The Secret Kitten

When Lucy and William’s dad got home late that night, he sat across the kitchen table from their gran, eating his dinner.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, as he wiped a bit of bread round his plate to mop up the gravy. “You’ve hardly said anything since I got home, Mum.”

Gran sighed and put down her mug of tea. “I’m just a bit worried about Lucy. I’m not sure she’s settling all that well with the other girls at school. She had a bit of an argument with one of them this afternoon, just as I was picking her up. She didn’t want to talk about it very much, but it seems as though she’d told this girl – Sara, her name is – that we had a kitten.”

Dad stared at her. “But why on earth would she say that?”

Gran shrugged. “To fit in? To make herself a bit more exciting? We’re asking a lot of them, you know, starting at a new school.”

Dad’s shoulders slumped. “I suppose so. But I thought it was the best thing to do…”

“I still think it is.” Gran reached over and patted his hand. “But I’m wondering if a pet would help Lucy settle.”

“You don’t like pets!”

“Whatever gave you that idea? I wouldn’t want a dog, I couldn’t manage the walking, but I love cats!” Gran smiled at him, a little sadly. “Actually, I suppose we didn’t have any pets when you were younger, did we? I haven’t had a cat of my own for a long time. Not since Catkin died. He was twenty, you know, and I’d had him since I was a little girl. I didn’t want another cat for a while after that and somehow then it just never seemed to be the right time. But I wouldn’t mind a cat now. Especially with Lucy and Wiliam to help look after it.”

“Well, it would be wonderful for Lucy,” Dad agreed. “I always said no before, because we were out of the house all the time.” He got up and took his plate over to the dishwasher. “I’ll go and check on her. I know she’ll probably be asleep, but I just want to see that she’s all right…”

Catkin woke up as the morning light shone into Lucy’s room. She didn’t have any blinds yet and the morning was bright and sunny. The kitten stretched blissfully, padding her paws into a patch of sun just outside the wardrobe. Then she hunched up the other way, arching her back like a spitting witch’s cat and stepped delicately out into Lucy’s bedroom.

Lucy was still fast asleep, huddled up under her duvet, so Catkin jumped up on to the bed to sniff at her. She smelled interesting, like breakfast and warm sunshine. But she didn’t wake up when Catkin dabbed a chilly nose against her ear – only muttered and turned over, which made the duvet shift alarmingly. Catkin sprang down before she slid off and sat on the rug.

When she’d washed her ears thoroughly, both sides, she stalked off across the room. Something was different and she hadn’t quite worked out what it was. There was something in the air, something fresh and new.

The door was open!

Lucy had shut it carefully, of course, when she came upstairs to bed. But then her dad had come up to check on her. Catkin and Lucy had both been fast asleep and neither of them had seen that he had left the door ajar. Just wide enough for a small, determined paw to hook it open.

Catkin nosed her way out and started to hop carefully – front feet, then back feet – down the stairs. It felt unfamiliar. Then she trotted along the landing, sniffing curiously at the different doors. She padded into William’s room, but a wobbly pile of books slid over when she nudged it, so she darted out again and set off down the next flight of stairs to the bottom. She sniffed her way carefully down the hallway and into the kitchen.

Most of the food was shut away in cupboards, but Dad had left a loaf of bread out on the counter and Catkin could smell it. She sat on the floor, staring up and thinking…

Lucy woke up when the sunny patch from the window moved round on to her bed. She blinked sleepily, wondering why it was that she felt so happy and scared all at the same time. Then she sat up straight, remembering.

Catkin!

Today they had to find a way to tell Gran and Dad what had happened, and make them see that Catkin needed to stay with them.

The kitten wasn’t sitting on the windowsill the way she had been the day before, so Lucy kneeled up in bed and leaned over to peer into the wardrobe. “Catkin,” she called. “Puss, puss, puss…”

But no little kitten face appeared and Lucy’s heart began to beat faster. “Where did you go?” she murmured. She hopped out of bed and crouched down to check underneath, but there was nothing there except dust. No Catkin hiding in the cardboard boxes, or behind the little bookshelf by the door.

The open door.

Lucy gasped. “I shut it!” she whispered to herself. “I know I did. Oh no.” She hurried down the stairs, going as fast as she could on tiptoe, so as not to wake Dad or Gran. She dashed into William’s room.

“Wake up! William, wake up! Have you seen Catkin? I don’t know where she is.”

William stared at her sleepily, blinking like an owl, and then he squeaked and jumped out of bed.

“Where would she go?”

“Shh! I don’t know, maybe the kitchen?”

William nodded. “Definitely the kitchen.”

They hurried down the stairs, freezing to a stop every time one of them creaked. The house was old and they hadn’t had time to learn which stairs to step over.

“Dad’ll hear us,” Lucy whispered miserably. “Hurry up, we have to find her and get her back into my room.” She kneeled down on the kitchen floor, looking around. She hadn’t noticed how many tiny, kitten-sized hiding places there were in here before. On the chairs, under the table. Down the side of the oven. “Oh! What if she’s climbed into the washing machine?” Lucy gasped. “I read about a cat who did that once.”

But the washing machine was empty and so were all the other spots they could think of. Lucy sat down on the floor, looking helpless. “I can’t think of anywhere else,” she murmured. “All the windows are closed, aren’t they?”

William nodded. “It was cold last night. Unless – Gran always sleeps with her bedroom window open.”

A large tear spilled down the side of Lucy’s nose. “Maybe she went out that way, then. She didn’t want to stay. Catkin’s gone!”