Alfie Cat In Trouble

Chapter Four

I wandered around the house, but there was no sign of Stanley. I went to see Viola who was playing the piano as usual. She stopped when I jumped onto the stool next to her and she made a fuss of me.

‘Hi Alfie, it’s nice to see you.’ She had such lovely manners.

‘Miaow,’ I said; it was nice to see her, too.

‘I’m afraid Stanley’s in trouble again. He pretended he was skydiving earlier, jumping off the sofa. It was funny but Dad got cross because he was being loud and I was supposed to be practising my scales.’

I rubbed up against her. This wasn’t what I had hoped to find after yesterday.

‘He’s been sent outside. I didn’t want him to go. He was having so much fun, I wished I could have joined in. I mean Stanley doesn’t seem to like me very much sometimes but I wish he did. We used to play together in our old house, I miss that—’

‘Viola, I can’t hear the piano,’ Mrs Clover shouted. Viola sighed and I felt bad. I wished she could confide in me more. She looked downcast as she started playing again so I decided to cheer her up. I jumped onto the keys and tried to play with her. She looked surprised, then she giggled and we played together, although I found it quite hard. The keys were unsteady and it was difficult to balance.

‘Plink, plonk,’ I played but suddenly my leg slipped, and I crashed onto the keys.

BANG! My bottom hurt. To be safer, I sat on the keys and tickled Viola with my tail; she giggled.

‘What on earth is going on?’ Mrs Clover asked, coming into the room.

‘Sorry Mum,’ Viola said. ‘Alfie was playing the piano.’

Yikes, I was in trouble now. Would I get banished, too? But Mrs Clover just laughed.

‘Oh you silly cat! And by the way you are no Mozart,’ she said, laughing even harder. I purred with joy as they both laughed, although I had no idea who or what Mozart was.

‘What’s so funny?’ Mr Clover asked as he walked in with Stanley in tow. ‘Dear, I said Stanley could come back in; I think he’s spent enough time in the shed.’

‘Fine, but Stanley, and Alfie actually, can you please stay out of mischief? If Viola doesn’t practise she’ll be in trouble.’

‘OK, Mum,’ Stanley said, grumpily. ‘Come on, Alfie. Let’s go upstairs.’

I felt bad about leaving Viola, but I followed my friend upstairs and into his room.

‘I’m so fed up; she’s always telling me off, and Viola gets all their attention. Sometimes I think they don’t even want me in the house. Oh well, at least I like the shed. I mean, I can’t tell them that – they think being sent outside is a punishment, but I think the shed is going to be my headquarters. I’ve put my special stones in it, as well as photos and plans that I’ve drawn up.’

‘Purrr,’ I replied.

‘And I’ve just had the most brilliant idea. Adventurers have to work both on dry land and under water so I thought I could practise today.’

‘YOWL!’ No, not water.

‘I shall get ready and you can be my assistant. Basically, that means you just have to be with me.’

I felt relieved; I wasn’t planning on being involved in any underwater missions, thank you very much.

Stanley raced around, putting on a pair of swimming trunks, a pair of funny looking rubber things on his feet and goggles over his eyes.

‘Right, so I have trunks, flippers and goggles. All I need now is my stopwatch and the bath.’ The flippers made him walk in a funny way. A bit like an upright frog.

He filled the bath and got in. I sat beside the bath, a safe distance from the water. Stanley took a deep breath and started his stopwatch. Then, with the arm holding the stopwatch sticking out of the bath, he went under. After a while, his head emerged from the water; he spluttered as he looked at his stopwatch.

‘Not bad,’ he said. ‘But I need to do better.’ He took a deep breath and went under again.

I waited. And waited. I moved a little closer to the bath but I couldn’t see anything. I was pretty sure that no one, apart from fish, could spend so much time underwater. I panicked. What if something happened to him? I jumped up onto the side of the tub. Stanley was very still under the water and I didn’t know what to do. I peered over the side, about to reach out with one paw, when suddenly he sat upright, knocking my paw, and me into the bath.

SPLASH!

‘YOWL!’ I screamed.

‘Alfie!’ Stanley grabbed me quickly and lifted me out.

I was horrified as I shook the water out of my fur. ‘Alfie,’ Stanley repeated.

I was soaked and, in a panic, I ran downstairs. I was yelping as I jumped up onto the kitchen counter, skidded and went headfirst into a basket of eggs. They all flew off the counter and smashed. I sat there, soaking wet and covered in yolk.

‘My eggs!’ Mr Clover screamed.

‘What on earth?’ Mrs Clover exclaimed.

Viola said, ‘Stanley!’ They all turned to where Stanley stood in the doorway, dripping wet, still wearing his flippers, goggles and trunks.

‘I am guessing you can explain this?’ Mrs Clover bellowed.

‘My eggs!’ Mr Clover repeated. I licked some of the egg off my fur; it wasn’t bad.

‘Well, you see, I was practising being underwater—’ Stanley started.

‘Underwater?’ Mrs Clover looked horrified.

‘Yes, in the bath. And Alfie came and sat on the side of the tub; I seem to have accidentally knocked him in. It’s well known that cats don’t like water. Then he screeched loudly, and ran down here. I just came to see if he was all right.’

‘My eggs!’

It seemed Mr Clover was very fond of those eggs.

‘I don’t even know where to start. Stanley, you know you are not allowed to have baths on your own and as for being underwater – what if something had happened? Do you really think Alfie would have been able to rescue you, you silly boy?’ Mrs Clover yelled.

Stanley looked at everyone and at me. I would have found a way to rescue him, but I didn’t know how to tell them that.

‘No one would be bothered if anything happened to me anyway,’ Stanley shouted. ‘You don’t care about me at all.’ He stamped his flipper and tried to run off, but he could only manage a wobbly walk with his legs out straight. It would have been funny if he wasn’t so upset.

Viola looked distraught; Mrs Clover looked shocked and Mr Clover was still staring at the broken eggs.

‘What a worry that boy is.’ Mrs Clover looked upset.

‘But maybe he just thinks you’re cross,’ Viola said, reasonably.

‘Viola, can you try to get Alfie cleaned up?’ Mrs Clover asked, ignoring her. ‘And Dear?’ she said to her husband.

‘My eggs,’ he repeated. He really was unreasonably attached to them.

‘For goodness sake, forget the eggs and come and speak to your son. He needs to learn to be more careful, and you need to help me.’ Mr Clover looked up. ‘And, besides, how many times have you been told not to put all your eggs in one basket?’

That evening, having recovered at home with a long nap, I went to look for Tiger.

‘Oh dear, someone looks a bit down in the dumps,’ she said as she joined me in her back garden.

‘It’s just all gone wrong at the Clovers. I’ve never known a family like it.’

‘I warned you to leave well alone, but you never listen.’ Tiger yawned. ‘I’m a bit tired, but if you want we can go and look at the moon; it might cheer you up.’

‘You’re a good pal, Tiger.’

‘Yes I am, and maybe if you weren’t so intent on saving the world you’d remember that a bit more.’

We both sat and stared at the bright round moon and Tiger was right – it did cheer me up.