into the back garden. Scarlett and Jackson had gone out of the front door, so he hurried around the side of the house, and on to the little patch of front garden. He nosed his way under the blue gate, flattening himself down underneath the wooden panels, and coming out into the lane, next to the car. His whiskers twitched excitedly as he tried to work out which way Scarlett had gone. He could follow her scent, he was sure. He sniffed busily at the grasses, and set off running.

Scarlett and Jackson were halfway to school, walking down the footpath along the side of the big field, which was planted with green wheat – Scarlett hadn’t known what it was, but Dad had told her.

“Can you hear a meow?” Scarlett asked suddenly, and Jackson turned round to stare at her.

“Don’t be silly. Come on!”

“No, I can. I really can. It’s Bootle, I’m sure.” Scarlett peered along the track behind them, and laughed. “It is! Look!”

Bootle was running after them, mewing happily, and as Scarlett crouched down to say hello, he clambered up into her lap and sat there, purring wearily. He’d had to run faster than he’d ever done before to catch them up.

“What’s he doing here?” Jackson shook his head. “Yes, you’re very clever, Bootle,” he admitted, running one hand down the little ginger kitten’s back. “But now we have to take you back home, and we’re going to be late.”

“Oh, do we have to take him back?” Scarlett said sadly.

Jackson rolled his eyes. “Yes, of course we do! We can’t take a cat to school, Scarlett!”

“I suppose so.”

“And we have to run, because we’re going to be late.”

Scarlett swallowed anxiously. She didn’t want to be late, to have to go in after everyone else, and explain what had happened. They hurried back down the footpath and across the lane before bursting through the front door.

Dad came out of his office, looking worried. “What’s happened? Why are you back? I knew I should have gone with you!”

“Don’t worry, Dad. It’s fine.” Scarlett held out her arms, full of purring ginger kitten. “Bootle just followed us. He caught up with us as we were going past the big field – the one with wheat in it. We had to bring him back.” She put Bootle into Dad’s arms, and he stopped purring and glared at her. He’d gone to find her, and brought her back, and now she was going again!

“Sorry, Bootle. I’d much rather stay with you.” Scarlett stroked his head as she went to leave.

“Come on, Scarlett,” Jackson yelled from the door.

“You’d better run, sweetheart,” Dad said. “I’d drive you, but by the time we’ve gone all round by the road, it’s longer than the short cut. I’ll ring the school and explain why you’ll be a bit late, don’t worry.”

“Thanks, Dad,” said Scarlett.

When Scarlett and Jackson hurried into the playground, the head, Miss Wilson, was standing at the main door watching out for them.

Scarlett was worried. Luckily, Miss Wilson didn’t look cross. She just smiled at them as they raced towards her, and patted Jackson’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. I used to have a dog that followed me to school. Still, I’ve never heard of a cat doing it. He must be very fond of you.”

Scarlett nodded proudly. She hadn’t really thought of it like that.

“I’ve explained to your teachers, so just slip quietly into your classes, all right?”

“Thanks, Miss Wilson.” Scarlett crept, mouse-like, along the corridor. It was all very well to say to slip in quietly, but everyone was still going to turn and stare at her. She eased open the door of her classroom, wincing as it creaked.

But her teacher, Mrs Mason, just smiled at her, and waved her over to her table, and went on pointing out something on the whiteboard.

“I wondered where you were!” Izzy whispered to her. “I thought you might not be coming back!”

“It wasn’t that bad yesterday,” Scarlett muttered.

“Are you OK?” said Izzy. “Did you oversleep?”

Scarlett shook her head. “No. It sounds really stupid, but I had to take my kitten home. He followed us to school.”

“Your kitten did?” Izzy stared at her. “Oh, I didn’t know you had a kitten! I’ve got a cat. He’s called Olly. But he’s never followed me anywhere! He’s far too lazy. What’s your kitten called?”

“Bootle.” Scarlett smiled proudly. “We’ve only had him two weeks, and he isn’t used to us leaving him. Mrs Mason’s giving us a look. I’ll tell you more at break, OK?”

Izzy grinned. “You’re so lucky having a kitten.”

Scarlett nodded, and stared at the whiteboard. Izzy was right, she realized. She really was lucky.