Alfie Cat In Trouble

Chapter Five

I arrived at the Clovers early after yet another sleepless night. One of my families was looking after baby Summer so Claire and Jonathan could get some sleep. I was tempted to do the same, but I was worried about Stanley. I found the whole of the Clover family in the kitchen, finishing breakfast. Mr Clover was eating an egg – so it was all right for him to eat them but not for me to accidentally break them.

Mrs Clover seemed cheerful, Viola was smiling but Stanley was quiet.

‘Right, so Dear, do you remember what I said?’ Mrs Clover asked.

‘What exactly was that?’ Mr Clover replied.

‘Tut. Please, listen and you too, Stanley,’ she said. Stanley made a face. ‘I have to take Viola to her new school. Dear, you’re in charge of making sure your son doesn’t get into trouble. Stanley you are in charge of staying out of trouble. You too, Alfie,’ she said, noticing me. ‘Come along, Viola. We don’t want to be late.’ Mrs Clover went to put her shoes on and I followed her so I could say goodbye.

‘Mum.’ Viola pointed at Mrs Clover’s shoes. ‘Your shoes don’t match.’ One was red and the other green.

‘Pah, never mind, no one looks at feet.’

I miaowed. I did.

‘So I have to keep Stanley out of trouble?’ Mr Clover said coming to the front door.

‘Yes, you should be able to manage that, shouldn’t you?’ Mrs Clover replied.

Mr Clover looked as if he absolutely couldn’t.

As Stanley and his Dad cleared up the breakfast things, I managed to get myself some leftover egg; I had acquired quite the taste for it.

‘Right, Stan. I have to paint some fruit. I won’t be long but can you occupy yourself for a while?’

‘I usually do,’ Stanley mumbled sadly.

I rubbed against his legs. I felt sorry for him – he only got his parents’ attention when he was in trouble. It was the same with me at my house at the moment.

‘Alfie, let’s go to the garden,’ he suggested, huffily.

‘Miaow.’ I followed him outside, but he didn’t seem happy as he kicked at stones. I hadn’t seen him this miserable before. I tried to encourage him to play with me. There was a frisbee on the ground which I nudged towards him.

‘Oh, it’s my frisbee,’ Stanley said, throwing it. I jumped up to try to catch it, but it was way too high.

‘Brilliant, Alfie, try again.’ Stanley suddenly looked happier. I kept jumping for the frisbee, although it was very tiring and I didn’t manage it.

‘Try again,’ Stanley shouted and threw it. I jumped but when I landed on all fours I saw the frisbee flying over the garden fence.

‘Whoops,’ Stanley said. I jumped up onto the fence and took a look. I was met by unfriendly snarling. The frisbee had landed next to a very big, very angry looking dog. I felt my fur stand on end.

Stanley dragged a garden chair over and stood on it to see over the fence. ‘I’m guessing the dog won’t throw it back so it’s down to us, Alfie.’

Count me out, I thought.

‘I’ve had a brilliant idea!’ Stanley shouted running to the shed. He returned, carrying a long stick with string attached and a large hook on the end. ‘Dad’s fishing rod,’ he told me as he climbed back on the chair, wobbling a bit. ‘If I can hook the frisbee, I can get it back. Any adventurer would do the same.’ He looked pleased with himself as he flung his arms back and then forwards and I watched the line and hook flying through the air and …

CRASH! The rod had hit the greenhouse roof next door. The dog started barking. Two people – a lady and man – ran out of the house just as Mr Clover appeared.

‘Stanley, what have you done?’ he shrieked.

‘But Dad—’

‘I don’t want to hear it, Stanley,’ Mr Clover shouted. Stanley’s shoulders slumped as he wandered off to the other end of the garden. ‘I am so sorry,’ Mr Clover said to the neighbours as he stood on the chair and surveyed the damage. ‘So very sorry. I’ll pay for the repairs to your greenhouse.’

‘Oh, don’t worry,’ the man said, smiling kindly. ‘We don’t use it. We’ve been meaning to get rid of it actually.’

What a nice man, I thought, as the dog growled at me.

Mr Clover looked relieved. ‘Are you sure?’

The neighbours nodded.

‘Well, I must do something. I know, I’ll give you a piece of my art. Wait there,’ he said, running back into the house and emerging a few moments later. He climbed back on the chair and handed a red banana over the fence. The man looked at the women as Mr Clover smiled at them expectantly.

‘Well, gosh, I mean, thank you,’ the woman said.

The man stared at the banana looking puzzled.

‘Oh you are most welcome, and thank you,’ Mr Clover finished.

‘I have to paint another banana,’ Mr Clover told us as Stanley and I stood by the back door. ‘Can you please stay out of trouble for five minutes?’

Mr Clover was still mumbling to himself – something to do with kids being a pain in his bottom and fruit being far less trouble, as he headed back inside.

Stanley was still looking glum but then, all of a sudden, he seemed to perk up. ‘Hey Alfie! I know how we can stay out of trouble and practise our adventuring: we can build a den.’ He went to the shed, and came back with a pile of things. He then went inside and brought out some poles and a blanket.

‘Purr,’ I replied, although I didn’t know what a den was.

‘So, we have a blanket, two garden chairs, some chicken wire and some funny poles I found. All any adventurer needs for the perfect base camp for our missions.’

I followed Stanley as he set about building. I jumped on one of the chairs as he stuck the chicken wire in-between them.

I wondered why it was called chicken wire, it looked nothing like a chicken.

‘Off the chair, Alfie, or you’ll end up lost under the blanket.’

I did what I was told. He put the poles into the ground and ended up balancing the blanket over the whole thing. I crawled into the opening. It was big enough for me to live in, not that I would.

‘Wow,’ Stanley said as he joined me. ‘This is the best den ever.’ I was caught up in his excitement. ‘Right, so Adventure Cat, our next mission is to find fossils. We need to dig for them.’ He put a hat with a big brim on me and picked up a bucket and spade. The hat slipped over my eyes and I had to use my paws to push it back. I wished I didn’t have to wear it but I didn’t want to upset Stanley. I slowly followed him round the garden. As he dug, Stanley sifted through the mud and put his findings into the bucket. Most of it looked like rubbish to me but he seemed pleased when he found a coin and a plastic toy.

‘You see, Alfie, being an Adventurer is very serious so we need all the practice we can get. Come on, help me dig.’

‘Miaow.’ I tried, but digging wasn’t one of my best skills. I found it almost impossible and my paws got covered in mud. Stanley, though, managed to make quite a mess of the lawn.

‘Back to base camp,’ he announced finally. I followed him as he emptied his bucket to examine his findings. ‘A ring-pull, a five pence piece, a plastic aeroplane and four worms,’ he said. ‘No fossils so far. Oh well, we must not give up but now we must rest.’

I sat on his lap, eyeing up the worms that he’d put in my hat suspiciously. They were wriggly and without fur so I didn’t trust them.

‘STANLEY CLOVER!’ Mrs Clover’s voice boomed angrily. We looked at each other and poked our heads out of the den. We came face to feet with Mrs Clover, Mr Clover and Viola. Mrs Clover pulled the blanket off and shrieked. She and Viola had just arrived home.

‘What are you doing with my special poles?’ she asked. She was red-faced and her glasses fell off, she was so angry.

‘What special poles?’ Mr Clover asked. Mrs Clover grabbed a stick and the den collapsed.

‘My den!’ Stanley cried out.

‘These, Stanley,’ Mrs Clover hissed, ‘are poles from the rain forest of Papua New Guinea and I was using them for a very important piece of artwork.’

She looked so red, I thought her head might explode.

‘Oh dear, dear,’ Mr Clover said, calmly. ‘Look they’ll be fine.’ He went to collect the rest of the poles. ‘Just a bit of mud that we can dust off,’ he added reasonably. Mrs Clover examined them and then slowly returned to her normal colour.

‘You see, nothing was really wrong, was it?’ Viola said.

‘You were supposed to be watching him,’ Mrs Clover pointed at Mr Clover.

‘Ah, well you see, I was but I had to go inside and paint a banana. I gave my other one as a peace-offering to next door.’

‘Next door? I don’t understand.’ Mrs Clover looked confused. I wanted to cover my eyes with my paws. Now we were in real trouble.

‘Stanley had an accident with a fishing rod and next door’s greenhouse,’ Mr Clover explained.

‘I can’t even leave you two for a couple of hours.’ Mrs Clover’s face was so red again it looked as if it might explode.

‘I’m sorry, but I was trying to be an Adventurer. I wish I could go to Papua New Guinea,’ Stanley said sadly.

‘You won’t be going anywhere other than your room, young man,’ Mrs Clover shouted.

‘What on earth happened to the lawn?’ Mr Clover suddenly asked, noticing the holes. Stanley hung his head. Mrs Clover’s jaw dropped open and I quickly sat down to hide my paws which were still a bit muddy.

‘Oh no, we must have moles,’ Viola said quickly.

‘Moles?’ Mr Clover asked.

‘In London?’ Mrs Clover added. ‘Do you get moles in London?’ I looked at Stanley who was staring at his sister, open-mouthed.

‘Oh yes, I read about it, it’s a real problem,’ Viola said, as if she knew what she was talking about. I didn’t think she did; I’d lived in London for all of my six cat years and never even seen one mole.

‘Right, well I better go and look up how to get rid of them.’ Mr Clover went into the house.

‘And Stanley, you can repair the lawn before you go to your room,’ Mrs Clover said. She was angrier than ever as she clutched her poles and marched inside.

Viola turned to Stanley who looked as if he was going to cry.

‘Don’t worry, Stan, I’ll help,’ she said quietly.

‘Thank you for saying it was moles, Vi. I really didn’t want to get into any more trouble.’ Stanley smiled sadly at her.

‘You’re welcome,’ Viola smiled back. As they filled in the holes, Viola tried to cheer Stanley up by making jokes and I sat watching. They really could be the best of friends, I thought, but they just needed a little bit of help. Luckily, I was here.

The lawn fixed, Stanley slunk upstairs to his room. I wasn’t allowed to go with him. I felt bad and powerless as I sat in the kitchen, trying to think. Viola was now practising her piano; Mrs Clover was cleaning her rainforest poles and Mr Clover was making a display of his latest project: black apples. He was admiring them, looking very pleased with himself.

I knew then, even more clearly, exactly what I had to do. Viola and Stanley should be sticking together. So now, all that was left was for me to figure out exactly how to unite them.