Lost In The Storm

Chapter Five

Ella got up at six the next morning. It was still practically dark, but she didn’t care. She felt as though she hadn’t slept at all, though she supposed she must have done. All her plans for a weekend of fun in the snow had gone – Fluff still wasn’t back. Ella went downstairs, put on her winter coat, hat and scarf, and unlocked the back door. The cat flap swung open as she went out, and she felt like kicking it. She should have locked it, no matter what Mum said. She would rather have a grumpy Fluff than no Fluff at all.

Out in the back garden the snow looked even deeper. There must have been another big fall in the night. Ella shivered. It was really freezing, even wrapped up as she was. She sighed. The garden looked so beautiful, all white with patches of green and icicles hanging from the branches. It was like a Christmas card – there was even a robin perched on the fence, looking at her hopefully to see if she was about to put crumbs out. Ella smiled a very small smile. If Fluff had been here, she would have been jumping up and down under the fence trying to get him. But all that proved was that Fluff definitely wasn’t anywhere in the garden. Tucking her hands under her arms to try and keep them warm, Ella walked down the path – or rather, where she thought the path ought to be, as she couldn’t see it at all.

“Fluff! Fluff, come on. Breakfast!” she called, trying to sound cheerful.

She stared round the garden, willing a stripy little furry body to come shooting out of the bushes. Then her heart leaped as she saw something moving at the bottom of the garden. “Fluff!” she squeaked delightedly, running towards her. “Oh, Fluff, you had me so worried. You bad cat, I thought I’d lost you again. Oh!” Ella stopped still as the strange cat stared up at her in surprise. It looked rather offended – as though it had been minding its own business, going for a morning walk, and suddenly it was being chased by a screaming girl. It twitched its tail irritably, and strolled on over the snow in a very dignified and haughty way, deliberately ignoring Ella.

“Sorry…” Ella whispered after it. She knew it was stupid to apologize to a cat, but it seemed to be the kind of cat who would expect her to. Now she could see it properly, it didn’t even look much like Fluff. It was loads bigger, and its tabby coat was more spotted than striped. Trying not to cry, she plodded back to the house.

Her parents were in the kitchen making breakfast. They were both dressed, which wasn’t normal for a Saturday. Usually everyone got up slowly, enjoying the weekend.

“Any luck?” Ella’s dad asked. “We heard you calling.”

Ella shook her head.

“I thought I saw her,” she said miserably. “But it was another cat.”

“I’m sure she’s just waiting for the snow to stop,” Ella’s mum said briskly. “She’ll be back soon. Sit down and have some breakfast, Ella.”

“The snow has stopped,” Ella pointed out, as she perched on the very edge of a chair. “So why isn’t she back?”

Ella’s parents glanced at each other with raised eyebrows, and she glared at them. “You’re not taking this seriously!” she burst out. “Fluff ’s lost, I’m sure she is. We have to go and look for her.”

Her dad sighed. “I have to say, I’m surprised she isn’t back. She’s never stayed out this long before, has she?”

Ella’s mum nodded reluctantly. “I suppose not. I’ve just been hoping she’d pop through the cat flap any minute, but maybe we should go and look for her. We should probably start by asking the neighbours if they’ve seen her.”

Ella leaped up from the chair, heading for the door.

“Ella!” her mum yelled after her. “It’s half-past six! On a Saturday! You cannot go and wake up the whole street. Eat some breakfast first.”

A couple of hours later, Ella and her parents had asked up and down the street, but no one had seen Fluff. Everyone was upset to hear she was missing – lots of the neighbours had said how sweet she was, and how she often came up to be stroked and fussed over. Ella’s parents had asked people to keep an eye out, and check that she wasn’t shut in any garages or sheds.

“Mrs Jones’s curtains are open now,” Ella pointed out, as they trudged back up the street. “Can we go and ask her? Fluff loves her garden, she spends ages watching her fish in the pond.”

“We might as well,” her mum agreed.

Mrs Jones was horrified. “Poor thing,” she said, sounding really worried. “It’s so cold out. Oh, Ella, I’m sorry,” she added, seeing Ella’s eyes fill with tears. “You must be beside yourself, especially with her being lost before. I’m sure she’ll turn up. She’s such a bright little thing. She’s probably just found herself a nice warm spot to see the snow out.”

“Have you been out in your garden?” Ella said, sniffing. “She might be by your pond.”

“The pond’s frozen,” Mrs Jones replied. “I saw her looking at it yesterday, she seemed very confused.” She shook her head. “I don’t think she’s out there now, Ella, but you’re welcome to go and check.” She held the door open. “Why don’t you all come and have a cup of tea, you must be freezing.”

She led the way into the kitchen, and unlocked her garden door for Ella to go out. Ella’s parents sat down gratefully. They were just sipping the tea, when Ella dashed back in, tears streaming down her face.

“Ella! What is it?” her mum asked, leaping up. “What’s happened? Is Fluff—?”

Gulping, Ella stretched out her hand, and laid something small and wet on the table next to the teacups.

It was Fluff ’s collar.

Fluff woke up as a cold draught cut through the door to the cupboard, and made her flicker her ears uneasily. It took a few moments for her to work out where she was, then she looked down worriedly at the white kitten. She was curled into a tiny ball, right up against Fluff ’s tummy, and she was deeply asleep. Fluff licked her gently, and she laid her ears back, but didn’t wake up. Fluff knew that she had to try and find her way home. Ella would be desperate, and the longer she left it, the harder it would be to find any tracks to help her get back. And she was starving! She’d missed her tea, and breakfast. That made her feel guilty, though – who knew when the younger kitten had last had anything to eat? Fluff eyed her thoughtfully. She hadn’t sounded hungry last night. Was she so weak that she’d forgotten to be hungry? That was bad, very bad. Fluff needed to get home at once, and the little one had to wake up and come too. Fluff nosed her firmly, and she gave a faint, complaining mew, then opened her green eyes and stared accusingly at Fluff.

Fluff licked her again, apologetically, then butted her in the chest to make her stand up. The kitten mewed miserably, and tottered to her feet. Fluff stared at her, suddenly realizing that even now she was warmed up, this tiny creature was not going anywhere. Fluff had found it almost impossible to stagger through the snow the day before – and this kitten was very weak!

But what should Fluff do? She didn’t want to leave the kitten behind, either. Helplessly, she watched as the little white cat gave another feeble mew and slumped back down again. No, she certainly wasn’t coming on an expedition through the snow. Fluff would just have to go and find Ella, and bring her back to help. The wailing wind had died down now, leaving an eerie silence, and Fluff thought the snow must have stopped. She would be able to see where she was heading. She felt better now she had made a decision, and she nosed her way out of the cupboard, and across the room. She wanted to find some of the rags of blanket she had curled up in yesterday. The kitten wasn’t so frozen now, but without Fluff to keep her warm, she would quickly get cold again. Dragging the blanket back with her teeth, she wrapped it round the kitten.

A tiny purr rumbled through the scrap of white fur, making Fluff feel even more determined. She had to find help. Giving the kitten one last worried glance, she pushed the cupboard door to with her nose to keep the cold out, and set off.

Fluff peered cautiously out of the hole in the cottage door, and shivered. The snow was even deeper now, but at least it seemed to have frozen hard. She stepped out, and looked helplessly around. Which way should she go? She had no idea. Even if she’d been able to remember which way she’d come, it all looked different now. Even the smells were covered in snow. She took a few uncertain steps, hoping to recognize something soon. Then, to her horror, Fluff noticed snowflakes spiralling down. More snow! She looked up, hoping it would be just a light shower, but the sky was full of them, falling thickly down towards her. She needed to get back under cover fast – she knew from yesterday that there was no point trying to go anywhere in this. But perhaps she had time to find some food, before the storm got too heavy? Fluff looked around hopefully, but only saw trees. No good.

Hurrying back into the cottage, she noticed something she’d not seen in the dark the evening before. A battered old bag, lying by the door. Eagerly, Fluff clawed at it, retrieving a foil-wrapped packet. Ham sandwiches! They didn’t smell very fresh, but she was in no position to be fussy, and neither was the kitten.

The kitten did not want to be woken again. Fluff had to cuff her nose to make her sit up and take notice of the food. She sniffed at it reluctantly, too tired to bother, but Fluff knew the kitten had to eat. She bit off a tiny piece of ham, and then nudged it against the kitten’s mouth until she opened it to protest. As the taste of the food hit her tongue, she brightened a little, swallowing it down, and looked hopefully at Fluff for more. Fluff bit off some more pieces, gulping a few down herself. The kitten managed several mouthfuls, then curled up to sleep again.

Fluff watched her, feeling relieved. Surely the food would help her? She devoured the rest of the sandwich, then tucked herself back round the kitten. There didn’t seem to be much else to do but sleep, so she slept.

It was much, much colder when she woke again. She was shivering, even wrapped up in their blanket nest. The kitten wasn’t. She was completely still, and for an awful moment Fluff thought she wasn’t even breathing.

There was a tiny snuffle of breath, but it was so shallow – as though the kitten could hardly be bothered. When Fluff tried to rouse her, she wouldn’t wake. She was too cold.

Fluff stood up. The cold seemed to be inside her now, a freezing fear that she wouldn’t be able to save this little one. The kitten had no one to help her but Fluff. Even if it was still snowing, she had go, now, and find Ella, and bring her back.