Oliver The Cat Who Saved Christmas. Charlie The Kitten Who Saved A Life

1. OLIVER THE CAT WHO SAVED CHRISTMAS

CHAPTER ONE

The worst night of my entire nine lives started with some leftover fish. You might think that was a bit strange, little kitten. After all, we cats all love fish, don’t we, and I often used to get leftovers, living in a pub where they made something called bar meals for the people who came in. It wasn’t actually the fish I had that night that was the problem. It was what came afterwards, when I’d gone back to my favourite chair by the fireplace and fallenasleep.

Now, stop jumping around trying to catch that fly, if you want me to tell you the story. It’s a long story for a little kitten like you, and a bit frightening in places, but you might learn something from it if you settle down and pay attention. That’s better.

Where was I? Oh yes. Asleep on my chair. Well, I woke up very suddenly when it was dark outside– and there was a horrible smell in the pub, and something tickling my nose and throat. I knew straight away it was smoke, because sometimes when my human, George, lit the fire in the bar to make it nice and cosy on a cold evening, it gave off the same kind of smell. But when he did that, the smoke went up the chimney, not into the room like this. I blinked for a few minutes, trying to see what was going on. Of course, my night vision is normally excellent, but the smoke was making my eyes sore. Within a few minutes I was starting to cough and choke because it had started going down my throat too, when I did the normal stretching and yawning thing we have to do when we wake up. And then I saw them – big orange flames leaping up the curtains, and sparks flying onto the nearby chairs.

I yowled in fright. At least, I tried to, but all that came out was a pathetic squeaky noise and another bout of coughing. I jumped out of my chair, heading for the staircase to the upstairs rooms, where I knew George would be asleep in the big bedroom overlooking the garden. Luckily he always left his door open, in case I woke up in the night and decided he might appreciate my company on the bed. So I darted straight in and jumped on him, pawing at his face to wake him up. I was trying my best to meow loudly in his ear at the same time, and despite all the coughs and splutters, it seemed to do the trick because he sat up in bed, gasping in surprise.

‘Oliver!’ he said, sounding a bit annoyed. He usually only called me by my full name when I’d been naughty. ‘What on earth…?’

And then he must have smelt the smoke, because he leapt out of bed, shouting,‘Oh my God! Fire! Fire!’

There were only the two of us in the building so I couldn’t understand who he was shouting to, but I was very relieved he’d woken up. He grabbed his mobile phone off the bedside table and his dressing-gown off the hook behind the door, and I ran ahead of him along the landing and back down the stairs. I was frightened to see that the flames had spread and were now working their way up the wooden banisters, spitting sparks and billowing more black smoke. I bounded down those stairs as if there were a couple of Dobermans after me.

‘Outside, Ollie, quick!’ George shouted, beginning to cough like me.

As he unlocked the main door to the bar the cold outside air rushed in and it was as if the whole place suddenly erupted. The crash, as the staircase collapsed, was so terrible, I shot out of that door and kept running, right across the car park and under a bush at the other side, next to the road. I could see George, in his stripy pyjamas, running out with his dressing-gown still in his hand, dropping it while he stabbed at the mobile phone and shouted into it:‘Fire! The Forester’s Arms! The pub’s on fire!’

I stayed under the bush, shaking with fear, watching the fire work its way up to the roof of the pub, watching as the wood store next to the kitchen went up with a‘whoosh’. Then the flames spread to the fence, and then they were licking around some kind of big drums lined up behind the village hall next door. And then there was a sudden loud ‘boom’ that made me jump out of my skin, and the fire seemed to roll itself into a ball of orange that lit up the whole sky.

For a minute I was frozen with terror. I thought it was the end of at least one of my lives, for sure. There were people running out of their houses, shouting, looking for George, putting his dressing-gown and blankets round him, as if it wasn’t hot enough with all those flames. And just to add to the horror of it all, at that moment two massive fire engines came tearing down the road towards us, sirens screaming, and turned into the car park right next to the bush where I was cowering. Well, I knew I should have stayed to make sure George was all right, but my cat instinct told me I needed to get out of there as fast as I could. It wasn’t my proudest moment, deserting my human and my home. But I’m afraid I scarpered. *

When I finally stopped running, I was in the middle of the woods across the road. I looked back through the trees but I couldn’t see the pub anymore, or even the flames. The trees were very tall and very close together here, and I realised I’d gone further into the woods than I’d ever been before. My heart was still pounding like mad from the shock, as well as from running so fast. I put my head on one side to listen carefully, but all I could hear at first was the sound of the wind blowing through the trees and an owl hooting in the distance. It was really cold, and I felt so sorry for myself, all alone there in the woods. All I wanted was to be back in my chair, curled up on my nice comfy cushion, asleep anddreaming my favourite dream about chasing mice. But I was too scared to go back. And then, as I was still standing there listening to the wind and the owl, and shivering and shaking like a leaf, there was suddenly another loud ‘boom’ from the direction of the pub. All the birds who had been asleep in the trees flew up in the air together, squawking with fright, and once again my cat instinct took over. I shot up the nearest tree, right up to one of the highest branches, and clung on for dear life as the wind rocked me back and forth.

You’ll find when you grow up to be a bigger cat that the best way to deal with a stressful situation is to get out of danger quickly and then go to sleep. I’ve heard humans talking sometimes about ‘not being able to sleep’. They say it happens when they’re worried about something. Fortunately this condition is unknown within the cat community. I was so worn out from the terrible shock I’d had, I could hardly keep my eyes open once I was safely snuggled down on that branch. There were no more booming noises, and although from the top of the tree I could see a rather scary red glow in the sky, far away in the direction of my poor pub, it gradually got fainter and fainter. The wind dropped slightly and the movement of my branch became more gentle, reminding me of the times I’d dozed on the old rocking chair in the back room of the pub. I closed my eyes and dreamed George had come to find me and was carrying me home.

When I woke up it was light, and there were birds singing. I stood up and had a good stretch, completely forgetting where I was, and almost fell out of the tree. Luckily my claws were out instantly, so that I was suspended for a moment, clinging to the underside of the branch until I managed to right myself. I gave myself a little shake, and automatically started to wash myself to show any birds who might have been watching, sniggering at my misfortune, that I wasn’t the least bit embarrassed or bothered how silly I might have looked. And then, in mid-wash, I glanced down, and saw it at the bottom of the tree. A fox.

Little kitten, I don’t suppose you’re old enough to have met a fox yet, so let me explain. If you think dogs are scary, you haven’t seen anything yet. Foxes don’t even have humans in charge of them like dogs are supposed to. They’re one of our worst enemies, almost as dangerous as cars. At least cars normally stay on roads, so we know how to avoid getting attacked by them. But foxes sneak up on you. They get into gardens and even walk down the street, just like we do, and if they see you they’ll chase you with their horrible big smirking mouth open showing their horrible sharp teeth. There’s only one way to get away from them – run up the nearest tree. So although, as you can probably imagine, my fur was standing on end at the sight of this snarling vicious creature staring up at me from the ground below, I knew I was in the best place. He couldn’t get me. I was so relieved about this that I actually started showing off to him a bit, arching my back at him and hissing and spitting – until I nearly overbalanced again and decided no amount of bravado was worth falling out of the tree and landing on top of him.

I sat back down on my branch, stretched out my paws and let my head hang over the edge so that I could keep one eye on the fox. I could tell he was getting annoyed about not being able to climb up and get me. He was pacing up and down at the bottom of the tree, walking round its trunk one way and then back round the other. And the whole time he was staring up at me, with a look on his nasty face like I can feel on my own when George puts a nice plate of food down for me. I shuddered to myself. If I put one paw out of place on that branch, I’d be his dinner. To my relief, after what seemed like hours of this walking round and round, the stupid fox must have got tired. He lay down, curled up like a little puppy dog, and fell asleep. I was safe for a while. The best plan of action would be to have another little nap myself.

It wasn’t until I woke up, and saw him still there at the bottom of the tree, that I realised three things, all at once. One: I’d had no breakfast and was now feeling very, very hungry. Two: I didn’t know which way was home anymore. I’d lost its scent, and there was no more red glow or smoke in the sky to tell me. And three: until that fox moved, I was stuck. If I tried to jump into another tree, he’d just follow me. I couldn’t get back down to the ground until he went away. And he didn’t look like giving up any time soon.

I thought about George, and my chair, and the warmth of the pub, and my food dish being filled up with lovely chicken or fish, and I couldn’t help it, little kitten. Even big grown-up cats cry sometimes. I sat on my branch and mewed pitifully to myself as the fox licked his lips and dribbled revoltingly beneath me. And I wondered if I’d ever see George or my home again.

CHAPTER TWO

It was getting colder, with a dusky sort of look in the sky, by the time I heard a new sound coming towards me. I sat very still, my ears up, listening carefully. It was like music, but different. The fox sat up too, and was looking around him nervously, and then he suddenly loped off, giving me an angry backward glance as he went. The sound was coming closer. I waited, my head on one side, trying to remember where I’d heard it before. And then it came back to me. Whistling! That’s what they called it. Humans did it by putting their mouths into a funny shape and pushing their breath out. It made a kind of tune that wasn’t always very pretty. Finally I heard the footsteps of the whistling human, treading on the dead leaves on the ground. And there he was, just a few trees away from me, walking quite quickly. If I didn’t shout now, he’d be out of earshot – humans don’t have very good hearing, you know. But was he someone I could trust? I wasn’t good at trusting humans, especially strange male ones – but that’s a story for another time. Well, this time I didn’t have a lot of choice, and I made a quick decision. If he was doing that whistling thing, he probably wasn’t in a bad mood. I’d noticed before that they did it when they were cheerful. So I stood up again on my branch and yowled as loudly as my little lungs would let me.

He stopped whistling, stood still just a little way from my tree and stared around him. Just a little further on, the fox was standing looking back too, but I hoped he wouldn’t risk coming back while the man was there. I don’t think foxes like humans. There are stories in cat folklore – and they might be made up, of course – that humans long ago used to ride around on horses, blowing horns and using dogs tohunt foxes. It sounds a bit unlikely, but I wouldn’t put anything past some humans. Anyway, there I was, crying and screaming out to get this man’s attention, and there he stood, looking up, down, and all around him with a puzzled expression on his face. Like I say, they don’t have very good hearing. But luckily, eventually he caught sight of me and it was the way he said, ‘Well, hello, up there’ in such a nice friendly way, that made me relax a bit and think perhaps I’d be able to trust him.

In fact he carried on talking to me as he approached my tree, smiling up at me and calling me a‘nice puss’ and asking whether I’d got stuck up the tree. Although I was very glad he was being so friendly, I felt a little bit patronised then, as I’m sure you can imagine. Stuck up the tree, indeed! Anyone would think I was an inexperienced little kitten like you. I wanted to tell him that if he’d only use his eyes, he’d notice there was a great big nasty snarling fox hiding in the undergrowth, watching us from a safe distance. Otherwise I’d have got down from that tree on my own, no trouble at all, thank you very much!

But I must admit, he was a pretty good tree climber himself. He was a fairly young, lean human and made good use of his front paws to swing himself up through the branches. He kept saying things like‘All right, good puss, sit tight, don’t panic.’ Then as soon as he was close enough, he reached out and grabbed me with such a sudden movement I nearly toppled off the branch with fright. I let him hold onto me going down again, which was a bit awkward for both of us, but I wanted to let the fox – if he was still watching – see that I now had a protector. When we were nearly at the bottom I jumped down, but stayed by the human’s feet, giving him a little display of gratitude, rubbing myself on his legs and purring. He looked down at me, a bemused expression on his face.

‘OK, you can run off home now, puss!’

I continued my rubbing and purring. He watched me for a bit longer.

‘What is it, then? Are you lost?’

Hooray! He’d got the message. I purred a bit louder. He picked me up again and looked at the little disc on my collar.

‘Oliver,’ he read out. ‘And no address, just a phone number.’ He got one of those mobile phone things out of his pocket, tapped it and sighed. ‘No signal here. Well, maybe I’d better take you home with me, Oliver, and give you some milk or something and then I can try…’

The mention of milk had reminded me of how hungry and thirsty I was, and I practically jumped into his arms this time when he bent to pick me up again. I’d decided I liked him. Perhaps he was a good one, like George. But then, to my horror, he picked up a bag he’d left by the tree trunk and pushed me into it, quite clumsily, head-first so that my tail nearly got caught in the zip as he did it up. I yowled my head off in protest. So much for trusting him! But as I felt him lift the bag up, he was talking to me through the flap.

‘Sorry about this, Oliver. You’ll be safer in the rucksack on my back, see, while I walk home with you. Otherwise I’m frightened you’ll jump out of my arms and run off when we get to the road, and there’ll be cars, and it’ll be dangerous. All right, all right!’ he said as I carried oncomplaining. Well, honestly! It wasso undignified, to say nothing of bringing back some terrible memories for me.‘It won’t be for long. Just try and sit still like a good puss.’

So I had to bump along in that bag as he strode off, whistling again. The bag was smelly and uncomfortable, with some bits of twigs at the bottom of it, and the walk seemed to take forever. Eventually I could tell from the sound of traffic that we were out of the woods, and then it wasn’t long before I heard him unlocking a door, closing it behind me and calling out, as he put my bag down gently on the floor:

‘Hello? Are you home, Nick?’

Then there was someone else’s voice – a young female by the sound of it.

‘Oh! You were quick! I’ve only just got in from the shop. Did you manage to get some firewood?’

‘No. Sorry.’ I felt him lift the bag again. ‘Look what I found instead.’ He started to undo the zip – I braced myself to jump out and hide in a corner somewhere until I’d made sure it was safe here, wherever I was. But then he stopped and asked: ‘Are all the doors and windows closed?’

‘Of course they are! It’s freezing out! Why, what on earth have you got there?’

And the bag was opened, and I made a dive for it– straight up the curtains at the nearest window.

‘A cat!’ squealed the female person. ‘Where did it come from, Daniel? Why have you brought it home?’

‘He was stuck up a tree! I got him down, and he wouldn’t leave me. I think he must be lost. He’s got a name tag on, with a phone number, but I didn’t have any signal, so I thought I’d better bring him home.’

‘Poor little thing!’ she said, looking up at me now, having apparently got over the shock of seeing me run up her curtains. ‘He looks scared stiff. Come on, kitty cat – what’s his name, Dan?’

‘Oliver. He’s very friendly. Come on down, Oliver,’ he added in that nice kind voice I liked. ‘I’ll get you some milk.’

Great. I was gasping for a drink. I jumped back down and followed him into a little kitchen where he poured me out a nice dish of milk, which I lapped up immediately and licked the dish clean.

‘I reckon he’s hungry,’ he said. ‘I don’t know how long he’d been stuck up that tree. Can we give him something to eat, Nicky?’

The girl started emptying tins out of a shopping bag onto the kitchen counter.

‘I’ve got some sardines here,’ she said doubtfully. Sardines! Yes – result! I immediately started winding myself round her legs, purring for all I was worth. ‘But they were supposed to be for lunch,’ she added quietly.

‘We can have something else, can’t we? You’ve got baked beans there. I’ll phone his owner as soon as he’s eaten. We won’t have to keep on feeding him.’

They were looking at each other with worried faces. I wondered what the problem was. I just wanted those sardines!

‘OK,’ the girl called Nicky finally agreed. She started opening the tin. The smell made me feel faint with hunger and longing. ‘Here you go, Oliver.’ She put the dish down on the floor and I fell on it. ‘Good grief, Dan, he must bestarving!’ she added, laughing. ‘Fair enough, his need’s even greater than ours.’

Out of the corner of my eye, while I wolfed down the food, I saw him put his arm round her and give her a kiss. That was good. I’d seen people sitting together in the pub doing that, and it usually meant they were happy.

‘I’m sorry about the firewood,’ he was saying. ‘I’ll go out again later.’

‘No, it’s five o’clock now and it’s dark already. Leave it till tomorrow and I’ll come with you. We can carry more, together. I just don’t think we can afford to put the heating on.’

‘I know. How much was the shopping this time?’

‘Not as bad as last week. The butcher gave me some cheap mince, and I got special offers on tea bags and butter.’

‘Well done.’ He gave her another kiss. ‘We’ll manage, Nick. If we can get through the winter, things will get better.’

And they stood like that, arms round each other, watching me till I’d finished eating. I had the impression they liked me but at the same time, wanted me to go home as soon as possible. And sure enough, the minute I’d finished the last morsel, Daniel picked me up and called out the number on my identity disc, while Nicky punched the numbers into her phone.

‘There’s no reply,’ she said after a while.

‘OK. Well, the owner’s probably just gone out somewhere. Looking for their cat, probably!’ he added, but Nicky didn’t laugh.

‘We can’t keep him, Dan,’ she said.

‘I know. Of course I know that.’ He stroked me, and I gave him a little purr. I wanted to go back to George, obviously, but I was feeling full and safe and warm now, and could easily have fallen asleep right there in Daniel’s arms. It had been a terrible time, what with the fox, and the trauma of the fire …

The fire! I meowed and twitched my tail anxiously as it all came back to me. Poor George! My poor pub. Did I evenhave a home to go back to now? I wanted to explain to nice Daniel and Nicky that the number on my disc might belong to a phone that was lying in a burnt-up wreck of a building where nobody could live anymore.

‘He still seems a bit distressed,’ Nicky commented, and she gave my head a little stroke. ‘Perhaps you’re right, he might have been lost for ages. Although he doesn’t look too thin.’

I took that as a compliment.

‘Let’s just try the phone number again later on,’ Daniel said. ‘I’m sure someone will be out looking for him. He’s such a lovely cat and he looks well cared-for.’

Iknew he was a human I could trust. He had good taste in cats. I was purring to myself happily as he put me down on a sofa, and I dozed off into a nice peaceful sleep.

CHAPTER THREE

It was a different voice that woke me up– a strange male voice. I was instantly on high alert, ears up, muscles tense, ready to run. The voice sounded friendly enough, but you can never be too sure.

‘I know who that is!’ The voice belonged to another male, a large one with a bristly face. I didn’t like the look of him. I gave him a warning growl as he came closer, but he just laughed. ‘It’s Ollie, the pub cat from the Forester’s Arms. You know Ollie, don’t you? Everyone in the village knows Ollie.’

Daniel and Nicky exchanged a sad kind of look.‘We never go there,’ Daniel said.

‘Oh. No, well, I suppose you haven’t lived here very long. Well, he belongs to George, the landlord. Blimey, I suppose he’s got nowhere to go, now. I take it you’ve seen what’s happened to the pub?’

‘Oh, yes, of course!’ Nicky gasped. ‘The fire.’

‘Yes, it’s pretty badly damaged, isn’t it?’ said Daniel. ‘And the village hall doesn’t look much better.’

‘Well, the fire brigade managed to put it out before the hall burned down completely, but you’re right, the pub and the hall will both be out of action for God knows how long.’ He stroked his bristly chin, looking at me seriously. ‘I wonder why old George didn’t take the cat with him whenhe left.’

Left?Left? I sat up straighter, unable to believe what I was hearing. George wouldn’tleave, without me!

‘Where’s he gone?’ Daniel asked.

‘To stay with his sister in London. Poor chap hasn’t got any other family, see. His sister’s offered to put him up till the repair work’s done. I reckon that’ll be the best part of a year. The insurance will have to pay out, of course, but you know how long that can take.’

‘How awful for him. Losing his homeand his livelihood,’ Nicky said, looking upset.

‘And his cat,’ the big man said, nodding at me. ‘We ought to let him know you’ve found him.’

‘We’ve tried, twice now. The number’s on his disc. No reply,’ Daniel said.

‘What number is it? Let me have a look.’ The big man reached out for me, and I yowled in fright and jumped off the sofa, running to hide behind the curtains. They all laughed. I didn’t really see what was funny. I was beginning to recognise this man as one of a group who came into the pub fairly often. They were always quite noisy together, drinking a lot of beer and playing something called dominoes that made them shout and laugh a lot. I always tried to stay clear of them. He seemed all right now, but like I’ve said, I don’t take chances with male humans until I’m sure of them.

‘Let me pick him up, Martin,’ Daniel said. ‘He seems to have got used to me. I found him stuck up a tree in Tunny Woods.’ He lifted me up and showed him my identity disc.

‘That’s the pub number,’ Martin said at once. ‘No good to you now! You’ll be needing George’s mobile. I’ve got it – I call him on that when it’s about the dominoes team matches.’ He sighed as he got his own phone out of his pocket and started tapping it. ‘We won’t have anywhere to holdthose for a while. We’d booked a table for our Christmas meal there, too. Ah well, that’s not important in the scheme of things, I suppose…’ He broke off suddenly, then shouted into the phone: ‘George? It’s Martin here, from the dominoes team. Sorry about the fire and everything, mate. How’re you doing?’

Daniel had put me back down on the sofa and Nicky was sitting next to me, stroking me, as we all listened to Martin telling George that I’d been found, safe and well, up the top of a tree. I felt so upset, knowing that my human, my best friend in the whole world, was on the other end of that phone, but I couldn’t see him or even hear him. I cried a few sad little meows and Nicky stroked me harder, saying ‘Ah, poor Oliver.’ Itold myself that at least I’d fallen on my paws with her and Daniel, when I could have ended up as a fox’s dinner, so I really shouldn’t feel too sorry for myself.

‘Would you guys be happy to hang onto the cat till he can sort something out?’ Martin said when he’d finally said goodbye to George.

Nicky and Daniel were looking at each other anxiously.

‘How long’s that likely to be?’ Daniel said. ‘Only I’m not being funny, but I thought George would be coming straight round to collect him.’

So did I. I mean, they seemed nice people, and they seemed to like me, but I missed George, and it was horrible to think he might notwant me back. Had I upset him in some way? I’d done my best, hadn’t I, going upstairs to wake him up and warn him about the fire. I couldn’t have done much more.

‘No,’ Martin was saying. ‘He’s in a bit of a pickle, by the sound of it. His sister’s being very good, putting him up and everything. But she lives on a main road in a busy part of London, apparently, and George says the cat’s not used to heavy traffic. He’d be worried all the time about him getting out and getting run over. So he was wondering whether anyone in the village would be able to look after Oliver for him.’

I’d given a little squawk of alarm at the thought of the heavy traffic. It was true, cars frightened me. There weren’t usually too many on the roads in the village, but there was a big loud main road a bit further down the hill from the pub. I’d heard people calling it a bypass and saying the village was much more peaceful since it had been built – but it scared the life out of me and I stayed right away from it.

‘Not only that,’ Martin went on, ‘but his sister suffers from allergies. Cat hair’s the worst thing.’

Oh, allergies– yes, I’d heard about this before. A lady who came into the pub once, started sneezing really badly and when she saw me, she made a fuss in between sneezes, saying cats shouldn’t be allowed in pubs because of our hair and people’sallergies. George was very nice to her about it, saying how sorry he was about her sneezing, but he explained the pub was my home and he couldn’t expect me to stay outside, and perhaps if she’d like to sit in the other bar (where the meals were served and I wasn’t allowed), she’d be all right. But she went off with a cross face and never came back.

‘Oh dear,’ said Nicky, and she looked at Daniel again, and he looked back at her, and both their mouths were turned down. Nicky was still stroking me, so I knew she still liked me, but there seemed to be some kind of problem here.

‘We can’t keep him,’ Daniel said, looking upset. ‘It’s just, to be quite honest…’ He went a bit red and didn’t seem to want to go on.

‘We can’t afford to feed him,’ Nicky blurted out. ‘I’m sorry. It’s embarrassing to admit it, but we can hardly afford to feed ourselves. The rent … and our fares…’

‘Oh, right, of course, I understand,’ Martin said. He sort of shifted from one paw to the other, the way humans do when they feel awkward. ‘Everyone’s hard up these days, aren’t they, what with the bloody government, bloody banks, economy being what it is…’ He tailed off, and then added quickly, ‘Well, look, I could always take him back next door with me, instead.’

I stiffened again, ready to run up the curtains. Noway was I going home with him. I didn’t trust him yet. His voice was too loud, his face was too red and bristly, and he had very big front paws. I looked at nice Nicky and meowed my distress to her, but she didn’t seem to be taking any notice.

‘Are you sure?’ she said. ‘But you and Sarah have got the two kids to feed, and … well, isn’t it a bit soon after Sooty?’

Sooty? Who was Sooty, and what did he have to do with it? I meowed again, my anxiety increasing.

Martin’s face seemed to turn sad for a minute. Then he gave a little shrug and I saw him making an effort to smile again.

‘I think it’ll actuallyhelp the children to get over Sooty. Having another cat around could be exactly the right thing. We’re going to get another one of our own, of course. We just haven’t really had time to think about it yet.’

So Sooty was a cat, and it sounded like something had happened to him. And Martin sounded upset about it. I stopped meowing and gave him another glance. If he’d had a cat already, and missed him, surely he couldn’t be all bad.

‘Anyway, we’ve got more space next door, and a garden,’ he went on, and this time his voice sounded more cheerful again. ‘And the kids would play with him’.

I felt sorry that something had happened to this Sooty cat, of course, but if I’m really honest, I was relieved that there wasn’t going to be another cat next door if I went there. The thing is, little kitten,some male cats can be really funny about what they call theirterritory. They go around spraying everywhere to mark their boundaries and get quite aggressive if any other cat crosses into their area, even if it’s by accident. That’s how a lot of fights start. I could never see the point of it – I prefer a quiet life, myself.

‘Well,’ Nicky was saying now, and she was still stroking me, still looking at me sadly, making me think she’d like me to stay really. ‘It might be better for Oliver, too, because we’re both out at work all day and he might get lonely. Are you absolutely sure it’ll be OK with Sarah?’

‘Of course it will. Sarah’s a soft touch with animals.’

That was good to hear, too. I was beginning to think it might be OK to go with Martin after all. But I still flinched when he went to pick me up, and this time it was Nicky who laughed.

‘Martin won’t hurt you, Oliver,’ she said, and she picked me up instead. ‘Come on, I’ll carry you in next door, shall I? You’ll like Sarah. And the children.’

Children. Kitten-humans. That’d be interesting. I often used to watch some playing outside the pub, on the village green. Perhaps they’d play with me. At least that’d make the time go more quickly until George could come back for me. *

The house next door was completely different from Nicky and Daniel’s. Not that I’d had much time to explore theirs, but the living room was tiny, and the kitchen where I ate my food was not much bigger than the broom cupboard back at the pub. And when I’d been hanging onto the top of their curtains, I’d looked for a garden, but there wasn’t one: just a little bit of paving with one of those washing lines that goes round and round in the wind. When Nicky carried me into Martin and Sarah’s house, I could see the garden straight away, through the big glass doors at the end of the lounge. There was lots of nice grass, and bushes – places for hiding – and even some swings like the ones they had on the village green for the children. There were two little girls playing in the garden, wrapped up in coats and boots, chasing each other around. It looked like fun and I quite fancied joining in. But Nicky sat down with me on her lap while Martin explained all about me to Sarah.

‘Oh, poor Oliver!’ Sarah said when she’d heard the whole story about George and the pub and the sister with the allergies. She was a smiley, cuddly-looking female, with pretty long golden hair, and she kept smiling at me. ‘Ofcourse he can stay with us. The children will love him, and I’m sure you’re right, it’ll help us all get over Sooty.’

‘Well, if there’s any problem, we’ll take him back. We’ll manage somehow,’ Nicky said anxiously. ‘I’dlove to look after him, if only…’

She looked so sad at not being able to afford my dinners, I felt really upset for her. I gave her a little lick on her hand and rubbed my face against hers.

‘He’s really taken to you, hasn’t he?’ Sarah said. ‘Tell you what – we could kind of share him, couldn’t we? Till George comes back? I mean, we’ll feed him here, of course, it’s no trouble, as I only do a bit of freelance work so I’m here most of the day. But I bet he’ll stillcome next door to you for extra cuddles.’

Well, that seemed to cheer Nicky up, and it did me, too. Yes, I certainly seemed to have fallen on my paws! Not one new foster-home, but two. Neither of them were going to be as good as being back with George in the pub, of course. But I just had to be a big brave cat and make the best of it. There were a lot of cats worse off than me. And I’d been through a lot worse myself, in fact, when I was a very small kitten, even younger than you. But as I’ve said already, that’s another story. I might tell you one day, even though it still makes me shiver to think about it. But right now, little kitten, it’s getting late, and getting dark, and I think we both need to go back for our dinners. I’ll tell you some more tomorrow.

CHAPTER FOUR

Hello again. You’re awake early, aren’t you? Couldn’t sleep? Huh, I remember feeling like that sometimes when I was a younger cat – on nice bright mornings like this, when there were birds to chase and flies to jump around after. Now, there aren’t enough hours in the day for all the catnaps I need.

Oh, it’s because you’re excited to hear the rest of my story, is it? Well, I warn you, it might take a long while and you’ll probably get fed up before the end of it and want to be off dancing around in the sunshine again. What it is to be young!

All right, where did I get up to yesterday? Ah yes– Martin and Sarah’s house. I slept well there, that first night. Sarah made me up a lovely comfy bed in Sooty’s old basket, with soft blankets and some kind of furry toy from one of the children to keep me company. Of course, you know what it’s like, don’t you? I didn’t often sleep there after the first night. No matter how comfy a bed is, we cats like to find different places to sleep. There was an armchair in their lounge with a big thick velvety cushion on, that I was particularly fond of.

Anyway, let me tell you about the children. They were two small females, called Grace and Rose. Grace was bigger than Rose. She giggled a lot and moved around very quickly. She got so excited when Sarah introduced me to her, I thought she was going to run up the curtains. Rose was different– quiet and not so happy looking. I could see why. She had a damaged front paw. It was wrapped up in a kind of hard case that looked like a bandage, and she had to wear something they called a sling, like a harness round her neck, to keep it in place. I felt sorry for her and gave her some extra licks and rubs, but although one minute she was smiling as if she was pleased to meet me, she suddenly burst into tears and started saying ‘Sooty! Sooty!’ over and over while she cried. I didn’t like to think I’d upset her. I ran off and hid under a chair.

‘Don’t worry, Oliver,’ Sarah said kindly, bending down under the chair to talk to me. ‘It’s not your fault. Rose is still upset about losing her other cat.’

Well, after a little while she did stop crying, and the two girls played with me nicely indoors with a ball and an empty cardboard box. Yes, I know you might think I was a bit old for that kind of stuff, but we cats never grow out of the cardboard box thing. It’s justso much fun, I never get tired of it! While we were playing, I could hear Martin and Sarah talking quietly in the kitchen. They probably thought none of us could hear, but perhaps they forgot what sharp ears we cats have.

‘I hope we’re doing the right thing,’ Sarah said, sounding worried. ‘She hasn’t cried that much since the day it happened.’

‘Then it probablyis the right thing. She’s been bottling up her feelings.’

‘I know. She’s hardly spoken since it happened, has she? I keep trying to encourage her to talk about the accident, but she won’t.’

‘In her mind, the two things are linked. She ran into the road after Sooty…’

‘Well, Martin, let’s face it, theyare linked! But she can’t accept that it wasn’t her fault.’

There was a silence for a while, apart from the sound of saucepans and things being moved around. Apparently they were preparing Sunday Lunch. That was something I knew about, from all those busy times in the pub. It made me feel a bit homesick.

‘I just hope it’ll cheer her up, having Oliver here,’ Sarah suddenly went on. ‘She’s refused to go out and play with the other children all through half-term, and Grace hasn’t wanted to go out without her. So they’ve both been stuck at home for the whole holiday. It’s a good thing they’re going back to school tomorrow really. It might take her mind off it.’

‘Poor love, she can’t really forget about the accident at all until the cast comes off her arm. And they’re both obviously missing poor old Sooty.’

‘Yes.’ I heard Sarah’s sigh, all the way from the next room. ‘Brownies would have helped cheer her up – she normally loves going to Brownies.’

‘But they can’t hold their meetings, can they, while the hall’s out of action.’

‘Exactly. I don’t know what’s going to happen there. And it’s not just Brownies, of course. The Cubs’ meetings are there too and, well, everything that goes on in the village! The senior citizens’ club, the WI, the nursery and the pre-school…’

‘You’re right. It’s going to be a long time before the hall’s fit for purpose. All those pensioners will miss their meetings, for sure. And the parents who work. How will they manage without the nursery?’ He paused. ‘And there was I, worrying about missing my dominoes matches in the pub.’

‘Typical!’ Sarah gave a little laugh. ‘I don’t know how everyone’s going to manage, Martin. But I feel like I ought to try and do something to help. Christmas isn’t that far off, and unless we can find another venue, everything’s going to have to be cancelled. All the children’s parties, the pensioners’ dinner – everything! Perhaps I’ll have a word with Brown Owl and see if she’s got any ideas. That’d be a start.’

They went quiet, then, and although I was still enjoying sitting in the box, peeping over the top of it and making Grace shriek with laughter, all I really wanted to do, after hearing all that, was to sit on Rose’s lap and try to cheer her up. I was sad about Sooty, too, and it made me shiver inside to think about what must have happened to him. I was beginning to realise I wasn’t the only one, cat or human, with problems. My two new foster families were helping me, and I only wished I could help them in return. *

When I woke up on my nice comfy armchair the next morning, I could hear Grace chatting in the kitchen and Sarah talking about breakfast and lunch boxes and something called aPE kit. I did my stretching and yawning, gave myself a good wash, and by the time I’d strolled into the kitchen the children had been sent upstairs to finish getting ready for school. Martin was talking quietly to Sarah, saying he hoped Rose was going to be OK at school, and that he’d see them all later.

‘Aha, look who’s come in for his breakfast,’ he said, spotting me walking round and round the empty food dish on the floor. I gave a couple of loud meows to show how ready I was to be fed, and he laughed and bent down to stroke me. Even though I’d decided now that I liked him, I still shrank away from his touch. I couldn’t help it, it was such a deep instinct in me. Then I felt bad about it, because he was feeding me and giving me a nice warm house to stay in, after all, and I hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings. So I rubbed myself against his back paws a few times to make up for it.

‘All right, boy! Grub’s coming,’ he said, getting a tin of something out of the cupboard and opening it up. Salmon! I purred my head off in gratitude and fell on the food hungrily.

Sarah was watching me.‘I’ll have to stock up on tinned cat food,’ she told Martin. ‘We can’t keep on giving him things like that.’

What a shame. But still, hopefully she’d buy nice cat food. *

After Martin said goodbye and went off in the car to drive to his work, wherever that was, Sarah and the children put their coats and shoes on to walk to the school bus-stop. Grace was complaining that she was nine and a half now, and Rose was nearly eight, and they were both big enough to walk round to the bus-stop on their own, but Sarah gave her a frown and said‘Shush, Grace. I want to come with you this morning.’

Even I, with my little cat’s brain, understood that it was because of Rose being upset, and having the broken paw, that she wanted to go with them. I think Grace understood too then, because she didn’t say anything else. Rose hadn’t said a single word since breakfast. She looked pale and sad and forgot to say goodbye to me. I wanted to go with them, but Sarah closed the door on me, calling out that she wouldn’t be long. Luckily, I’d already clocked that there was a cat flap in the kitchen door because of Sooty, and it wasn’t locked, so I jumped out, found my way round the side of the house and followed them down the street.

‘Oh no!’ Grace said when she noticed me. ‘Will he get lost, Mummy?’

‘I don’t think so. He only lived just down the road from here before, you know. In the pub.’

Just down the road? I could hardly believe my ears. I’d been completely lost in that wood, imagining myself miles and miles from home, and yet after being carried for only a little way in Daniel’s rucksack I was nowjust down the road from my pub? I felt a quiver of excitement go through me. Sure enough, as we made our way down the road I was beginning to recognise places. There was the village shop. There was the house where the noisy big black dog lived. I ran past that one quickly! And there was the village green, with the children’s swings and the benches where people sat and chatted when it was warmer weather. And there … oh my goodness. I stopped, staring at my pub – the only proper home I’d ever known – and I felt a terrible howl of anguish rising up in my little chest. Sarah and the children had walked on, and I ran to catch them up, crying as I went.

‘What’s the matter with Oliver, Mummy?’ Grace asked, and Sarah turned back to look from me to the blackened, ruined buildings over the road. She gazed for a minute at the sky where the pub roof used to be, the gaping empty holes where the windows were, the remains of curtains flapping in the breeze, and bits of black, burnt furniture left half in and half out of doorways. She turned and looked at the village hall next door, which looked like a giant animal had sat on it and made the top cave in, and then she shook her head, bent down to stroke me and said to the children:

‘He’s crying because his home’s burnt down.’

‘Poor Oliver,’ said Grace. Then she looked up. ‘Mummy,’ she said in a hurried, anxious little voice. ‘That boy in front of us is Michael Potts in my class, and he’s not very nice.’

Sure enough, there was a young male human, a bit bigger than Grace, staring at us from further down the road.

‘Has your sister got another cat?’ he called out to Grace. ‘Is she going to kill that one too?’ And he laughed in a horrible, rude way. I don’t know why he thought it was funny, but it certainly wasn’t. I was so furious to think that it might start Rose crying again, I didn’t even stop to consider the fact that he was a strange male. I ran straight up to him, hissing and spitting with anger, my fur up on end, my ears flat to my head and my tail huge with threat. I had my claws out and would have jumped up his legs and scratched him if Sarah hadn’t come running after me.

‘Hey, hey, that’s enough, Oliver!’ she said, but she wasn’t being cross with me. She sounded quite pleased in a funny way.

‘That cat’s dangerous,’ the nasty boy said. He’d backed away from me and was looking at me with big frightened eyes. ‘You ought to keep him indoors.’

‘Cats go wherever they want,’ Sarah said calmly. ‘That’s why sometimes, sadly, they get hit by cars on the road. I’m sure you heard that’s what happened to our Sooty.’

She was giving him a hard stare that made him open his eyes even wider.

‘Y … yes, I know,’ he said in a scaredy-cat squeak.

‘So I presume you also heard that Rose ran into the road to try to save him?’ she went on. ‘She did it without thinking, but she was too late. She got hurt herself. She was a very brave little girl.’

The boy just stood there, looking at the ground, shifting from paw to paw, and Sarah took hold of both the girls and said,‘Come on, children, or you’ll be late for the bus,’ and they walked on.

Me? I tried to give the boy the same sort of stare Sarah had used on him. All cats know that’s supposed to be a hostile signal. But by now my bravery had fizzled out a bit and I don’t think it worked very well.

‘Stupid ginger cat!’ he hissed at me as soon as Sarah was out of earshot.

Ginger-and-white, actually. I was proud of my white bits.

It was all too much for me. I watched until they’d all turned the corner, and then I went back the way we’d come. This time I couldn’t even bear to look when I passed the pub.

CHAPTER FIVE

Sarah seemed to be a long time coming back from the school bus. I went out in the garden and had a look around. There were a couple of big fat woodpigeons out there, always good for a spot of chasing, they’re so slow and stupid. I amused myself with them for a while until it got boring. Then I climbed the fence at the side and looked down into the little paved area outside Nicky and Daniel’s house. From here, their house looked even smaller, a bit like the toy house I’d seen in the children’s bedroom, with only one window at the bottom and one at the top. The roof was slanting and covered with moss and everything about it looked sort of wonky. It reminded me of an old tatty cat, struggling to stay upright, whereas Sarah and Martin’s house, although it wasn’t big like the pub, was younger and smarter, like a sleek, well-fed, well-groomed cat. Much like myself. No need to laugh, little kitten. I may not be a youngster anymore but I’m still in my prime, let me tell you. I could still give a little kitten like you a run for your money.

Haven’t they given you a name yet, by the way? I can’t keep on calling you Little Kitten forever. What’s that you say? They’re calling youKitty? What sort of a name is that for a boy cat, for heaven’s sake? Oh, I see, it’s just till they decide on a good name. Well, they’d better hurry up about it. I’m not calling youKitty in front of all the other cats. You’d be a laughing stock.

Anyway, so I jumped down into Nicky and Daniel’s little yard and had a sniff around, but there wasn’t much there, and they had no cat flap so I couldn’t get inside the house. I remembered them saying they both went out to work all day, so I thought I’d go back and see them later. It was cold, so I was glad to get back inside Sarah’s nice warm kitchen and have a little nap in Sooty’s old bed.

A little later, I heard voices coming from the lounge. It was Sarah, and another female, and they were making peculiar noises that made my fur stand up in alarm.

‘A-cootchy-cootchy-coo!’ Sarah was going. ‘A-boo, cootchy-coo!’

Was she trying to imitate a pigeon? I sat up in bed, my head on one side, wondering whether it was safe to go into the lounge and look.

‘Ah, look at his little face!’ she was saying now. ‘Do you want your dum-dum, diddums?’

Dum-dum, diddums? Was this some foreign language I hadn’t come across before? One of the regulars in the pub used to speak something they called Spanish, and someone else spoke normal English but with a very funny accent they calledAmerican, but this was different altogether.

‘He probably wants feeding again,’ the other woman said in a more normal voice, sounding kind of weary. ‘Is that what you want, little man? Milky-poos?’

Milky-poos? It sounded disgusting, put like that. I slunk out of the kitchen, keeping to the walls, and peered around the lounge door. There was Sarah, sitting on the sofa with the other woman, and on her lap was this tiny, tiny human. Honestly, he was probably smaller than me! Well, I knew humans had kittens, obviously, like we do, but I never realised they started off so small. Not only that, he’d now started meowing just like a cat-kitten. It was all very confusing. As I watched, the new woman lifted him up, undid her shirt and started feeding him. This made a bit more sense. It reminded me of being fed by my own mother, along with my brothers and sisters, before … everything terrible happened, long ago. I couldn’t help myself from giving a little mew of sorrow at the bittersweet memory, and both women looked up and saw me.

‘Oh, here he is!’ Sarah said. ‘Oliver, our new house guest – but of course, you’ve met him already.’

Had she?

‘Oh yes.’ The other female smiled at me. She looked nice, probably a slightly younger female than Sarah, but her dark hair was tied back off her face as if she’d done it in a hurry, and her eyes looked like she needed a good long cat-nap. ‘What a little hero he is!’

A hero? What could she mean? She must be muddling me up with some other good-looking ginger-and-white cat.

‘I remember him from the pub,’ she went on. ‘We used to go there for a pie and a pint every Friday night, before we…’ Her face went a bit funny, then, like she was trying not to cry. ‘When I was working,’ she went on quickly. ‘Before I had the baby.’

‘You’ll be able to go out again, Hayley. Jack’s only a couple of months old, and things will get easier. When he’s stopped needing the night feeds, you’ll be able to get a babysitter.’

‘Will I?’ she said, sounding like she didn’t believe it. ‘Tom booked a table for us for Christmas Eve, you know, as a special treat. He said by then the baby should have settled down a bit, and I could ask one of the mums at the mother-and-baby group to recommend a babysitter. But now the pub’s gone.’

‘Couldn’t you go somewhere else? If you can get babysitters for an evening, Tom could drive you into town to the Italian restaurant, or that big chain pub. They do lovely cheap meals there.’

‘But there’s no mother-and-baby group now either! I’m so disappointed! I’d only just joined, and I was looking forward to getting to know some of the other mums with babies around here. It’s not just Little Broomford mums who come to the group, apparently. They come from Great Broomford and all the other villages around here, and how else can we get to know people, stuck out here in the back of beyond?’ Her voice was starting to sound like the wail of a cat crying. I wondered if I should go and rub my head against her legs. ‘I miss my colleagues in the office. I miss seeing lotsof people every day. I even miss commuting on the bloody train.’

‘Of course you do,’ Sarah soothed her. ‘It’s a huge change, being at home with a little baby, after being out at work every day. But you’ll soon get used to it, really you will. Meanwhile, if you and Tom want to book somewhere for an evening out around Christmas time,I could babysit for you.’

‘Oh! Sarah, I couldn’t expect you to do that. You’ll be busy – you’ve got your own children. I hope you don’t think I was hinting.’ She went red and put her paw over her mouth.

‘Of course I don’t!’ Sarah smiled at her. ‘I remember what it was like, when my girls were babies. You need something to look forward to.’

‘Well, Iwas looking forward to Christmas this year. Jack’s first Christmas – it sounded so exciting. But now, I’m just so tired all the time, I can’t even be bothered to think about it. And I wish I didn’t feel so lonely. Don’t get me wrong, it’s been really lovely talking toyou. It was so kind of you to invite me round like this.’

‘It was nice ofyou to ask me if everything was all right,’ Sarah said. ‘I didn’t even notice you sitting there on the village green till I was on my way back from the bus-stop. You saw the whole thing?’

‘I did, yes. What a brave cat Oliver was, fronting up to that Michael Potts like a right little tiger! Scared the life out of him, didn’t he?’

Alittle tiger! I don’t mind saying, I purred out loud with pride. Both the women were laughing and giving me affectionate smiles. I did a happy circuit of the coffee table, and then rubbed myself against Sarah’s legs and gave her a blink of my eyes as a kiss. She was one of my humans now and I wanted her to know that I liked her. *

When the children came back from school, I was pleased to see that Rose looked a bit happier.

‘Her friends were nice to her, about Sooty,’ Grace said. ‘And everyone wrote on her plaster – look!’

Sarah smiled as she read some of the messages.‘That’s nice,’ she said. ‘They’ve all written about how brave you were, Rose.’

‘AndOliver was brave, too, this morning, wasn’t he, Mummy!’ Grace said, running over to me and giving me a cuddle. I purred again with pleasure. I’d never been calledbrave or atiger before today. I’d probably neverbeen brave before!

Then Rose came over to me too. She was smiling and stroking me with her good paw, and when she said in a quiet little voice,‘I love you, Oliver,’ Grace and Sarah both laughed out loud like they were really pleased and excited. I felt pretty good myself, too. *

After I’d had my dinner, I decided it was time to pop back next door and see if Daniel and Nicky were home. Because they didn’t have a cat flap, I had to stand at the front door making as much noise as possible, and it wasn’t long before Nicky let me in. She seemed really happy to see me.

‘Look who’s here,’ she called to Daniel. ‘Ah, it’s lovely to see you again, Oliver. Have you had a good day?’

I wanted to tell her all about being a brave tiger, and cheering little Rose up, but I just had to make do with a lot of purring.

‘I’ll give him a saucer of milk. I’m surethat won’t strain the finances too much,’ she said, going to the fridge.

‘I get paid this week,’ Daniel said. ‘Maybe then we can help Martin and Sarah out a bit with feeding him.’

Just then, the phone started ringing and he answered it while I drank my lovely milk.

‘Yes, this is Daniel,’ he was saying. ‘Oh yes, hello, George. I know, I was here when Martin called you. Oh, well, of course not! You’ve had such a terrible shock, and such a lot to think about, I can understand that you wouldn’t have been able to think straight. Yes, it must have been a relief to know Oliver’s all right. He’s here in the kitchen with me right now, actually, drinking some milk! Yes, he’s absolutely fine, don’t worry.’ There was a long pause, and then: ‘Oh, no, George – no, it’s actually … no, look, it’s not us you need to give it to. No, listen,we’re not actually feeding him – Martin and Sarah are. We’re kind-of sharing looking after Oliver, you see, because Nicky and I are out at work all day, and Sarah and the kids are more company for him. Yes, and I know they’re happy to do it. Well, you’d need to ask them, really, but honestly, you mustn’t sendus any money– he’s not costing us anything, you see. No, that’s just a drop of milk! Honestly, Sarah’s feeding him! OK, well you discuss it with them, then. Nice to speak to you. Hope you’re settling down all right with your sister. Bye.’

‘Was George offering to pay for Oliver’s keep?’ Nicky asked as I washed myself thoroughly after finishing the milk. She’d come to listen at the kitchen doorway.

I meowed at the sound of George’s name. He must have been thinking about me, missing me, to phone them like that.

‘Yes, he said he felt terrible for not suggesting it the other day. He’d been so overwhelmed with relief about Oliver being OK. And now he wanted to send us a cheque! Even when I explained that we weren’t the ones feeding him, he tried to argue that it must be costing us something to give hima drop of milk now and then.’

‘Ah, it was nice of him to offer. And that’s good if he’s going to send next door a bit of money to help with the food.’

‘Yes. I don’t feel quite so guilty about it now. It was pretty embarrassing having to admit to Martin that we’re so hard up we couldn’t even buy a few cans of cat food.’

‘Perhaps my parents were right, Dan.’ Nicky sounded sad. ‘We should have waited. Moving in together before we had enough money was stupid, wasn’t it. We can barely even pay the rent.’

‘But it was awful living with your parents. I’m sorry, Nick, it was good of them to let us, but we both know it wasn’t working out. They don’t really approve of me, and it’s affectedyour relationship with them.’ He sighed. ‘Maybe theywere right. Maybe you should have found someone better, someone with more money who could support you properly.’

‘Don’t say that! You know I didn’t want anyone else.’ She put her arms round him and hugged him, and I felt so sorry for them both I joined in, walking round both their legs and stroking them with my head until they started to laugh.

‘At least Oliver doesn’t care whether we’re rich or poor,’ Daniel said.

‘I don’t care either. We’ll manage somehow, Dan. And when my parents see how we’ve made a go of it, they’ll change their minds, I know they will. They’re not unreasonable, and it’s not that they don’t like you. They just worry.’

Daniel nodded and gave her another hug, and went back into the living room to read the paper. Nicky stayed in the kitchen with me for a minute, watching me finishing my wash.

‘The trouble is, Ollie,’ she said to me in a soft little voice that wouldn’t carry into the other room, ‘he doesn’t know that they planned to come and see us at Christmas. They were going to stay overnight at the pub. It would’ve been the first time they’d made the effort to visit since we moved in. My two brothers were coming too. We can’t possibly put them up here – we’ve only got one bedroom and it’s tiny. They’re not going to be impressed when I tell them they can’t come.’

Oh dear. I didn’t really understand why her parents seemed to have made Nicky and Daniel unhappy. But it was pretty obvious that they weren’t going to be able to stay at the pub now. I was beginning to see that the fire was making a lot of difficulties for my new human friends, as well as for me and George. If only I could think of a way to help.

CHAPTER SIX

The next day when the children came home from school again, they had two other little girls with them.

‘Show us, then!’ one of them was saying to Grace as they walked in the door. ‘What sort of cat is he? Is he friendly?’

I was in my favourite chair in the lounge, having a little doze. I opened one eye and watched them standing in the doorway.

‘Yes, when he gets to know you,’ Grace replied. ‘But he’s a bit shy at first, so don’t crowd him, please.’ She sounded very proud and important to be showing me off. ‘Let Rose pick him up. He likes her best.’

I thought that was nice of her, and I could tell Rose did too, because she was smiling as she came over to me.

‘Hello, Oliver,’ she whispered. ‘We’ve brought some friends to meet you. Don’t be frightened, they’re very nice.’

It was probably the most I’d heard her speak. I let her pick me up, and she carried me to the sofa where she sat with me on her lap and beckoned the other girls to join us.

‘He’s lovely!’ squealed one of them. ‘Can we stroke him?’

‘Yes, but very gently,’ Grace said. ‘He’s still getting used to us. Daddy says he was always shy with strangers, when he lived in the pub, and didn’t like people touching him.’

The two friends put their little paws gently on my head and back and stroked me very carefully. It was nice. I didn’t mind them. Human kittens generally seemed kind, apart from that nasty big male the previous morning.

‘He’s purring,’ one of them said, excitedly. ‘He likes us!’

‘He’s not a bit like your other cat,’ the second girl said – and then she put her paw over her mouth and added, ‘Oh! Sorry, Rose. I didn’t say it to upset you.’

‘It’s all right,’ Rose said quietly.

‘It’s just that he’s different, isn’t he. Sooty was so big and black and, well, quite old, but Oliver’s a really pretty colour and he looks like he’s not much more than a kitten.’

What a nice child. I stretched my neck towards her appreciatively. She was obviously a connoisseur of cats.

‘I know.’ Rose gave a little smile. ‘I’m glad he’s different. I wouldn’t have liked it if he was like Sooty. It would have made me cry to look at him.’

I couldn’t get over how much Rose was talking. Sarah had come into the room behind the children and was listening to them, smiling.

‘Would you all like a glass of milk and some biscuits, girls?’ she said, and they scrambled off to the kitchen.

‘Can we play with Oliver afterwards?’

‘Can we give him some milk?’

‘Have you got any toys for him?’

They were chatting away excitedly, looking back at me as they went.

‘Is he yours forever now?’ I heard one of them say after they’d gone out of sight.

‘No.’ Grace sounded disappointed. ‘Mummy says we’re sharing him with next door, but only till his owner comes back from London. But it might be quite a long time.’

‘Maybe your mum and dad will get you another cat the same as him, after he goes.’

And it was Rose’s little voice that answered: ‘I hope so. I want oneexactly like Oliver.’ *

Later on, after we’d all tired ourselves out with a game of jumping out at each other from behind the sofa, and another one of rolling a ball of wool across the floor and pouncing after it, the friends got their coats on and waited for their parents to come and walk them home. It was dark outside, and raining, andI was wondering how much longer I could put off going out to empty my bladder. I’ve always been a very clean cat and it would have been unthinkable to me to have an accident indoors, especially when I was really a guest in the house. But the sound of the wind and rain was putting me off. I sat with my nose against the cat flap, thinking about it, and the children watched me, laughing.

‘We could study Oliver for our Brownies’ “Friend to Animals” badge,’ one of them said suddenly.

‘Oh, yes, that’s a good idea,’ Grace said. ‘All of us in our Six could work on the badge together!’ She sounded very excited. ‘As I’m Sixer of the Foxes, I think I should be the one to tell Brown Owl we want to do it.’

Foxes? I turned round and stared at them in horror. What was all this about foxes?

‘But we aren’t having any Brownie meetings, are we,’ the other friend said, sadly, ‘because of the village hall.’

‘So?’ Grace said. ‘I’ll ask Mummy if all the Foxes can come and meethere every week.’

I’d heard enough. I pushed the cat flap open and jumped out into the garden. It might have been cold and wet, but if they were going to start having foxes in the house, I was going to have to get used to making myself scarce. *

I admit I was a coward where foxes were concerned. And yes, it was true, I’d always been a bit of a scaredy-cat about being touched by strange humans. But ever since the incident with the young male who was horrible to Rose, and especially after I’d been called a brave boy, and a tiger, because of it, I could actually feel myself becoming bolder and more adventurous.I did sometimes have bad dreams about the night the pub caught fire, and getting lost in the woods. And when the other nightmare – the one I’d been having since I was a little kitten – happened, I woke up shaking all over with my heart racing, just as I’d always done. But I was beginning torealise that most humans seemed to be all right, after all – that although George would always be my favourite, he wasn’t the only one who could be kind and gentle.

When I lived in the pub, I only ventured out into the village when George had to go out and I was bored of being on my own. There were a few other cats nearby and we sometimes met round the back of the shop, where the dustbins were. So a day or two later, when Sarah was out and I was alone in their house, I decided I’d recovered enough from the shock of the fire to risk a little walk around the village on my own.

I went straight to the shop and looked round the back, but just my luck, none of my cat friends were playing there that morning. I’d been looking forward to telling them all about my heroic rescue of George, to say nothing of the way I’d escaped the foxand seen off the aggressive young human. Me, a scaredy-cat? They’d soon change their opinion of me! But it seemed like I’d have to save my stories for another day.

I wandered back round to the street, and there in front of the shop were two human females, both pushing those wheeled contraptions they called prams, and trying to chat to each other over the mewing and meowing noises coming from inside them.

‘Oh look,’ said one of the women. ‘It’s Oliver, George’s cat from the pub. We were wondering what had happened to him. I hope he hasn’t just been living rough somewhere since the fire.’

‘He doesn’tlook like he’s been living rough,’ the other one said.

‘No. Hopefully someone’s taken him in. Is someone looking after you, Oliver?’

‘Yes,’ I meowed. ‘I’ve got two nice foster homes, thank you.’ But of course, neither of them spoke Cat, so they just kept looking at me as they carried on their conversation together about how sad it was having no mother-and-baby group meetings.

I wandered off, further down the street to the village green in case my friend Tabby and the other cats were hanging out there instead. But instead of them, I found another human with a pram. It was Hayley, who’d been at Sarah’s house with the baby Jack, on the day of my heroic confrontation with Michael Potts. She was sitting on the bench, holding the handle of her pram, and just staring at the ground. She looked up when I trotted towards her, and said: ‘Oh, hello, Oliver.’ But she didn’t sound particularly happy.

I jumped up onto the other end of the bench and meowed a hello to her, but she just sighed and said,‘Are you all on your own today too?’

I thought it was a strange thing to say, because obviously shewasn’t on her own– she had Jack with her. But apparently she just wanted to talk to me, even though I was only a cat, because she went on, ‘I wish I could still see the friends I had at work. I shouldn’t have given up my job, Oliver, but I couldn’t imagine how I’d manage, commuting and working and lookingafter a baby, or paying a child minder. Oh, I had no idea it was all going to be so hard. I feel so tired all the time, and I suppose I’m justlonely. I wish I had some friends in the village. Just some other mums I could talk to about things– it would make such a difference, but now there’s no mother-and-baby group.’

My ears pricked up at this. How strange, it was exactly what the other two females had been complaining about. I jumped down off the bench and meowed loudly at Hayley, walking backwards and forwards and twitching my tail urgently at her. If we went back now, we might be in time.

‘What is it, Ollie?’ she said, watching me curiously but not moving an inch.

Oh, come on! I meowed impatiently, and finally she seemed to get the message.

‘You want me to come with you? Back to Sarah’s house perhaps? What a clever boy you are – you must have understood every word I was saying. It’d be lovely to see Sarah again, but I can’t keep depending on her. She’s got her own worries, and her children are older. I need…’

I was ignoring her now, running ahead of her down the street without even waiting for her to keep up with me. Yes! As I rounded the corner, I could see the other two women still standing outside the shop with their prams, still talking away like yappy dogs. I walked round them three times one way, and twice the other way, making them laugh and wonder aloud what I was playing at. And finally, Hayley came into view pushing her own pram, and the three women looked at each other and started to laugh as if they were already old friends.

‘Anyone would think Oliver brought me here deliberately to meet you,’ I heard Hayley exclaiming after they’d introduced themselves and done a bit ofGoo-goo-ing over each other’s prams. ‘Silly, I know – he’s notthat clever.’

Well, honestly. Sometimes we cats don’t get any credit for our intelligence. I left them to it, and went back to Sarah and Martin’s house, feeling worn out and ready for a nap. It had turned out to be a busy day of helping people, but there was only so much I could do, after all. I figured that if eight-and nine-year-old girls could come up with the idea of holding their meetings in each other’s homes, hopefully three fully grown females could work it out for themselves too.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The following day, Sarah came home from a shopping trip accompanied by yet another female. They were chatting as they went into the kitchen and started making coffee, and it sounded like, once again, it was the closing of the pub and the village hall they were worrying about.

‘Anyway, Anne,’ Sarah said as they came into the lounge, where I was enjoying a sunny spot on the windowsill watching the birds, ‘I’m glad I bumped into you this morning. I wanted to talk to you about Brownies.’

‘Yes, you see, that’s another thing,’ the other woman said. She looked slightly older than Sarah, with a cheerful-looking round face and a booming voice. ‘I’ve triedeverywhere to find a temporary venue for the meetings, but I’ve had no luck whatsoever. The school hall at Great Broomford is booked solidly every evening of the week for adult education classes, the folk dancing club and God knows what else. The community centre there is just the same, in fact they have a waiting list. And St Luke’s church halldid have a couple of slots free before the fire, but it seems the Scouts and the youth club have got in ahead of us.’

‘Oh. Well, at leastthey’re sorted, I suppose. And it’s probably easier for their age groups to get there, even if their parents don’t drive. A lot of them have bikes.’

‘That’s true. But, sadly, I’m sending a letter to all the Brownies’ parents, Sarah, explaining that unless anyone has any ideas for a venue, pack meetings are suspended indefinitely. It’s such a shame. Some of the girls will have grown out of Brownies by the time we can reopen.’

‘I have got onetiny little idea, though,’ Sarah said. ‘It’s come about because of Oliver, actually.’

They’d both been ignoring me completely up till now, but when Sarah pointed to me, Anne gave a little chuckle of surprise.

‘The pub cat? I didn’t realise he was staying with you.’

And Sarah had to explain all about my escape from the fire, and rescue from the tree, and then she described how the children and their friends wanted to study me for their Brownie badge and were going to meet at the house every week. I kept my ears pricked for any mention of foxes being invited.

‘That’s a nice idea,’ Anne said.

‘Well, at least it means their Six will still be having regular meetings. I can look up what they have to do for their badge, and give them some help, and when they’re ready perhaps you could come round and test them?’

‘Of course I will. In fact, as Brown Owl, I think I should pop round every couple of weeks to see how they’re getting on. It’ll be good to keep in touch with the Foxes, even if I don’t see the other children.’

There it was. Foxeswere coming! I gave a little mew of anxiety but neither of the women seemed to notice.

‘Well, this is what I was wondering, Anne,’ Sarah said excitedly. ‘I can’t offer to hold meetings for the rest of the pack here, obviously – we wouldn’t have the room. But if the Foxes meet here, couldn’t the parents of some of the other girls host their own Six meetings? It would be better than nothing, and it would give them all some continuity.’

‘That’s asplendid idea.’ Anne was on her feet now, looking like she wanted to jump up and down with excitement. ‘I’m sure Jessica’s mum would be happy to host the Badgers, and I’ll talk to Molly’s parents about having the Squirrels at their house. Leave it with me. Brilliant idea, Sarah. Have you ever thoughtabout becoming a Brownie leader?’

Sarah was laughing.‘Well, maybe I should consider it. But it was all thanks to Oliver, really.’

I couldn’t help feeling a surge of pleasure at this, although part of my brain was still struggling with the issue of the foxes. If badgers and squirrels were meeting at other humans’ houses, and owls seemed to be involved too, why did we have to be the ones gettingfoxes here, of all things? None of these were the type of animals who should be trusted indoors, but if there was any sign of a fox here, the children could studyhim for their badges. I’d be hiding next door. *

I decided to make it my routine to pop into the little house next door to see Nicky and Daniel most evenings. They seemed pleased to see me, but I felt sad that there was nothing I could do to help them with their worries. If they weren’t talking about how little money they had to last the month, they were worrying about Christmas. Nicky must have told Daniel now about her parents’ planned visit.

‘We’ll just have to explain to them about the pub,’ Daniel was saying when I visited that night. ‘Can’t they stay at the hotel in Great Broomford instead? Or one of the pubs there?’

‘They’re all fully booked for Christmas week already, even though it’s only the beginning of November. I’ve phoned around all of them. I suppose I’m just going to have to put them off, Dan, but it’s going to make things even worse between us. I don’t suppose they’ll understand – they never do.’

‘Well, to be honest, it’ll save us all the worry of buying a big turkey and presents for everyone.’

‘That’s not exactly how we should be thinking, is it?’ Nicky said, and I was surprised by how snappy she sounded. ‘It was going to be our first opportunity to try and show them they were wrong, about us getting together.’

‘Yes, well, we can’t very well invite them round here for a Christmas lunch of beans on toast, and presents from Poundland, and let them all sleep on the living room floor, can we? Face it, Nicky, you’re wasting your time trying to convince them we did the right thing. Having them stay at thepub wasn’t going to help. They’d still be able to see the state we’re in. We can’t even afford to put the heating on. I don’t know why you agreed to it in the first place.’

Nicky was sniffing and wiping her eyes. I jumped onto her lap to console her, and her tears dripped onto my head.

‘Sorry, baby,’ Daniel said after a few minutes. ‘I didn’t mean it. I just feel so frustrated about everything. I know it’s my fault. I need to get a better job.’

‘Well, maybe I should think about getting asecond job, doing some waitressing or something in the evenings. If it wasn’t for the fire at the pub, I could have asked there. But I can try in Great Broomford.’

‘No. It should beme doing an extra job, if either of us do. I’ll just have to look harder. Something will turn up,’ Daniel said. But he didn’t sound convinced. He just sounded tired, and fed up. *

Most of the people I met on my walks around the village seemed to know, by now, that I was staying with my two foster families since the fire. I recognised a lot of the regulars from the pub, and several of them would say hello to me and try to stroke me.

‘Same old Oliver,’ one of the domino men laughed with his friend, when I scampered away as soon as he bent down to pet me. ‘Friendly little cat, but timid as a mouse.’

Timid? Amouse? I quivered with indignation. I’d have him know that in some quarters I was known as a tiger! Feeling annoyed, I wandered a little further down one of the quiet side lanes, and sat on the wall of a little cottage similar to Daniel and Nicky’s, watching some starlings squabbling over a few bits of bread someone had dropped inthe front garden. One of them had his back to me and I thought what good fun it would be to creep up on him from behind and pounce. Perhaps if I caught one, I could take it home to Sarah as a thank you for looking after me. I climbed stealthily down from the wall, and lay flat in its shadow with myhead down and my rear end twitching in the time-honoured way, waiting for my moment. And just as none of the stupid birds were watching and I was about to go for it, the front door of the cottage was flung open, the whole flock of starlings flew, startled, up into the trees, and a very ancient-looking human female appeared on the doorstep, waving a wooden spoon and shouting at me.

‘Shoo! Go on, shoo, you horrible cat, leave the poor birds alone. I put that bread out for them. They’d starve in the winter if it wasn’t for me. Go on, get lost, you scabby old stray. I don’t want your smelly cat pee in my garden.’

Well! I’d never been so insulted in any of my nine lives. Scabby oldstray? I actually had to look around to see if she was talking to someone else. I could only assume the poor ancient creature had problems with her eyesight. How else could anyone mistake a fine, sleek, well-groomed and beautifully mannered cat such as myself, in peak condition and in the prime of my life, with ascabby old stray? It was so ridiculous it was laughable. I decided I should probably feel sorry for her, so rather than take offence and stalk off, I stayed where I was. Pretending I hadn’t even heard her nonsensical outburst, I occupied myself with having a good wash of my face to show the stupid starlings, chattering in the trees above me, that I hadn’t been the least bit bothered about catching any of them in the first place. I wasn’t worried about the woman, even when shestarted yelling again. After all, she looked far too old to come after me, let alone do me any damage.

Little kitten, I will never again make the mistake of underestimating an elderly human. I have no idea how she moved so fast. One minute she was on her doorstep, and the next, she was towering over me, her wooden spoon raised, threatening to knock me for six. All I could do was cower against the wall, spitting at her– she was blocking all my escape routes. Had I really survived the fire, and the fox, to say nothing of the terrible thing that happened when I was only a tiny kitten, just to end up being beaten to a pulp by an old woman with a spoon? I yowled out loud for help. Where were all my cat friends when I needed them?

And then, just as I thought I was done for, she stopped shouting and said:‘Just a minute. What’s that? A collar?’

‘Yes, a collar, you silly old woman,’ I meowed at her furiously in Cat. ‘I’m a proper, decent, clean-living pet, not a stray.’

Not that I’m prejudiced against strays, you understand. Most of them have fallen on hard times and deserve a bit of help. I was all too aware that I might have ended up in the same position myself, more than once now.

‘Let me have a look at that,’ she said, and before I could try to make a run for it, she’d grabbed hold of me in a most undignified way and held me aloft, ignoring my squawks of protest, while she peered at the writing on my identity disc. ‘Oliver, eh?’ she said. ‘Well, Oliver, I don’t know where you come from, but you can bugger off there now, and don’t come back. I don’t put bread out for the birds just for greedy spoilt moggies like you to come sniffing around.’

So first I was a scabby stray, and now I was a greedy spoilt moggy? I was almost too angry at the insults to be frightened of the rough way she was handling me. Just as I was trying to turn my head far enough to give her a nip with my teeth, so that she’d put me down, there was a shout from a house across the road.

‘Hey, Barbara! What are you doing with the pub cat?’

Another ancient human– a male version this time. Things were going from bad to worse. But at least this one recognised me.

‘Bugger off and mind your own business, Stan Middleton! I caught this damned moggy going after the birds in my garden. Or after the bread more likely, the greedy thing.’

As if I wanted her horrible stale bread, when I had Tesco value meaty chunks with tuna available to me back at my foster home.

‘Put him down, woman, before you hurt the poor little sod. He’s Oliver, George’s cat from the Forester’s Arms. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’s probably just lonely.’

‘Huh,’ the woman called Barbara said. ‘Lonely? He doesn’t know the meaning of the word. And nor do you, Stan, before you say anything. Off down the pub with your old cronies every lunchtime – I’ve seen you.’

‘Don’t talk stupid, woman. The pub’s burnt down now. I’m stuck at home all day every day just the same as you. If the hall hadn’t had to close as well, I might have even been reduced to joining that flipping pensioners’ club of yours, sitting there with you and all the other old women, nattering about your knitting and your TV soaps.’

‘TV soaps?’ she shrieked – and I finally managed to wriggle out of her arms and shoot off out of her reach. ‘I can’t even watch the damned soaps any more. My telly’s broken and my son-in-law’s too busy to come round and fix it, the selfish little bugger. I’ve a good mind to send back his Christmas present to the mail order people. I haven’t finished paying for it yet.’

‘Same as my selfish granddaughter – no time for us old people, that’s their trouble,’ I heard Stan saying as I slunk away. Neither of them seemed to be taking any notice of me anymore. ‘If you weren’t such a stubborn old woman I’d offer to come and look at your TV for you, but I don’t suppose you’ll let me inside your house. Still sulking about that shrub I trimmed for you, I suppose. Thought I was doing you a favour, but you can’t please some people.’

When I was at a safe distance I turned back to watch them. Stan, the old male, had crossed the road now and they were talking together by Barbara’s gate.

‘Fix TVs, can you? I don’t suppose you’re any good,’ she was saying. ‘Still, you’d better come in and have a try, otherwise I’ll never hear the end of it. I suppose you’ll be wanting a slice of my fruit cake in return. You needn’t think you’ll get it on one of my best plates. And take your shoes off before you walk on the carpet – I don’t know where you’ve been!’

I was feeling quite sorry for Stan. But, you know what? Even from that distance, I could see he was grinning all over his face as he followed her into her cottage. Sometimes, little kitten, even an experienced cat like myself can’t make head nor tail of human behaviour. I trotted home to Sarah’s house as fast as I could, spent a good long time licking my sore paws where the woman had held me in her grip, and then had a well-deserved sleep to get over the experience.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The next day was a Saturday. You’ll learn to tell the difference with these human-invented days, little kitten, when you’re a grown-up cat like me. Saturdays and Sundays are when the children don’t go to school and most of the adults don’t go to work, not to be confused with holidays and special days like Christmas and Easter. Yes, I know it’s very muddling but humans don’t seem to be able to manage like we do, with every day being whatever we want it to be. Anyway, on this particular Saturday, I was sitting on Sarah’s windowsill when I saw something coming along the road that made me sit up straight and meow with excitement. At first I thought I might be seeing things, but as it came closer and finally stopped outside the house, I knew I was right. It was the same big old blue car I’d known for nearly my whole life, and there, getting out of it, was my very own human, George.

I jumped down from the windowsill and rushed for the front door, walking round and round in frantic circles and meowing my head off. Sarah came out of the kitchen wiping her hands on a tea-towel, and the children came tumbling downstairs from playing in their bedroom.

‘What on earth’s all the fuss about, Ollie?’ Sarah said, as the children stood there giggling at my excitement. ‘Do you want to go out? What’s wrong with using the cat flap?’

And then the doorbell rang, and I almost climbed up the door, I was so beside myself.

‘Who can that be?’ Sarah said as she went to open it. And then: ‘Oh! Hello!’

I feel a little embarrassed now, telling you this, but the fact is, I went slightly loopy. I was so overcome with joy when George bent down to stroke me, I leapt straight into his arms, nearly knocking him over. I was climbing all round his neck, licking his face, purring fit to bust. I just couldn’t contain myself. Everyone was laughing, George included.

‘What a welcome,’ he said. ‘Whoa, calm down, boy, you’ll have me over.’

By now, Martin, who’d been outside in the shed doing what he described as hisSaturday pottering (I have no idea what it was, and I suspected Sarah didn’t either), had heard the commotion and come back indoors.

‘George!’ he said, trying to shake his hand, but having difficulty because I was clinging to him like a limpet. ‘Great to see you, mate. Are you back in the village?’

‘No, sadly not. Just visiting.’

‘Well, Ollie’s pleased to see you, at any rate. Stay and have some lunch with us if you’ve got time.’

‘Thanks, I will, if you’re sure.’

So we all went through to the kitchen, and George sat at the table with me on his lap, snuggling up to him and purring contentedly.

‘So how has he been?’ George asked, nodding down at me.

‘Brilliant,’ Sarah said at once. ‘We’ve loved having him here, haven’t we, children?’

‘Yes,’ they both chorused, and Rose added quietly, ‘I want to keep him forever.’

‘No, remember what I told you?’ Martin said gently. ‘Oliver is George’s cat, and he’s only staying with us until George can come back and look after him again.’

‘But that won’t be for quite a long time. And I’m sure he’ll still come and visit you, and play with you, when he’s back with me,’ George added.

‘Of course I will,’ I meowed, but needless to say, nobody understood me. Sometimes it’s very frustrating that humans don’t learn Cat. They think they’re so much cleverer than us, it wouldn’t hurt them to try.

Well, they sat around the table drinking tea and eating toasted sandwiches, and Sarah finally lured me off George’s lap by putting some bits of cheese down for me. Then afterwards the children went off to play but I stayed with the adults, wanting to enjoy every minute of George’s company before he went away again.

‘I’m so grateful to you for taking care of Oliver for me,’ he was saying to Sarah and Martin. ‘I couldn’t possibly have had him with me at my sister’s place, and besides, it’s better for him to be here in the village where he knows his way around.’

‘Of course it is. And he’s been no trouble at all,’ Sarah said. ‘But he’s not with us all the time. He goes next door to Nicky and Daniel a lot, too.’

‘So: tell me who I should make this cheque out to,’ George said, pulling his wallet out of his pocket. ‘I was going to post it, but I really wasn’t sure about the arrangements. Daniel told me on the phone the other day that you were buying all the cat food.’

‘Well, it’s probably fifty-fifty,’ Martin said, giving Sarah a quick glance. ‘Don’t worry about us, but I daresay he’s eating Nicky and Daniel out of house and home – you know what cats are like.’

I was a bit puzzled by this, as I knew perfectly well what the arrangement was, and so did Martin. He’d agreed that he and Sarah would be the ones feeding me. Although Nicky did occasionally give me a saucer of milk or a few scraps, I had a feeling Martin was just trying to be kind to them.

‘OK, look, I’ll make the cheque out to you, Martin, if you don’t mind, and leave you to divvy it up between you. And … jump down a minute, will you, Ollie? I’ve got a few things in the car to bring in.’

‘This is far too much,’ Martin was protesting, looking at the cheque.

‘No it’s not. It’s for the month, all right? I’ll try to get down here roughly once a month to settle up with you, or if it’s easier, I could just buy a month’s supply of food and bring it with me.’

‘No, look, there’s no need…’

‘But I thought a cheque might be better, so that if I can’t get down here, I can just post it.’

‘But, listen, George, I don’t want to be personal, but are you all right for money? I mean, with the pub being out of action?’

‘Oh yes, I’m fine, mate – don’t worry about me. The brewery’s looking after me. I’m only a tenant landlord, you know. Straight after the fire, when I told them I’d got to move to London for the duration of the rebuilding work, they found me a temporary job in a local pub close by, that’s just reopened after refurbishment. I’m doing shifts there at the moment, but luckily everywhere is busy, with Christmas coming up, so I should have full-time work soon. They’ve got the chef from the Forester’s a job too, in Great Broomford. I couldn’t do anything for the barmaids, unfortunately – they were just employed on a casual basis. But I’ve heard on the grapevine that they’ve both managed to get some work here and there in town.’

‘So, in some ways,’ Sarah said, ‘it’s fortunate that it’s the busy season.’

‘Yes.’ He frowned and sighed. ‘But not for the people here who had bookings for meals and parties in the Forester’s, and even rooms booked for family over Christmas.’

‘I know.’ Sarah looked sad too. ‘But it’s not your fault, George, and everyone will just have to make other arrangements, if they can. It’s not the end of the world, and the most important thing is that you weren’t hurt in the fire.’

‘Thanks to Ollie,’ George said, giving me another stroke now even though he’d made me get off his lap. ‘If he hadn’t woken me up, that night, I hate to think what would’ve happened.’

Everyone went quiet then, even me, not wanting to think about it. They’d been talking earlier about what might have started the fire, and apparently the ‘investigators’ – whoever they were – believed it was an electrical fault, something to do with some wiring. I didn’t know what that meant, but I was glad nobody thought it was George’s fault. Or mine.

George went out to the car, then, and came back carrying two big bags.

‘Just a little token of my thanks,’ he said, putting them on the table.

‘But you’ve given us the money, George,’ Sarah said, staring open-mouthed at the bags.

‘These are just some things for Ollie, and some little bits for the kids – so you can’t say no,’ he said with a smile. ‘Now, it’s been great seeing you, and thanks for the lunch, but I’m going to have to get back as I’m working tonight.’

‘Good to see you too, mate,’ Martin said, shaking his hand. ‘Thanks for the cheque – and for all this, but you didn’t have to.’

‘I miss my boy,’ George said by way of a reply. He picked me up and gave me another quick cuddle, and I purred into his ear, wishing frantically that he didn’t have to go. ‘I’ll see you again soon, Ollie. Be good. It’ll probably be nearly Christmas before I can get back again,’ he added to Sarah and Martin as he walked to the door.

I meowed to myself sadly for ages after he’d gone. But when Sarah started unpacking the bags, she found so many exciting things for me, I almost forgot to be upset. There was a new blanket – soft and fluffy with a pattern of paw prints all over it – a toy mouse stuffed with catnip, just the right size for throwing in the air and catching with my claws, some sparkly little balls to play with, a bag of my favourite cat-treats and, best of all, a little hammock made of furry material that hooked over a radiator, for me to lie in. Sarah was laughing as she watched Martin fix it over the radiator in the lounge.

‘Look at that, Ollie,’ she said. ‘What a lovely warm, cosy bed for you, for the winter.’

I jumped straight into it, turned around a couple of times (although there wasn’t much room and I nearly fell out on the first attempt), did a bit of scraping at the furry surface the way we cats like to, and finally snuggled down, purring myself to sleep as I thought fondly of George choosing my presents. I was beginning to realise what a lucky little cat I was, after all. *

When I woke up, there was another surprise. It was dark, the curtains had been drawn, the children must have gone to bed– and sitting on the sofa holding glasses of drink, like the ones people had in the pub, were Nicky and Daniel from next door. Normally I’d have had my dinner by now, and then gone in to see them, but I must have had a much deeper and longer nap than usual, in my new hammock.

‘It’s really nice of you both to ask us round,’ Nicky was saying.

‘Well,’ Sarah said, ‘we just thought that if you weren’t doing anything tonight, it’d make a change to get together for a chat. Would you like some crisps?’ She passed them a little bowl, and watching them crunching away, I realised how hungry I was. I jumped out of my hammock, yawning and stretching my legs.

‘Oh, look who’s finally woken up,’ Martin laughed. ‘I suppose you want some dinner, Ollie.’

Of course I did! I followed him out to the kitchen, purring with anticipation, and did a few circuits of the place where they normally put my dish, while I waited for him to open the tin. When I’d finally finished eating, been outside for a call of nature and then had a good wash, there seemed to be a serious conversation going on, back in the lounge.

‘We absolutely can’t accept it,’ Nicky was saying, looking a bit pink in the face. ‘We haven’t been feeding Ollie at all – only a spot of milk occasionally. It’s your money.’

‘Seriously, guys,’ Martin said, ‘George wanted you to have it. He wanted to show his appreciation toall of us for taking care of Ollie– making him comfortable and stopping him from being lonely. It’s not just about the food.’

‘Oh.’ Nicky gave Daniel an anxious look. ‘Well, I don’t know what to say. I mean, it’s very nice of him, but we love having Ollie popping in for visits anyway.’

‘If we accept the money,’ Daniel said firmly, ‘we’ll take over feeding him his evening meals. It’s not fair, otherwise.’

Martin shrugged.‘Shall we just say that whoever’s house he’s in at the time can feed him?’

I pricked up my ears. If I was a crafty cat, I could do well out of this. I could have dinner in one house, and then nip next door and get a second helping. But then I remembered how worried Daniel and Nicky were about money. No, that wouldn’t be right. Maybe I’d let them feed me occasionally, so they didn’t feel unhappy about George’s money, but I wasn’t going to take advantage, tempting though it was.

‘OK, we’ll stock up on cat food with the money,’ Nicky said.

‘Only a few tins,’ Sarah suggested with a smile. ‘We don’t want Ollie getting greedy and cadging extra meals, do we?’

They all laughed then, and I felt so embarrassed I had to turn away and pretend to wash my face again. How had they guessed what I’d been thinking?

‘George has been far too generous with his cheque,’ Martin said. ‘We won’t need all our share either, to say nothing of the presents.’

‘Oh yes, I noticed the new bed on the radiator,’ Nicky said.

‘He loves it already. It must be so warm and cosy for him. But there were presents for the children, too – books, and games, and jigsaws – they thought Christmas had come early! So you see, we’ve had more than our fair share of George’s gratitude.’ She smiled at Nicky and added quietly,‘Please don’t feel bad about accepting your share.’

That settled, the talk turned to Christmas.

‘To be honest,’ Nicky said, taking tiny sips of her drink, and finally putting the glass down as if she’d decided she didn’t like it, ‘I’m not looking forward to it.’

‘Oh, why not?’ Sarah asked.

Next thing I knew, the whole story was pouring out, about Nicky’s parents, and the arguments, and the Christmas visit that was supposed to be their opportunity to make up with them, until the fire in the pub put paid to their stay.

‘We’re going to have to cancel them,’ Daniel explained. ‘We haven’t got any room to put them up. Nicky’s two younger brothers would be coming too, as they’re only twelve and fourteen.’

I saw Sarah and Martin giving each other a look.

‘Well, there must be a way round it,’ Sarah said. ‘Let us have a think.’

‘I can’t seeany way, other than cancelling the visit. There’s nowhere else in the village they can stay, and everywhere in Great Broomford and the other villages is fully booked.’ Nicky shrugged. ‘Dan says it’s pointless having them come for Christmas anyway while we can’t afford any luxuries.’

‘It’s going to be a disappointing Christmas for a lot of people here,’ Martin said. ‘Nowhere to hold the pensioners’ party or the children’s parties. No Christmas nights out at the pub…’

‘Not even for poor Ollie,’ Sarah said, smiling at me. They all laughed then, and I was glad really, because the conversation had been getting a bit sad.

‘Actually it might not have been all fun and games for Ollie at the pub at Christmas time,’ Martin said. ‘It always got so busy, with a lot of people coming into the pub who didn’t know him, and didn’t realise he didn’t like being stroked or petted by strangers – especially strange men.’

‘He seems to have got used to both ofus now, though, doesn’t he,’ Daniel said.

‘Yes. We should be honoured.’

‘Do you know if there’s any reason for it? I mean, sometimes animals are scared of strangers if they’ve been ill-treated or something like that.’ Daniel was holding his hand out towards me as he spoke, and I walked towards him, purring, and let him stroke my head, to show him I trusted him now. ‘Has George had him ever since he was a kitten?’

‘Yes.’ Martin nodded. ‘But you’re right, he came with a history. George told me about it once. It’s very sad.’

When I realised he was going to tell the others about my horrible start in life, I decided it was time to go to bed. I didn’t want to hear it. It was bad enough having lived through it.

CHAPTER NINE

All right, little kitten– do I really have to call you Kitty? – yes, I suppose it’s about time I told you what happened to me. You have to understand, I don’t find it easy to talk about. But perhaps it’ll be good for you to realise that not all little kittens have a nice start in life, like you have, with a kindfamily and plenty to eat right from the start, to say nothing of having a wise older friend like me to look after you and teach you the ways of the world.

So, where do I start? With my earliest memories, I suppose. I vaguely remember being nursed by my mother, but it’s only a dim, distant recollection of warmth and softness and lovely milkiness, lost to me so soon after I was born. I was one of five kittens, and my brothers and sisters were the first things I saw when my eyes started to open. My eyesight wasn’t very good at first – yours will have been the same – but I was aware of the others as we all clambered over each other, competing for our mother’s milk. Our little ears didn’t work at first either, but gradually I became aware of the sound of my mother purring as she groomed us, and the funny little squeaks my siblings made. Obviously we were too young to have any idea where we were, but it was dry and warm, and our bed was on some kind of rough material. There was nobody else in my little world at that time – just my mother, my two sisters and two brothers.

Then everything went badly wrong. One day, soon after my ears and eyes had started to work properly, we were all startled by a sudden loud noise, and a gust of cold fresh air. My mother jumped up, trying to hide us all under her body as we kittens scrambled around on the bed in fright. We were only just beginning to learn to walk and, I have to say, I was the best at it. I’d managed to stray off the bedding once or twice, but my legs were wobbly and I couldn’t wait to get back to my mother’s warmth. Now, though, I was cowering under her tummy, shaking with fear.

‘What the hell?’ someone shouted, and there were heavy footsteps coming towards us. ‘Bloody cat – how did you get in here? Bloody shed’s been locked up for weeks. Drat, should have fixed that damned window, might have known all the pesky strays in the neighbourhood would get in. Get out of it – go on, clear off, you manky old thing.’

He was looming over us now. I could feel my siblings shaking as hard as I was. My mother was hissing and spitting, her whole body taut, her tail suddenly twice its normal size. You have to remember I’d never seen a human before, and I had no idea what they were. But this one was big, loud, and very angry, and my mother was making him even angrier.

‘Get off me, you vicious brute,’ he shouted at her as she dug her claws and her teeth into his huge hairy front paws. ‘Ouch! Right, that’s it – I’m gonna get you in this sack and…’ There was a pause. His horrible red face and bulging eyes had come suddenly into focus. ‘Blimey,’ he exclaimed. ‘Bloody kittens too.’

By now we were all squeaking and mewing in distress. Our mother was trying frantically to hide us, but he made a grab for us, one at a time, by our tails, our necks, whatever he could get hold of as we tried desperately to crawl out of his reach.

‘You horrible little vermin can go in the sack first,’ he said, and he pulled our bedding out from under us all, shook it so that it opened into a kind of big bag, and started dropping us in it, one by one. All the time our mother was shrieking at him and attacking him with her claws, until he threw her onto the floor and held her down with one of his huge great back paws. I was the last kitten to be dropped into the sack, and as he grabbed me by the neck I was just in time to see him kick my poor mother so hard, she wailed in pain and shot of the shed door. I can’t tell you how hard I cried as I fell down into the darkness of that sack and joined my siblings in a heap at the bottom.

‘Come back ’ere, you,’ the human was shouting after my mother. I heard him run out of the shed, still shouting, but he was soon back, muttering about catching her next time he saw her. ‘Meanwhile, let’s get rid of this bag of vermin,’ he said, and the next thing we knew, we were being lifted up in the air and swung along, falling over each other and squeaking with fear. *

I can see I’ve upset you already, little kitten, and you haven’t heard it all yet. Are you sure you want me to go on? I did warn you it wasn’t a nice story. You’re not going to have nightmares, are you? Look, I can promise you there’s a happy ending. If there wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here with you now, curled up nice and cosy on this cushion together with the sunshine coming through the window, would I? But yes, you’re quite right, that was the last time I ever saw my mother. Well, we all have to leave our mothers, as you know, but I was still too young, and of course, the circumstances weren’t exactly ideal. But since I’ve grown up, I’ve always told myself I’m glad she got away from that horrible man. I know she wouldn’t have left us if she’d had any choice in the matter.

Well, there we all were in that dark sack and, of course, I don’t actually know how long we were in it, or where we were taken, but when we felt ourselves being dumped on the ground, we all started crying as loudly as we could – which wasn’t very loud – to be let out. For a long, long time we heard nothing outside the sack apart from birds singing. We were all hungry, and thirsty, and beginning to get weak. I had an instinctive feeling that we needed to keep still to conserve our energy, but my two brothers didn’t seem to understand this, and kept jumping around, looking for a way out. There wasn’t one, of course – the sack was tied up at the top – and they were just making themselves more and more tired and thirsty. It was hard to breathe, and the two girl kittens were both starting to struggle. Eventually we did all have to lie down quietly because we were too weak to do anything else, even to cry.

We lay there for a long time, maybe hours, maybe days, listening to each other’s shallow breathing getting fainter. And then there was a sound outside – a loud sniffing sound – and the sack was being nudged backwards and forwards. By now I was almost too weak and sick to care what happened, but suddenly a new human voice was calling out:

‘What have you got there, Rupert? Leave it alone, boy. Here! Sit! Stay!’

And then there was light, so sudden and so bright, I had to close my eyes, only for them to fly open again with fright at the terrible noise that came next. Have you met any dogs yet, little kitten? Believe me, you need to give them a wide berth. Some of them are quite friendly to cats, others are complete psychopaths who would kill us as soon as look at us. But the main problem with them is, they’re loud and excitable. Their humans have to tie them onto long straps just to keep them under control, and if they’re unstrapped, they go berserk, running around in circles, shouting their heads off, chasing anything that moves, even though they never seem to catch anything. Well, this was my first introduction to a dog, and it was terrifying. The minute his human had opened our sack, this dog got his nose right inside it and let out a cacophony of horrendous shouting. The human was shouting too, telling him to shut up and sit down, and eventually the dog’s face was replaced in the opening of the sack by the human’s face. After my experience with the first human I’d ever met, you can imagine how I felt about seeing another one – and this one’s voice was just as loud as the first.

‘Kittens!’ he yelled, staring down at us. I tried to give a little cry of fear, but nothing would come out, and I wasn’t the only one – none of my siblings seemed to be able to raise a squeak, either. ‘Half dead by the look of ’em. Poor little beggars. Who the hell would dump a bag of kittens in the middle of a field like that? Criminal, that’s what it is. Well, I’d better take ’em somewhere, though I reckon it’s probably too late to save ’em. Come on, Rupert – let’s go, boy. Back to the car. You’ll have to have your walk later.’

With that, we were hoisted up in the air again and I was tumbling on top of my poor sisters and brothers, all of us too weak to care. I was barely conscious as I felt the sack being put down again. But a few minutes later, there was an even louder noise, if possible, than the din the dog was still making, and I lay there quaking and shivering, sure it must be the end of the world. I’ve since worked out that we were in a car, and the noise – I’ve heard it lots of times since, of course – was the car waking up. They roar at the top of their lungs at first, and then settle down to a kind of loud purr as they run along. It’s horrible being inside one, at the best of times – you can feel the vibrations of their tummies rumbling, and they make all sorts of horrible noises, stopping and starting and sometimes screeching. George plays music inside his car now if he has to take me out in it, and that helps a bit. But I shudder to think how scared I must have been back then, in the blackness of that sack, with no idea what was going on. It’s probably a good thing my memories of that part are quite dim now.

In fact I don’t remember anything else until I found myself being lifted out of the sack. I could hear the human who owned the dog, still talking, and another voice, higher and softer, but my brain couldn’t interpret what they were saying any more. As you know, we cats are born bilingual, able to understandHuman as well as Cat, but apparently no humans have ever realised this because, of course, we can’t speak it. Didn’t you know that, little kitten? Didn’t you ever wonder why they don’t get annoyed when we completely ignore them? They’ve come to expect it, so it can be quite useful – we cats don’t have to do as we’re told, like they expect dogs to.

But by now, I think my brain had almost given up working. I didn’t like the high-voiced human picking me up, but she was a lot gentler than the horrible man in the shed. Her voice was comforting compared with the loud booming of the male and the shouting of the dog that was still going on. She gently felt me all over, and the next thing I knew she was dripping milk into my mouth from a little tube. It was heaven. I gasped and almost choked on it, I was so desperate to drink. And then I must have fallen asleep. *

Well, the next thing I remember was waking up in a kind of cage, and I was all on my own. I tried to cry, and this time I managed a few pitiful little whimpers. The female human immediately came along and, to my relief, my brain was working again enough to understand her.

‘Ah, this one’s awake,’ she said. ‘Hello, little one. Are you feeling better?’ She opened the cage and picked me up again. I struggled a bit, but when I saw she had the little tube thing in her hand and was going to give me some more milk, I relaxed. ‘That’s it, puss,’ she purred atme gently. ‘Drink up, you need all the nourishment you can get. I think this one’s going to make it,’ she called to another female standing behind her. And then she laughed. ‘He’s looking for more. That’s a really good sign – he’s nuzzling me for more milk. I think we’ll have to call himOliver. The boy who asked for more!’

And they both laughed, and although I didn’t understand the joke, and although I was really too tired to care what they called me, I must admit I thought it was a very fine name. *

I must have spent a long while like that, drifting in and out of sleep, being fed milk whenever I woke up, gradually feeling stronger and eventually managing to get up on my little legs again. When I was finally able to scamper around like a proper kitten, I was allowed out of my cage for short periods to run up and down the room. I still had no idea where I was, but I knew I was being looked after. Several of my baby teeth had come through, and as well as the milk, I was being given tiny mouthfuls of meat to try now. Because I knew how it felt to be starving, I promised myself I’d never refuse anything I was offered.

Day by day, I felt myself growing bigger and fitter. Just as I was getting used to my new routine, I was moved to a different cage. This one was bigger, with room to run around and with my own comfy bed and toilet facilities. The female human had taught me to use a litter box. She’d looked very sad as she told me this was something my mother would have taught me if I hadn’t been separated from her. The thought of my mother made me cry, and then I started wondering about my brothers and sisters. I hadn’t seen them since I’d been taken out of the sack. I wished I could find them and play with them, but nobody ever mentioned them. I still don’t know, to this day, what happened to them. But … I think I can guess. I’m not even sure whether the thing about us having nine lives is true, anyway.

Ah, sorry, little kitten. Don’t cry. Come on, we’re just coming to the nice part of the story. It gets more cheerful now. I’ll cut to the end. One day, when I woke up in my little bed, there was a new, strange, male human looking at me through the bars of my cage.

‘Hello, little Oliver,’ he said. I instantly shrunk back against the edge of the bed, my fur standing on end, and gave a little growl. Male humans were bad news. To be fair, this one was keeping his voice quieter and softer than the others, and his face looked smiley, but how could I trust him?

‘Would you like me to get him out for you?’ my friend, the female, asked him.

‘Yes, please.’

‘He’s had a very traumatic start,’ she said quietly as she unlatched my cage. ‘Abandoned before he was weaned – probably at about three weeks or so. We didn’t expect him to make it, but he’s done really well and he’s ready for his first vaccinations now.’

I struggled as she picked me up. I didn’t want the male to get me.

‘It’s all right, Oliver,’ she said. ‘Don’t be frightened. He’s a bit nervous of new people,’ she explained. ‘We think he was probably mistreated before he was dumped.’

‘Poor little fellow,’ the new human said. ‘He’s such a beautiful little thing, too.’ He seemed so different from the other males, with their loud shouting, and especially that first one with his big rough paws. He gave me a little stroke and although I flinched a bit, it was actually quite nice. ‘Would you like to come and live with me, Oliver? I promise you’ll never be mistreated again. We’ll be best mates, you and me. We’re both lonely boys who need a pal, aren’t we?’

And despite myself, I found myself purring. It would take me a little while to trust him completely, and when he moved me to my new home he let me live quietly upstairs in his private rooms until I was brave enough to face the customers downstairs. But from our first day together, when he sat me carefully on his lap and told me how his own female had died and left him all alone in the world, and that he’d gone to the Cats’ Protection home to find himself someone to keep him company, I knew that what he said was right. We were best mates, destined to spend our lives together and look after each other.

That, little kitten, was how I met my George.

CHAPTER TEN

OK, well now that I’ve told you all about my poor sad kittenhood, is it all right with you if I get back to my story about last year? Otherwise we’re never going to get to the end of it.

As you’ve probably gathered, it was starting to be winter by now, and I was never a cat for spending a lot of time outside in the winter. I was lucky to have my two cosy foster homes to sleep in, although it has to be said that Nicky and Daniel’s cottage was a bit draughty and they didn’t turn the heating on very often. However, I must admit there were times, when Sarah was working on her computer in the study, and the children were at school, when I felt a little bored, and needed to stretch my legs. So I’d have a run down the road and round the corner into the main street, and if I couldn’t find Tabby and the others to play with, I’d usually run straight back again.

Of course, if there was a dim-witted pigeon or starling to chase while I was out, so much the better. I’m not a bad hunter, little kitten – I’m small and quick enough to take some of the dozy creatures by surprise. I’ll give you some lessons when you’re a bit bigger. Usually, back at the pub, if I made a kill I’d take it home and leave it by the back door for George. He didn’t seem to like having the gifts taken indoors, for some reason. But obviously, I didn’t realise other humans shared this dislike. So the first time I caught a sparrow for Sarah and Martin, I carried it straight through the cat flap into the house. Nobody was around to present it to, so I thought the best thing would be to leave it in the middle of the lounge, by the coffee table, so they couldn’t miss it when they came in. But if I was expecting praise for my hunting skill, I was in for a disappointment.

‘What the hell?’ Sarah said when she saw the decapitated sparrow on the carpet. ‘Oh, Ollie! How could you? Poor bird! And we donot want things like this brought indoors, thank you very much.’

I slunk away, feeling very confused and upset. Sarah had sounded cross with me– and yet she’d ended up sayingthank you very much, so I guessed she must have been pleased with the sparrow but, like George, would have preferred it left outside. And as forpoor bird– well, it had been a fair fight, and he’d lost. What was wrong with that? I ended up deciding my offering might have been too small. She’d been disappointed. Next time, I’d bring her a bigger bird, but leave it on the front doorstep. She’d like that, for sure. *

One day, when it wasn’t quite so cold, I was feeling more frisky and adventurous than usual. After setting off from the house, something made me keep on going – up to the top of the main street, where the road runs out of houses and pavements and starts to climb a steep hill. I’d never been up here before, so I slowed down to have a look and a sniff around. But apart from the occasional dollop of smelly horse poo (I’ve never understood why horses don’t clean up after themselves like we do), there wasn’t really much to see, until I rounded a bend, and there in front of me were a pair of enormous iron gates, with huge birds sitting on top of them. It took me a minute to realise the birds weren’t real. I peered through one of the holes that made up the pattern of the gates, and meowed to myself in surprise. There was a very, very long driveway, stretching away into the distance, and on either side of it were massive lawns of lovely grass, dotted with all sorts of shrubs and trees. Far off at the other end of the driveway was a big house, the biggest I’d ever seen. Feeling too curious to be scared, I squeezed through the gap in the gate and dashed across the lawn to the first little group of shrubs, where I lay quietly for a moment, hoping nobody had seen me. When you’re exploring somewhere new like this, little kitten, you have to remember there could be a resident cat who will make short work of seeing you off his territory – or even, worst case scenario, an unstrapped dog. However, everything seemed quiet in this huge garden, so I decided to make the most of it, and spent a pleasant afternoon chasing sparrows and blackbirds and stupid woodpigeons all over the lawns, ducking behind trees and jumping out at them, wriggling under bushes and generally having an exhilarating time. I’d intended picking off one of the blackbirds to take home, but eventually I was almost too worn out by all the exercise to walk back and, as you can probably imagine, I fell straight asleep as soon as I was through the cat flap.

The next day, I happened to run into Tabby and his latest female, Suki. I couldn’t wait to tell them about my new discovery.

‘You’re talking about the grounds of the Big House,’ Tabby said at once, looking shocked. ‘You can’t go in there.’

‘Why not?’ I said. ‘I did, and it was lovely. You should try it. We’d have a great time together in there. Is it somebody’s territory?’

‘Yes, but not a cat’s. It belongs to the worst-tempered human in the whole village. I should know. I got chased out of there by him once, and he was waving a stick at me like he wanted to hit me with it. I’ve never been back and as you know I’m a very brave cat, so it’s madness for a timid little thing like you to risk it.’

If he hadn’t said that thing about me beingtimid, I’d probably have taken his advice and never gone back there. But it was so embarrassing, being patronised like that in front of Suki. She’d been purring away, rubbing her face against Tabby’s and making flirty eyes at him, and when she deigned to give me a glance, it was so disdainful, I’m afraid I snapped:

‘Actually I’m not timid at all. I’ll have you know I’m famous in the village these days for being as brave as a tiger.’

Tabby laughed. I was beginning to wonder why I was friends with him. He didn’t behave like this when Suki wasn’t around.

‘Oh, really?’ he said. ‘What did you do? Catch a mouse?’

‘No!’ I retorted crossly. ‘I frightened off a male human, if you must know. A very aggressive one.’

‘Yeah? What was he – a little human kitten?’ Tabby said, making Suki laugh and rub herself even more amorously against him.

I’d had enough. I turned and stalked away from them, waving my tail crossly as I went. So what if itwas only a human kitten? I’d still been brave. I’d show that self-satisfied Tabby just how much braver I was than him – I’d go back to the Big House every day if I wanted to, and play there for as long as I liked. Huh! Timid, me? What did he know? *

Up to a point, it was true that I was becoming famous in the village, but not necessarily for being brave. Everyone was now aware of my situation, that I was temporarily homeless and in foster care, and when I trotted along the road there was always someone who’d stop, bend down and stroke my head, asking how I was and whether I was missing George. George was very popular with everyone in Little Broomford and I got the feeling they felt a kind of collective responsibility towards me, as their pub cat. This made me feel quite proud, and also helped me realise that most of these people who had tried to stroke and pet me when they came to the pub, and whose advances I’d been afraid of, were actually kind and gentle after all.

It was interesting to see how various people in the village were starting to get together in each other’s houses now that the pub and the hall weren’t available. That same day, after talking to Tabby and Suki, I was going home past the shop when I noticed two women with prams who were laughing and chatting together as they went up the path of the house next door. One was Hayley, who had the babycalled Jack. She caught sight of me and exclaimed to her friend:

‘Oh, look, it’s Oliver. Hello, Oliver!’

I went closer and did a circuit of her legs. There was a cold wind that day and I’d been in a hurry to get home to the warm, but I was so pleased to see the difference in Hayley, I didn’t like to rush off. Before, she’d been so quiet and sad, but now she was smiling and laughing out loud, and even little Jack in the pram sounded like he was making a happy gurgling noise instead of that pitiful mewing.

‘It’s because of Oliver that I’ve got some friends in the village now,’ she was telling the other female. ‘I’m sure he led me here deliberately one day when Louise was outside the shop, and left us to chat to each other. I know it sounds silly, but he seemed so anxious for me to walk this way…’ she said. She laughed, and shook her head. ‘Well, maybe I imagined it. But Louise was sorry too because of the mum-and-baby group not meeting, and we decided to start holding these afternoon get-togethers at each other’s houses. And now I’ve met you, and the others, and I can’t tell you how much difference it’s made, having friends to talk to about the sleepless nights and the crying and the nappies.’

‘Friends who understand,’ the other female said, smiling back at her. ‘We all need that. Well, Oliver, I’m very grateful to you too.’

And she gave me a little rub of my head and I went on my way, feeling happy and satisfied with myself. Perhaps I was getting a bittoo pleased with myself, with all this flattery from everyone. But you see, I kept remembering that sneering look on Tabby’s face and the haughty way Suki dismissed me, and I was determined that one daythey’d be jealous ofme. *

Of all my new friends in the village, it was Sarah’s family who were the most grateful to me, and I knew that was because of the change in little Rose. She was far more chatty and smiley these days, behaving like any human kitten should – running around the house, giggling at things with her sister, rushing home from the school bus excited about this or that. Apparently the young male called Michael Potts hadn’t said another single word to her about Sooty or the accident since I’d attacked him. I heard Grace say to her mother that some other boys from their class had seen the confrontation that day, and teased him afterwards about being frightened of a little ginger cat.

‘They said he was a coward because he only picked on little girls like Rose, and when a little cat hissed at him he ran away,’ she said. ‘He didn’t like being laughed at by his friends, so he stays away from Rose now and ignores me too.’

‘Good,’ Sarah said. ‘We have a lot to thank Ollie for, don’t we?’

‘Yes. And he’s going to help the Foxes tonight, too.’

Grace ran over to pick me up and give me a hug, but I was too alarmed by what she’d said, and I yowled and dug my claws into the cushion I was sitting on, refusing to be lifted.

‘What’s the matter, Ollie?’ she said, laughing at me. ‘Are you in a grumpy mood today?’

What could she expect, with all this talk about foxes? And, just as I’d feared, a bit later, when I’d been resting peacefully in my favourite chair, the doorbell rang and there was a shout from Grace:

‘That’ll be them. The Foxes!’

As you can imagine, I was instantly leaping out of the chair and making a dash for the cat flap.

‘No!’ Rose cried out, seeing me run past her. ‘Mummy, don’t let Ollie escape.’

I couldn’t believe it. The whole family seemed to be in on the plot to bring foxes into the house to eat me up – even Rose! Sarah rushed to lock the cat flap before I could get there, so I turned tail, thinking I could leg it out of the front door when they opened it to let the foxes in. But to my horror, Sarah then shut me in the kitchen, calling out to Grace:

‘OK, let them in now. I’ll keep Ollie in the kitchen until you’ve closed the front door and then he can come out.’

Meowing in distress, I crept under the kitchen table and tried to make myself as small as I could against the wall. I could hear children’s voices, but no foxes barking yet, although I knew they must be out there somewhere. After a few minutes Sarah came back in.

‘Oliver, what on earth’s the matter?’ she said, bending down and holding out her hand to me under the table. I was cowering on the floor, and low rumbling growls of fear were coming up out of my chest. ‘Come on, all the Foxes are here to see you.’

And before I could run again, she’d grabbed me in a paw-lock and carried me into the lounge. I closed my eyes and prepared to say goodbye to the world. How many lives was I down to, even if I believed in that piece of folklore? But all I heard was a chorus of children calling out to me:

‘Hello, Oliver!’ and ‘Oh, isn’t he lovely?’ and ‘Is he asleep?’

I opened one eye slowly, and then the other, and glanced round the room suspiciously. Where were the foxes? I decided to stay clinging onto Sarah until I knew.

The little girls were all laughing.

‘Is he scared of us?’ one asked.

‘He’s just a bit shy of strangers,’ Grace explained importantly. ‘He’ll be all right when he gets used to you. Just talk to him quietly but don’t rush him or try to stroke him straight away.’

One of the girls came a bit closer to me and bent down to look me in the eyes.

‘Hello, little shy Oliver-cat,’ she said softly. ‘I’m Alice.’

‘And I’m Olivia – my name’s like yours,’ said another. ‘I’m Evie.’

‘I’m Katie.’

All the children were eagerly introducing themselves, even the couple I’d already met when they came to play before. And then Grace added:

‘And we’reall the Foxes– the best Six in Broomford Brownies!’

I did think it was strange that these nice children would want to call themselves foxes. But perhaps that was why they all dressed in brown. And at least, now I knew it was onlythem and not real foxes coming to play, I could relax.

‘We’re going to study you, Oliver,’ Grace said. ‘And you can help us to be the first Six to get our “Friend to Animals” badges.’

‘AndI’m going to be helping you too, girls, with your work for the badge. I want to learn all about it because Brown Owl says I can start training to help lead the pack when the full meetings start again,’ said Sarah.

‘Oh, Mummy, that’s exciting,’ said Grace.

‘Yes. I’ve been looking for a new interest, something I can do to help the village community.’

‘And it’s all because of Ollie. We got the idea of meeting in each other’s houses because of him, didn’t we?’

‘Yes, he’s a very special cat,’ Sarah said, smiling at me. ‘Because of Ollie, it seems lots of people in the village are getting together now. Only this afternoon I heard one of the young mums, Hayley, saying some of the mother-and-baby group have started meeting in each other’s houses now. She seemed convinced Ollie had introduced her to two of the other ladies.’

And I purred with pride and happiness. But you know what I’ve heard some humans saying?Pride comes before a fall.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The following day, I overheard Sarah telling Martin she’d be going out for the day while the children were at school.

‘I’m going to start the Christmas shopping,’ she said.

‘What?’ Martin said. ‘It’s only the middle of November!’

‘I know, but Anne and I are going to have a day in town together and just make a start on it. We’ll have lunch out. It’ll give us a chance to have a good talk about Brownies, too.’

‘Fair enough. I suppose Christmas will come round quickly, like it always does.’

‘I know.’ Sarah was quiet for a minute. ‘I only wish it could be a happier time for our neighbours. Young Nicky isn’t even looking forward to it. I don’t suppose they’ll be buying presents.’

‘No. Daniel was telling me they still haven’t told her parents their visit’s off, either.’

Nicky and Daniel had been getting very chatty with Sarah and Martin. It was nice to see my two sets of carers becoming good friends.

‘I’ve been thinking about that,’ Sarah said. ‘Mart, couldn’t we offer to have Nicky’s family to stay here for a couple of nights?’

‘What, over Christmas?’ Martin said, frowning. ‘Won’t that be a bit much?’

‘I don’t see why. We haven’t got anyone coming this year, have we? They can spend the day with Nicky and Daniel and just come in here to sleep.’ She shrugged. ‘We could at least offer. I’d really like to help them out.’

‘OK, I guess it’d be a nice offer.’ He gave her a kiss and pulled on his jacket ready for work. ‘Let’s ask them round again this evening, and put it to them then.’ *

‘I’ll be out all day today, Ollie,’ Sarah said, as if I hadn’t already heard. ‘I’ll leave some dried food down for you in case you get hungry. I’ll be back in time for the children.’

I felt fed up and lonely after the door closed behind her. I wasn’t in the mood to see Tabby – he’d got really annoying ever since he’d been courting that Suki. I didn’t even feel like spending the day asleep. I jumped through the cat flap and wandered down the road, looking for something to do. It was a bright sunny day, but very cold, and I had to doa brisk little trot to keep warm. Before I knew it, I found myself heading up the hill towards the place Tabby had called the Big House. Despite my bravado when I’d been talking about it to Tabby, I hadn’t actually been back since my first visit, but now the memory of those huge grounds with all the bushes and trees to run and jump around was tempting me back. I bounded through the big iron gates and, keeping a watchful eye out for scary male humans waving sticks, trotted down the driveway and into a particularly exciting shrubbery where I had a lovely time investigating the scents, jumping over branches and disturbing a few dozy birds who were trying to shelter from the winter cold.

The trouble is, little kitten, playing on your own is never as much fun as it is when there’s another cat to run around with or a human to provide entertainment. Oh, I know it’s great when you’re little like you. You kittens can spend hours just chasing your own tails or jumping at your own shadow – I know, I’ve been young myself, don’t forget. But when you’re grown up, running around on your own can get a bit boring after a while. If Tabby was too much of a scaredy-cat and too busy showing off to his girlfriend to come with me, perhaps it wasn’t really worth going to the Big House any more. I decided to have one more look around before heading home.

This time, I ventured right up to the house, keeping to the long grass wherever possible in case the bad-tempered man came out. As I’ve already told you, the house was huge, with red brick walls and great big tall chimneys, the biggest I’ve ever seen. At the back of the house were lots of very tall windows with crisscross patterns on them. I was attracted to the biggest windows, which looked like they would open out onto the gardens in the nicer weather – because I could see the glow of a lamp in the room beyond, and the flickering of a fire, which reminded me of the nice cosy fire George used to make in the pub.

Another thing I’ve heard humans say, little kitten, which I could never understand but has always bothered me, isCuriosity killed the cat. I’d like to know which cat, and how did he get killed? But nobody has ever elaborated on it. Well, on this occasion I was feeling particularly curious – downright nosy might be nearer the truth – and I forgot about the possibility of it killing me. I sneaked right up close to those glass doorsand stared in. I’d half expected to see the angry man Tabby warned me about, and my little heart was racing with adrenaline as I prepared to do a runner as soon as I caught sight of him. But I was in a very daring mood as well as a nosy one, thinking about the story I’d have to tell Tabby and Suki next time I saw them. Luckily I couldn’t see any bad-tempered male in the room, just a female in a kind of white overall, sitting by the fire, holding a book. Her lips were moving, and when I pressed my ear against the glass I could hear her talking, as if she was reading out loud. She kept looking over to the other side of the fireplace and smiling. I turned to see what she was looking at, and at first all I could see was a pink blanket on a sofa. Then I noticed a pale, thin arm resting on the blanket. And as I watched, the blanket shifted slightly and a head popped out from the top of it. It looked like the head of a female, about Grace’s age or maybe a bit older, but the face was very pale, with dark rings under the eyes, and where the hair should have been, there was just a plain bare top of the head, like the heads of some of the older males who came to the pub. I felt myself squeaking in surprise, and I was about to run off, but the young female must have caught sight of me because she pulled herself further up out of the blanket and through the glass I heard her say:

‘Oh, look, Laura. A pretty cat!’

Well, I was never one to walk away from a compliment. I hesitated, still poised to run, my muscles quivering in anticipation of being chased off the premises. The one in the white overall put the book down, walked over to the window and looked straight at me. For a moment, our eyes were locked on each other, while I waited to be shooed away– but suddenly she smiled, bent down and actually spoke to me through the glass.

‘Hello, little cat. Well, yes, youare a pretty one, aren’t you? I wonder where you come from.’

‘He must be so cold out there,’ the one on the sofa said.

‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you? Well, he’s got a collar on, and he looks well fed so he must belong to someone in the village.’

‘He’s come to say hello. Can’t we let him come in and get warm by the fire?’

There was a moment of hesitation before the one called Laura replied.‘No, Caroline, I don’t think so. You know how your father feels about cats. And it wouldn’t be right, anyway – he’s got a home to go back to. His family might be missing him.’

‘Oh.’ The girl laid back down again, looking disappointed. She gave me a little wave. ‘Bye bye then, little cat. I wishI could have a cat, Laura.’

‘So do I, love. But your dad doesn’t like them, does he. Now then, let’s get back to this story, shall we?’

She went to sit back down again and picked up the book. I stayed for a little while longer, watching, and the girl with no hair gazed back at me as she listened to the story. But then I started to feel too cold, quite apart from having serious worries about the father-who-didn’t-like-cats (who, it didn’t take much intelligence to work out, was the same as the bad-tempered-man-with-a-stick), appearing around a corner of the building at any moment. I might have been feeling brave, and I’d definitely been feeling curious, but I didn’t want to be the cat who got killed for it. I scarpered. *

I might not have thought any more about it until the next time I saw Tabby. I’d already got my story all planned out for him, admittedly with a few exaggerations about my bravery. But that evening, Martin invited Nicky and Daniel in again for drinks, and I stayed in the lounge with them, dozing in my hammock on the radiator, listening to their conversation. They were all sounding happy – Sarah because she’d had a good day shopping and said she now hadthe Christmas spirit, whatever that was– and Nicky and Daniel because Martin had made them the offer of putting up Nicky’s family over Christmas.

‘We can’t let you do that,’ Daniel had said at once. ‘No way!’

‘Why not? We’ve got room,’ Sarah said, and Martin was smiling and nodding. ‘The two girls share a bedroom. We keep the third one as a guest room, and we’ve got nobody staying with us this Christmas.’

‘The boys could sleep in the little study,’ Martin suggested. ‘There’s an old sofa in there, and room for a camp bed. It’d be a bit cosy, but…’

‘But it’s too much to ask of you,’ Nicky said. She looked like she was going to cry.

‘You didn’t ask,’ Sarah pointed out. ‘We offered. Honestly, it’d be a pleasure.’

And eventually it was all agreed, and Martin poured out more drinks, and the talk turned to things going on in the village. Once again my heart swelled with pride as they related stories to each other about the meetings being arranged in the various villagers’ houses – all of which seemed to be attributed to me.

‘I’ve even heard talk in the shop,’ Sarah said, ‘that Barbara Griggs, the miserable old woman who lives in the cottage down Back Lane and shouts at everyone, has invited Stan Middleton from across the road to play rummy with her in the evenings since the pub closed, and they’ve been heardlaughing their heads off. And there are empty sherry bottles in the recycling every week.’

‘Yes, and apparently Stan’s joined the pensioners’ club, which he swore he’d never do, because they were allstupid old women talking about their knitting, and is letting some of them have their meetings in his house,’ Martin joined in. ‘And he says it’s all because he found Oliver being shooed out of Barbara’s garden.’

‘Good old Ollie,’ Daniel said, when they’d all stopped laughing.

‘It’s all very well, though,’ Martin said, suddenly sighing, ‘holding meetings and get-togethers in each other’s houses when it’s just a few people at a time. But what about all the Christmas parties coming up?’

‘They’ve all had to be cancelled,’ Sarah explained gloomily to the others. ‘My Women’s Institute one has already been called off. And the Brownies’ one of course. And the pensioners’. All of them.’

‘What a shame,’ said Nicky. ‘There isn’t anywhere else in the village big enough to hold them, I suppose.’

‘No.’ Sarah shrugged. ‘Well, there’s only one place of any size, of course – the Big House.’ And she laughed, and Martin joined in. ‘There’s no way anything festive is going to happenthere.’

‘What’s the Big House?’ Daniel asked.

As you can imagine, I was wide awake by now, listening with great interest.

‘Broomford Hall. It’s just outside the village, going up the hill towards Great Broomford. Used to be the manor house. The last owner was a kind old chap who used to let us hold the summer fair in the grounds. But the new owner…’ Sarah smiled and shrugged again.

‘Is a downright miserable git,’ Martin finished for her. ‘He’s a widower, apparently, and lives up there all on his own. Doesn’t often come into the village, but when he does, he’s got a face like thunder and not agood morning for anyone. Nobody’s ever seen him smile.’

‘Oh. Well,that’s not a possibility then, is it?’ Nicky said. ‘He doesn’t exactly sound like someone who’d be prepared to hold any Christmas parties.’

‘No.’ Sarah shook her head sadly. ‘We’re all just going to have to go without our Christmas festivities this year, unfortunately.’

I couldn’t help meowing in sympathy, she sounded so gloomy. They all turned to look at me, laughing again.

‘And evenyou can’t help out with this one, Ollie,’ Sarah said.

As I said, I was probably getting a bit too puffed up with pride for my own good. I had this reputation now, it seemed, of being the Cat Who Got People Together. And I felt like I’d been given a challenge. Could I do it? Could I actually become the Cat Who Saved Christmas? I didn’t know how, but I was determined to give it a go.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Although Martin kept complaining that it was only November and‘ages’ till Christmas, it seemed like everyone had started talking about it now. The children were getting excited about things like Christmas plays that were going to happen at school and apparently involved them dressing up as shepherds and angels, and Sarah having to make strange costumes out of sheets. Every time they got silly and rowdy, they were warned that Father Christmas wouldn’t come unless they behaved themselves. I’d actually heard Grace and Rose whispering together about not believing in this Father Christmas person anyway, so I wasn’t sure why they pretended they did.Perhaps it’s a bit like us with the Nine Lives story. A legend – part of their culture. I could understand that. Anyway, they still seemed to be excited about him coming, whether they believed in him or not.

All the talk of Christmas was making me feel homesick. When I lived in the pub, Christmas was such a lovely time. George put lots of decorations up, with holly and other greenery all around the fireplace, and a really big Christmas tree in the corner, weighed down with shiny baubles and tinsel and sparkling lights. I can see what you’re thinking, little kitten. A tree, indoors – yes, it’s what everyone does at Christmas. I keep forgetting next Christmas will be your first time. Well, take a hint from me. When your humans bring the tree indoors, they’re going to tell you not to touch it. But then they’ll hang all the sparkly things on it, putting temptation right in your way. If they don’t want these things played with, they shouldn’t hang them there. Believe me, it’s almost impossible to resist the urge to jump up and swat those sparkly baubles with our paws. I almost brought the whole tree crashing down when I was a little kitten like you, on my first Christmas. It frightened the life out of me and, after that, George hung the sparkly things higher up on the tree so I couldn’t reach them. I still tried, though. Some things just can’t be resisted.

It was so pretty and cosy in the pub in the evenings, with all the lights, and the flickering of the fire, and although it was true there were a lot more strange people in the bar, which made me a bit nervous, they were all usually in really happy moods. George used to say it was his favourite time of year. And now I couldn’t stop thinking about him, living somewhere far away with his sister and her cat allergy andwithout me. It made me mew sadly to myself as I lay in my chair or on Rose’s bed snuggled up with her teddies, and sometimes the girls would stroke me and wonder why I didn’t seem very happy, and I wished I could explain.

To take my mind off it all, that week I went every day on my little jaunts to the Big House. I didn’t waste time playing in the bushes anymore, or at least, not for more than a few minutes. I ran straight up to the big windows where I’d seen the girl and the woman before. Sometimes they were there again, and the girl called Caroline would call out hello to me and watch me with that sad little smile. Once or twice, there was nobody in the room so I guessed they must be somewhere else in the house. It was so big, they could have been anywhere. One day I got even braver and trotted round the side of the house and all the way to another big door, with steps going up to it. From the top of the steps I could jump onto a wide windowsill and see into another room. It was a huge room, bigger than the bar in the pub, and it was almost completely empty. I couldn’t help wondering what on earth it was for, and why anyone would want a room of that size, especially if they didn’t have any furniture to put in it. Humans never fail to surprise me. And then I remembered that conversation about the Big House being the only place large enough to hold a party. It was true. Everyone in the village could probably fit in that one huge room.

I didn’t hang around. I was always nervous that the angry man who didn’t like cats – or humans, by the sound of it – would turn up and catch me. I couldn’t understand why Martin had said he lived there on his own. If that was the case, why were the girl and the woman there? Perhaps they were trespassing, like me, and perhaps I should stay well clear of the whole situation. But something made me go back again the next day anyway. *

Sarah seemed to be very busy these days. She was always in the kitchen, making things that smelt lovely and spicy and putting them in the freezer.

‘More mince pies for Christmas, Ollie,’ she’d say as another batch went in. ‘It might still be a long way off, but I’ve got so much baking to do, I need to get ahead of myself.’ I wondered whether she was expecting to feed the whole village rather than just her little family.

‘I’ll be hosting a little Christmas lunch for the WI,’ she explained one evening to Nicky. ‘There’s obviously not going to be a formal party this year, so we’ll just meet here for sausage rolls and mince pies, and people will bring their own drink. It’ll be crowded, but who cares? Whydon’t you come and join us? It’ll be on a Saturday.’

‘Oh, but I’m not a member,’ Nicky protested.

‘Well, I was actually going to suggest you might like to join. It’s not like you would imagine. We do lots of interesting stuff, and there are several younger women like yourself. It would help you make friends in the village. I know it’s hard when you’re at work in the city all week.’

‘Oh!’ Nicky said again, and she laughed. ‘You must have known what I’ve been thinking. I sometimes wonder whether Dan and I will ever fit in here.’

‘Of course you will. Everyone’s very friendly. Well, most people are. But you haven’t been here long, and you’ve got no free time to mix with people, have you? The WI meetings are usually on Tuesday evenings, and of course as you know, while we can’t use the hall, we’re meeting in each other’s homes. Why don’t you come with me one week and see what you think?’

‘Thanks, Sarah. Perhaps I will.’ She still sounded a little doubtful. ‘Although I keep saying I’m going to look for an evening job,’ she suddenly blurted out. ‘Something temporary. Bar work, or waitressing. But to be honest, I’m always too tired when I get home from work.’

‘And I keep saying I don’t want you to do that, anyway,’ Daniel said, sounding upset. ‘Neither of us should be talking aboutsecond jobs.I’m looking for abetter-paid job, so that we don’t have to.’

There was a silence then, which made the whole room suddenly feel very uncomfortable. Sarah and Martin were fidgeting in their chairs, looking into their drinks, doing little coughing noises.

‘What kind of work are you in, Dan?’ Martin asked eventually.

‘I just work in a shop,’ he replied, staring at the floor.

I wondered why he sounded so sorry about it. I’d have thought it’d be great fun to work in a shop.

‘It’s not just any old shop, it’s one of the big stores in the West End,’ Nicky protested. ‘But they pay their staff peanuts.’

That sounded quite fun, too. Not that I liked peanuts myself, but I’d seen Daniel enjoying them, so I wasn’t sure what the problem was.

‘It’s not exactly my dream job,’ Daniel said with a sigh. ‘I always wanted to be a car mechanic.’

‘Really?’ Martin was looking interested. ‘Did you train to do that?’

‘Kind-of. My dad taught me. We both just liked tinkering around with cars, you know? It was a hobby. We used to fix a few neighbours’ cars, and Dad used to say that when I left school he’d set me up in business doing it. So I never bothered with my exams – I was always so sure it was what Iwas going to do.’ He fell silent.

‘What happened?’ Sarah asked gently.

‘Daniel’s dad had a heart attack, and sadly he didn’t survive,’ Nicky answered for him. ‘Dan had to get a job – any job – to help his mum.’

‘Then Mum got a new boyfriend.’ Daniel picked up the story. ‘And … well, she didn’t need me anymore. They actually moved to Spain in the end and I hardly ever hear from them. And of course, I met Nicky.’ He gave her a little smile.

‘So it’s my fault, really,’ Nicky said, smiling with her face but not with her voice. ‘He’s never been able to stop working at the shop and start doing what he really wants to, because first of all we lived with my parents but, well, it didn’t work out. And now…’

‘The cottage next door was the cheapest place we could find to rent anywhere.’ Daniel shrugged. ‘But it’s so far to commute to both our jobs – we just didn’t think it through properly. After the rent, nearly all our money goes on the train fares. Nicky had only just finished college when we got together. Her parents warned us we were rushing things. We should have listened.’

‘But you wanted to be together,’ Sarah said softly. Her eyes looked all wet. ‘Of course you did. And I’m sure things will get easier in time.’

‘Maybe,’ Nicky said, not sounding convinced.

She looked at Daniel, and Daniel looked back at her. There was another one of those silences. I could tell there was something somebody wasn’t saying. We cats are good at picking up these things.

‘The thing is,’ Daniel suddenly blurted out. ‘It’s going to be even harder now.’

‘We weren’t going to tell anyone yet, Dan,’ Nicky said, looking worried. ‘Not till we’d told my parents.’

‘I know. But what difference does it make? They’re going to be livid. They’llnever help us out now. They’ll blame me, and say we’re both stupid, and we should have been more careful. And they’ll be right, won’t they, let’s face it.’

Nicky was crying now. I leapt up onto her lap, purring at her, and she gave me little quick strokes like she didn’t even know she was doing it.

‘I’m pregnant,’ she told Sarah and Martin, in a little quiet voice. ‘Three months, now. We didn’t mean for it to happen, obviously. I put off getting a test to confirm it, for as long as I could – I kept hoping it was a false alarm. Not that we didn’t want children. I love children, Iwork with them. We wanted them, but not for ages yet. We wanted to get married first, and now we’ll never be able to affordthat.’ She sighed and wiped her eyes. ‘We just seem to get ourselves into one mess after another.’

‘Oh, Nicky.’ Sarah got up and came over to put her arms around her. I felt like I was in the way, so I jumped down and went to console Daniel instead, rubbing myself against his legs, but he looked too unhappy to care. ‘I must admit I did wonder, when you’ve kept refusing the wine and drinking orange juice. If there’s anything we can do to help…’

‘Thank you. But there isn’t, really. We’ll just have to get on with it, won’t we? I’ll work right up till the last minute, and go back again as soon as I’ve had my statutory maternity leave. At least I can take the baby with me to work!’ she added with a little snort of a laugh.

‘Oh yes, you work in a nursery, don’t you,’ Sarah said. ‘Can’t you find a job in one that’s closer to home?’

‘Not paying as much as mine does.’

‘It’s a really posh place,’ Daniel said, giving Nicky a proud look. ‘All the rich London people send their kids there. Nicky was the highest-placed student of her year on the childcare course, with distinctions in everything. So she had her pick of the best jobs.’

‘Oh, clever you, Nicky.’ Sarah was looking thoughtful. ‘But, of course, it means paying those train fares.’

‘Yes. I know. It’s swings and roundabouts, I suppose. On the other hand, if we moved back to London, and rented a flat there, even with those astronomical rents, we might still be no worse off, with only a short bus or tube ride to work.’

‘I’d like our child to grow up here, in the countryside, though, Nick,’ Daniel said, looking kind of wistful.

‘So would I, Dan. But we might not have the luxury of that option,’ she snapped.

The evening seemed to have come to an unhappy ending. I gave up trying to comfort them all and went off to my bed in the kitchen.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

So they’ve finally decided on a name for you. They took their time, didn’t they? Well, fair enough, I know it’s an important decision and I agree, you wouldn’t want to be lumbered with something embarrassing likeTiddles for instance, just because they rushed into it. So you’re going to beCharlie. Yes, it’s good, I like it. It doesn’t quite have the class ofOliver, but it’s got a certain ring to it and at least it sounds a lot more masculine thanKitty. And they’re getting you an engraved identity disc like mine? Good. Take it from one who knows – even if you’re not going to be a wanderer, you never know when events might overtake you and you might end up getting lost in a wood, like I did. No, don’t worry. I’m sure that won’t happen to you.

So, Charlie, you want to hear some more of my story, do you? I must say I’m quite gratified by how much of an impression it’s making on you. I’m sure you’ll be learning a few lessons from my experiences. But I should remind you that I learnt quite an important lesson myself because of all this. I learnt that it’s not a good idea to be too proud of your achievements. No cat is invincible. We just end up making fools of ourselves if we think we are.

My problem, as I’ve already mentioned, was that I was getting a bit too carried away with all the praise from the villagers. It was such a nice feeling, to think that I’d personally helped everyone get together with new friends and meet up with their old ones. They were all talking about what a friendly place the village had become since the disaster of the fire. Sarah seemed to be one of the brains behind all the new arrangements, alongside myself of course.

‘We need to make more use of the notice board,’ she said one evening while the family were having their dinner.

‘Notice board?’ Martin said, looking blank.

‘Yes, the one outside the village hall. It’s survived the fire, hasn’t it, but nobody seems to have used it since.’

‘Well, no, because none of the groups and clubs that met there are meeting now, so they’ve got no announcements to make.’

‘Of course they have!’ she interrupted. ‘Weall have. We’ve all been phoning each other, dropping notes through everyone’s doors, emailing people, about whose house we’re meeting in each week – when all we needed to do was agree a schedule of dates and venues and put it on the board.’

‘Put like that, it sounds obvious,’ Martin admitted. ‘But these things always need someone to organise them.’

‘Well done for volunteering, Mart,’ she said, laughing, and then, because he looked so taken aback, she added, ‘you can organise the dominoes players at least, can’t you? I’ll get a rota done for the WI, and help Anne sort out the Brownies. Hopefully other people will soon get the message.’

Apparently they did, because within just a couple of days Sarah was saying the pensioners’ club and the mum-and-baby group had both put up lists on the board.

‘And there are a couple of other notices,’ she added. ‘It’s like everybody had forgotten about the notice board and now they’re all starting to use it again.’

‘Good for you, then, love. It’s a lot easier than phoning around, isn’t it, and not everyone’s on email. What are the other notices about?’

‘Oh, there’s one from Kay – you know, the woman who used to run the nursery? Up till now she’s managed to keep going, with as many of the children as possible, running it from her own home in Great Broomford. It’s obviously been difficult, though, and two of her staff have found other jobs. So she’s closing after Christmas. She says she’s really sorry to let people down but she simply can’t carry on running it from home for the length of time we’re going to be without the hall.’

‘What’s she doing, then? Will she start up somewhere else? Only I’m just thinking, if she’s going to need new staff…’

‘I know what you’re thinking.’ Sarah smiled. ‘Nicky next door. But you know what she said – she can’t earn the money she needs, locally. Anyway no, sadly Kay’s decided to call it a day and retire. She’s in her fifties and she’s got a grandchild of her own, now, apparently, and another on the way. So she wants more time for herself and her own family.’

‘Fair enough. Can’t blame her. But what about the parents who used the nursery for their kids? There isn’t another one anywhere around here, is there?’

‘No. And even further afield, they’ll all have waiting lists, you can bet your life. I don’t know what they’ll all do, Martin. It’s so difficult for people, isn’t it, when they both have to work. It was only a small nursery, but nearly all the working parents in the village used it, even if only for one or two days a week.’

Another day, another problem for Little Broomford. I didn’t like to hear about all these people struggling with the details of their lives. It’s strange how humans have so many worries and problems in their lives, little kit—sorry, I mean Charlie – when all we cats have to worry about is getting enough to eat and avoiding horrible things like foxes and unstrapped dogs. If they’re so much cleverer than us, you’d think they’d have made their lives easier for themselves rather than harder, wouldn’t you. *

Although I’d heard my human friends talking about the old female called Barbara who half-murdered me when I chased the birds in her garden, I hadn’t been anywhere near her cottage again since that day. But every time her name came up, it seemed to provoke lots of smiles and chuckles, and I gathered she’d had some kind of personality change and was being nicer to everyone. Hard though it was to believe, considering how she spoke to me, to say nothing of picking me up by my neck and threatening me with her spoon, I decided I’d pluck up my courage again, and go to see this transformation for myself.

There was a cold wind blowing again that day. Every now and then the wind blew the dry brown leaves that had fallen off the trees earlier on, up into the air, whirling them around like miniature snowstorms. It made me feel kind of skittish and scampery, and I bounded down the road they call Back Lane and took a running jump up onto Barbara’s wall. I could see straight into her front room, and to my amazement, there she was, looking just the same as before with her grey hair piled up on top of her head and her glasses halfway down her nose, but this time she had her mouth turned up in a huge smile. In fact as I watched her, she threw back her head, opened her mouth wide, and I could actually hear her laughing from where I was. Sitting next to her on the sofa, all comfy, with his arm resting along the back of the sofa so that he was almost, but not quite, cuddling her, was the old male from over the road, the one they’d called Stan.

Well, I decided to bereally brave and get a closer look. The windowsill was just about wide enough to sit on, so after a moment poised on the wall, judging the distance, twitching and preparing my muscles for the jump, the way we do, I leapt neatly across the tiny garden and made a good safe landing. From this new vantage point, I could see that the television was on, and both the old humans had their back paws up on the same stool, and a bright red woolly blanket draped over their legs. There was a bottle open on the little table next to Stan, and they both had glasses in their front paws. As I watched them, they sipped from their drinks and turned to smile at each other.

‘It’s that cat again!’ the female suddenly shrieked, pointing at me through the window. It gave me such a fright, I overbalanced and fell right off the windowsill, which was particularly embarrassing as there was a robin watching from the flowerbed, who was no doubt going to go home and tell his entire family about it. I got straight up onto my paws, of course, and started washing myself frantically to show I didn’t care. I kept one eye on the front door, half expecting the old woman to come stamping out waving her spoon again, despite her new cosy smiley appearance. But instead, I gradually became aware of the sound of laughter. Not just the quiet chuckling kind of laughing humans do over some of their television programmes, but absolute roars of high-pitched laughter, louder than shouting. It was both of the old humans laughing out loud together. I stopped washing in surprise,listening to the din. And when it eventually died away, I could hear them muttering together, like they were almost too worn out to talk.

‘… watching us cuddling up on the sofa…’

‘… probably wanted a glass of our sherry…’

‘… no, probably wanted to get under the blanket with us…’

‘… you scared him half to death, poor little bugger…’

‘… fell off the bloody windowsill!’

At which, to my intense annoyance, they both began to howl with laughter again. I couldn’t imagine what was particularly hilarious about seeing a cat fall off a windowsill. Admittedly I wouldn’t have expected any better from the robin, but any decent, caring human would surely have come rushing outside to make sure I wasn’t hurt, wouldn’t you think?

But as I set off home in a huff, I must say I gradually started to see the funny side of it myself. And to be honest, it could only be good news for me that the old Barbara female seemed to have developed a sense of humour. *

‘It turns out there’s now another use for the notice board,’ Sarah told Martin the following day.

‘Really? You were right, then – it just took one person to start using it again, and within days everyone’s caught on! So what’s gone on there now?’

‘A suggestion from one of the mums whose child has been going to the nursery. She’s said that as most of them only work part-time, and only use the nursery two or three days a week, perhaps they could try to pair up to look after each other’s children on the days they don’t work.’

‘Sounds like a sensible idea.’ Martin thought about it for a moment, then added, ‘But again, it sounds like it’d be an organisational nightmare. Some probably work Mondays and Wednesdays, others Tuesdays and Fridays and so on. They might not get it to fit.’

‘I know. But this mum has started a list of names, and asked others who like the idea to write the days they work and the days they’d be available to look after someone’s child. At least it’s a start, even if it’s only a temporary measure.’

‘Yes. Good for her. Hope it works. They could all save the nursery fees, too, that way.’

‘Exactly. Very enterprising.’ She smiled. ‘Our villagers have really been working together since the fire, haven’t they? If only we could find a way to reinstate our Christmas parties, a lot of the problems might be ironed out before Christmas.’

‘Not for Nicky and Daniel, unfortunately.’

‘No.’ Sarah was stroking me, absent-mindedly, as she spoke. ‘That’s another situation evenyou can’t solve, Ollie.’

Oh boy. Another challenge. I hadn’t even got any further with working out how to save the parties yet. I was going to have my work cut out if I was going to be the Cat Who Saved Christmas. I’d better catch up on my sleep while I had the chance.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

With all the humans so busy and caught up in their own worries and plans for Christmas, and making rotas and notices for their meetings, and Tabby being such a pain showing off to his girlfriend, I just carried on with my solitary visits to the Big House. For a couple more days I sat outside the big windows and talked to the girl called Caroline through the glass. I knew instinctively that there was something wrong, because she didn’t run around and play like Grace and Rose. She was as quiet as Rose used to be when I first met her, but there wasn’t any sign of a damaged paw to explain it. I knew she was always pleased to see me, and the woman called Laura seemed pleased too because it was cheering Caroline up.

‘I wish we could let him in,’ Caroline would say, but Laura shook her head and reminded her that her father would be cross.

I still hadn’t seen any sign of the father, despite Martin and Sarah saying he was the only person who lived there. Obviously they didn’t know as much as I did about who lived where in the village. Or perhaps the father was just a made-up person, like this Father Christmas they all talked about.

And then came the day when it was so cold my fur was almost growing icicles. As I stood outside the glass doors meowing to Caroline, something very unusual happened. Laura went out of the room, and for a few minutes Caroline stayed where she was on the sofa, watching me. Then suddenly she pushed her blanket off and got up. Very slowly and unsteadily, holding onto the furniture, she made her way over to the big doors, turned a key and opened one of them– just wide enough for a little cat like me to squeeze through. All this time she was looking over her shoulder, making sure Laura wasn’t coming back. Well, I have to admit I hesitated for a moment. Wouldn’t anyone, in the circumstances? But I was so cold, and the fire in that room looked lovely and warm, and Caroline was whispering urgently to me:

‘Come on, little cat, quick! Come in while she’s not looking.’

And I did. I ran in as fast as my little legs would carry me, dived onto that sofa and huddled under the pink blanket. Despite the fact that my heart was pounding with anxiety, I couldn’t help purring at the same time because the blanket was so soft and warm. Caroline took longer to return to the sofa herself. She was breathing hard as if she’d been chasing birds round the garden for hours, and when she sat down and pulled the blanket back over her, I climbed onto her legs and I could feel them trembling. I found her hand and gave it a little lick, and she giggled.

‘What are you laughing about?’ Laura said as she came back into the room.

I stopped licking, my ears up, on full alert. Was I about to be thrown out?

‘Nothing,’ Caroline said, giving another little giggle.

‘Well, it’s good to see you happy. I know you’ve been bored, but perhaps later this week I’ll start putting up the Christmas decorations, and you can watch me.’ She stopped, then asked sharply, ‘What’s that noise?’

Oh dear. I’d started purring again without even realising it. It was hard not to, the warmth and comfort was so lovely after being outside in that icy cold.

‘Just my tummy rumbling. Sorry,’ Caroline said, giggling again.

‘Are you hungry? Well, that’s a good sign. Shall I just finish reading you this story, and then get you some soup?’

‘Yes please.’

There was a rustle of pages, and Laura started to read. It was a story about some Dalmatian puppies. It was quite exciting and I was just starting to get into it when she suddenly broke off and said,‘The little cat went away again, then?’

‘Yes,’ Caroline said, giving me a little nudge with her arm. I snuggled up closer to her and licked her hand again, and I could feel her trying not to laugh.

‘What are you grinning about now?’ Laura said, with a smile in her voice.

And then I made my big mistake. I was so enjoying my cuddle with Caroline, I climbed right on top of her tummy and started doing the turning-around-and-pawing thing. And I was purring again. I knew it, I just couldn’t help it.

‘What’s that?’ Laura said more sharply.

And of course, the next thing I knew, the blanket was being pulled off us both and Caroline was saying,‘Sorry, Laura. He just looked so cold, and he’s so cute.’

Needless to say, I’d jumped off the sofa as soon as I felt the blanket being lifted. I ran to the big window and stood by it, yowling my head off. If there’d been another door open, I’d have run out of it by now, without even thinking about where I might end up. I think I’d even have run up the chimney if there wasn’t a fire in the grate.

But suddenly, in between my frantic yells of fear, I realised I could hear Laura laughing.

‘All right, all right, little cat,’ she said, coming over to me and bending down. ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’ She gave me a stroke and looked at the disc on my collar. ‘Oliver,’ she said. ‘What a nice name.’

I stopped yelling and glanced over at Caroline. She was smiling back at us.

‘I thought you’d be cross,’ she said to Laura.

‘And I certainly should be. But between you and me, I can’t see the harm in it. He’s a lovely friendly little thing. He obviously likes you, doesn’t he – coming back every day like this. Well, you’d better not breathe a word of this to your father, all right? Or I’ll be in big trouble. And you really shouldn’t have got up and walked across the room without me helping you. You’re still very weak. You could have fallen over.’

‘I was careful.’

‘Good. Well, perhaps I should be pleased that you managed to find the strength in your legs to do it. Now, I’m going to heat up your soup, and if you want me to keep Oliver’s visits our little secret, you’d better promise me you’ll try to eat it all up.’

‘I promise. Thank you, Laura,’ Caroline said. ‘Can Oliver come back on my lap?’

‘After you’ve had the soup. I’m not being responsible for you spilling it and scalding yourself, on top of everything else.’

With that, she gave me another little stroke before she went back out of the room. Some humans just can’t help themselves – they just love us cats, even if they pretend not to. I lay down on the rug in front of that lovely warm fire, and Caroline talked to me in her quiet gentle voice, telling me how much she wished she could have a little cat of her own. Laura brought in a bowl of something steamy for Caroline, on a tray, and to my surprise, a bowl of milk for me, which I lapped up enthusiastically. And when we’d both finished, she picked me up and put me on the blanket with Caroline, who was having a nap. I turned around a few times, settled myself down, and was so contented I dozed off almost immediately, all thoughts of angry cat-hating fathers banished from my mind. *

After that, whenever I arrived at the big window, Laura let me in, and together we’d entertain Caroline with one of the usual games so irresistible to us cats – balls being rolled across the floor (and under the sofa) for me to chase, feathers being used to tickle me and get me rolling on my back with my paws in the air, strings dangled to make me jump up on my back legs –all giving me some good exercise and getting Caroline laughing her head off at the same time. Then we’d have our refreshments, and finally I’d be allowed to snuggle down with Caroline while we both had our naps. When she woke up, Laura would let me out of the door again and I’d scamper back to my foster home.

The second time, on my way back I ran into Tabby. For once, he was on his own– no sign of Suki anywhere – so I stopped to say hello.

‘You’ll never guess where I’ve been,’ I said, desperate to show off my news.

‘Go on. Where?’ He didn’t sound overly interested.

‘The Big House. I go there every day now.’

‘You’re more of a fool than I thought you were, then,’ he snapped. ‘I warned you to stay away from there, didn’t I? You’ll end up being beaten with a stick by the angry man, and then you’ll be sorry.’

‘No, listen, it’s not like that at all,’ I insisted. ‘There isn’t any angry man. He must be a myth, like Father Christmas.’

Even as I was saying this, there was a little voice in the back of my head reminding me of the things Laura had said about Caroline’s father. But I ignored the little voice. I didn’t want to believe it.

‘Father Christmas isn’t a myth,’ Tabby retorted. ‘Who told you that?’

‘The human kittens at my foster home. They say he isn’t real, but they pretend to believe in him, so they can still have presents.’

‘That’s rubbish. You’ll believe anything, Ollie. You’re so na?ve.’

‘No I’m not! I’m telling you, I’ve been to the Big House loads of times now, and there’s no angry man there. There’s just a woman called Laura and a girl with no fur on her head who lies on a sofa.’

‘Oh, for mewing out loud, Ollie. Have you been at the catnip again? You’re either seeing things, or you’ve got a very active imagination.’

‘I’ve been inside now,’ I shouted at him. ‘They play with me and give me milk, and I snuggle up with the girl on the sofa. Laura says I’m cheering her up.’

‘Yeah, right. Pull the other paw,’ he said disdainfully. ‘If you’ve got any sense, you’ll stop going there, and that’s all I’m saying on the subject.’

I was furious with him for not believing me. What was the matter with him, anyway? He looked like he’d just been told he had an appointment at the vet’s.

‘You’re in a bad mood, aren’t you?’ I said. ‘Where’s Suki? Has she dumped you?’

There was a long silence. He was looking the other way, making little growly noises in the back of his throat. I wasn’t sure if he was about to snap my head off, or burst into mews.

‘What?’ I demanded again. ‘Has she dumped you, then?’

I mean, fair enough, I’d try to be sympathetic if he was really upset. I’d never had relationships with females myself, but it seemed to matter enormously to Tabby. And although he’d been mean to me recently, we had been friends for a long time.

There was another silence. I was just about to give up and walk away, when he said, in a strangled kind of voice:

‘I wish shehad dumped me, Ollie. If only she had, before we got so– you know – carried away with each other.’

Ididn’t know, to be honest. I counted myself lucky that George had taken me to the vet when I was a kitten andgot me done, as they called it. From what I’d seen, having relationships with females only ever led to trouble, to say nothing of the kind of stupid showing-off behaviour I’d seen in Tabby recently. Why would I want to bother with it? But I gave him a little head-rub of sympathy, even though I had no idea what he was on about.

‘You really don’t get it, do you, Ollie?’ he said. ‘You’re not a victim of your hormones like I am.’

Well, thank goodness for that. It sounded most uncomfortable.

‘She hasn’tdumped me,’ he went on, looking like all his nine lives were over. ‘She’spregnant. She’s going to have kittens. She’s saying it’s my fault, and now she keeps on moaning and complaining about it. It’s putting me right off her, to be honest. I mean, she’s a nice-looking cat, but I can’t stand all this bad-tempered yowling – I have to turn tail and run away from her when she starts. Know what I mean, Ollie?’

I didn’t. But as I did my best to comfort him, I’m ashamed to say all I could think about was that maybe now he’d stop being such a pain in the neck and be my friend again.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

So I now had human friendsand cat friends who were expecting babies– and none of them seemed very happy about it. By the way, Charlie, I noticed you looking a bit apprehensive when I mentioned George taking me to the vet’s for that little operation. Honestly, it wasn’t because George was being cruel to me, even though at the time I admit I was frightened outof my life.

‘Ollie,’ he said in his kind, reassuring voice, ‘I’ll never know exactly what happened to you when you were very tiny, but when you were handed in to the people at the Cats’ Protection League, you were starving, and lucky to be alive.’

You can imagine how I shuddered to be reminded of this, but he quickly went on:

‘Your mother was probably a stray who had lots of kittens and, sadly, whoever found you and your brothers and sisters didn’t want you. There are lots of poor stray cats in the world, Ollie, all of them homeless and hungry and having lots of unwanted kittens that nobody looks after. If I didn’t have you neutered, we’d just be adding to the problem. It wouldn’t be your fault – you’d just be following your instincts. But I want to be a responsible cat owner, and do what’s right.’

At the time, although I was moved by what he said, I didn’t fully understand. But I loved George and knew he would never do anything to hurt me. And it’s never bothered me, about having girlfriends. What you’ve never had you’ve never missed. So if your humans make the same decision for you, don’t be frightened. Look at me – I’ve turned out fine, haven’t I?

It was different for my human friends, Nicky and Daniel, of course. Humans tend to stay in their pairs, and keep their human kittens with them and bring them up together. Well, so I’ve been led to believe, although it doesn’t always seem to work out that way. It seems a good arrangement when it works out well, though, and because Nicky and Daniel were such nice humans, who obviously loved each other, I was sure they would stay together and be good parents if only they weren’t so worried about money.

One afternoon, as I passed the place outside the village shop where the pram-pushing females always stopped to chat, I overheard the one called Louise saying:

‘It’s all very well, this idea of looking after each other’s children after Kay’s retired. But I work five mornings a week. Everyone else who works part-time seems to do two or three whole days, so there’s no one available to cover all the hours I work. I’ve asked my boss if I can change to a different arrangement, but it’s no good – he specifically needs me in the office every day. He says I could do less hours each day if necessary, but that wouldn’t help at all. I’d still have no one to look after Freya and Henry, and I’d be earning less money.’

‘What are you going to do?’ Hayley asked her.

‘I have no idea. I’m worried I might lose my job. My mum might be able to come over a couple of days a week, but it’s asking a lot. She doesn’t drive and it’s a long way on the bus. I’ve written an advert, actually, appealing for a nanny. I couldn’t afford a live-in one, and anyway it’d only be for twenty hours a week.’ She waved a piece of paper at her friends. ‘I’m just going to put it on the notice board. But I doubt I’ll have any luck. I can’t think of anyone suitable in the village.’

‘No. Maybe you should advertise in the local paper. You might get someone from Great Broomford, or one of the other villages,’ one of the other women said.

‘Yes. I’ll do that. Thanks.’

Louise went off with her pram, looking tired and worried. I followed her to the notice board and watched as she pinned her paper up.

‘Oh, hello, Oliver,’ she said, almost tripping over me as she turned back to the pram. ‘How are you?’ She bent down and gave me a little stroke. I didn’t mind. I’d got used to the pram ladies. ‘I wish I had your life. No worries, just a nice warm bed and someone to feed you. Lucky oldyou.’

Actually I could have argued with that. After all, I’d been through enough worries and trauma to last me all nine lifetimes, hadn’t I. But it was true that I was quite comfortably off these days and was certainly beginning to be aware of how difficult life could be for some humans. I walked round her legs, giving her a little head rub to consoleher, before scampering off after a couple of sparrows who’d caught my attention, hopping about under a nearby hedge. *

That same evening, Sarah and Martin were talking about Nicky and Daniel again. They obviously so badly wanted to help them, and I really wished there was something I could do, too.

‘I know the local mums are getting this child minding rota organised,’ Martin said. ‘But are yousure there isn’t anyone in the village who might prefer topay someone– someone well-qualified like Nicky – to look after their kids?’

‘Not as far as I’m aware,’ Sarah said with a shrug. ‘And I’m not being funny, but not many people around here really know Nicky yet, let alone know she’s a nursery carer. If she comes to a WI meeting, I can introduce her to people and perhaps everyone can put the word about for her, butyou know what she said – she earns top dollars at that nursery in London and … what is it, Ollie? Do you want to go outside? Go on, then, the cat flap isn’t locked.’

Sometimes, Charlie, I wish so badly that we could talk Human as well as being able to understand it. It can be so frustrating wanting to tell people something important, when all they can think of is our toilet requirements! *

I waited till the next time I saw Daniel outside the cottage. It must have been a Saturday because he was carrying the rucksack he brought me home in that very first day, and was heading off towards the woods, whistling. He always did that when he went hunting for firewood. I think he enjoyed it, a bit like us hunting mice, but easier of course because humans are pathetic hunters.

‘Meow!’ I said to him. ‘Meow, meow, meow!’ I tried to make it sound as urgent as possible.

He stopped and looked at me.‘What’s up, Ollie? Didn’t any of us give you your breakfast this morning?’

Honestly, if it isn’t our toilet requirements, it’s our stomachs. I suppose we should be grateful, but don’t they realise we do occasionally have thoughts thatdon’t concern our bodily functions?

‘MeOW!’ I shouted at him, and stalked down the road a few paces in front of him, twitching my tail and looking back to see if he’d got the message.

‘You want to come to the woods with me, boy?’ he said, still standing on the spot staring after me.

No, for mewing out loud, I’m going in the opposite direction, I thought with exasperation.

‘You wantme to come withyou?’

At last! Finally, he caught up with me and I bounded ahead to where the notice board stood outside the wreck of the village hall. I have to say, it took several frustrating minutes of walking round and round the posts supporting the notice board, several walks around Daniel’s legs and then back to rub my head against the posts again, before he started looking at the notices.

‘Domino team meetings, next venue TBA,’ he read out loud. ‘Pensioners’ afternoon tea at Barbara Griggs’s house. Cub Scouts’ cook-out in Clive and Beryl’s garden, please bring own sausages.’

Further down! I wanted to shout.

‘Mums-and-babies group – next meeting at Hayley’s house Tuesday 2pm, we will sing nursery rhymes, bring shakers. Shakers?’ he asked himself, looking puzzled. Then: ‘Child minding rota. As you know Kay’s nursery business is closing 31 December. Please add your availability and requirements. Oh yes. That’s what Sarah and Martin were telling us about. And what’s this? Louise and Dave Porter require kind, qualified person to care for Freya, three, and Henry, eighteen months, twenty hours per week, Monday to Friday mornings, payment by agreement. Apply to … Wow, Ollie. This might be right up Nicky’s street. Lucky I saw it, eh?’ He gave me a funny look then. ‘If it wasn’t a ridiculous thing to think, I could almost believe you knew this was here.’ *

He did actually try to tell Nicky it was because of me that he’d seen it, but she just laughed. Unfortunately, she also laughed when he told her what the notice had said, but it wasn’t the kind of laugh that sounded as if she was really amused. In fact she sounded quite snappy about it.

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Dan. Twenty hours a week, on local wages? How’s that supposed to be a good idea? We wouldn’t even be able to pay the rent, let alone feed ourselves.’

‘You wouldn’t have to pay train fares,’ he reminded her. ‘And I wouldn’t have to be worried sick about you getting exhausted from commuting, closer to when the baby’s due.’

‘Nobody’s asking you to worry about me,’ she said crossly. ‘Just go and find some firewood, please, Dan, and stop coming up with stupid ideas.’

He picked up his rucksack and went off towards the woods again, only this time he wasn’t whistling. And I slunk away to have a sleep in their kitchen, feeling sorry that I’d tried to help. Maybe I wasn’t as clever as I thought I was. The cat who saved Christmas? At the moment I just seemed to be the cat who caused arguments. *

At least the atmosphere in Sarah and Martin’s house was more cheerful. On that same Saturday, the whole family went out in the car and came back laughing and excited, with a tree strapped to the car roof. Of course, from my Christmases at the pub, I knew straight away what it was, but Sarah must have thought I was a silly little inexperienced kitten like you, because she picked me up and cuddled me as Martin carried the tree inside, telling me not to worry, it wasn’t going to hurt me. I felt quite offended, but at the end of the day there was no point in passing up the opportunity for a nice cuddle.

‘Can we decorate it now, Daddy?’ Grace was shouting as she danced around the room. ‘Please, Daddy, can we…’

‘No. Let’s leave that for a few days, at least. It’s still far too soon – I don’t know why I let you talk me into buying one when it’s not even the first of December until Monday.’

‘Oh, Daddy,please! Now we’ve got it, can’t we put the decorations on?’ She was jumping up and down and going red in the face.

‘Calm down, Grace,’ Martin said. ‘I’ve said no.’ He gave Sarah a look, and nodded at Rose, who was sitting quietly on the sofa, just watching Martin trying to prop the tree up in its bucket.

‘Dad’s right,’ Sarah said. ‘It won’t hurt to wait a few more days for the decorations.’

‘Oh,Mum!’

‘You can both do it together, after Rose has her plaster off on Thursday,’ she said.

‘Oh.’ Grace looked at her sister. ‘Why? She can help me now, with her good arm, can’t she?’

‘That’s not very fair, is it? It’ll be much nicer if you can both do it together, and she’ll manage a whole lot better when she’s got both arms free.’

‘But you said they might not even take the plaster off when she goes to the hospital on Thursday,’ Grace said, crossly. ‘Then we’llnever be able to put the decorations up.’

‘We hope itwill come off.’ Sarah sounded equally cross now. ‘But if it doesn’t, we’ll do the decorations on Thursday evening anyway, andI’ll help Rose so that she can join in properly.’

‘It’s not fair,’ Grace moaned.

‘And it’s not like you to be so selfish, Grace,’ Martin snapped at her. ‘Rose has had to put up with doing everything one-handed all these weeks and hasn’t complained about it. Think yourself lucky it wasn’t you that got hurt.’

‘I wouldn’t have been stupid enough to run into the road,’ Grace retorted – and then she went suddenly even redder, and put her paw over her mouth. ‘Sorry!’ she gabbled. ‘I didn’t mean it!’

But she was too late saying sorry, because Rose had burst into tears, and Sarah had put me down abruptly, got hold of Grace by the shoulders and marched her quite roughly out of the room.

‘Go upstairs and stay there until you’ve had time to think about what you just said,’ I heard her saying angrily. ‘I know you’re overexcited about the Christmas tree, but that was a really nasty thing to say to your sister. And to think you were the one sticking up for her when other children were being unkind.’

‘I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it!’ Grace was still saying through her sobs as she went upstairs. ‘I’m sorry, Rose,’ she called back from their bedroom.

But Rose was crying quietly on the sofa, and Martin was muttering to himself that if Grace carried on like that she wouldn’t get any Christmas presents. The whole day seemed spoilt.

I jumped up on Rose’s lap and snuggled up to her, giving her good paw a few licks of consolation.

‘I’mnot stupid,’ she said in a little quiet voice as Sarah came back into the room. ‘I only ran into the road because I loved Sooty.’

‘Grace knows that really,’ Sarah told her, joining us on the sofa and putting an arm round Rose. ‘She was just being spiteful. She probably resents the extra attention Rose has had,’ she added quietly to Martin, who sighed and nodded.

When Rose had stopped crying, I jumped down and ran upstairs to see Grace. She was lying on her bed, looking like she’d cried even harder than Rose. Her face was swollen and blotchy and her eyes were all red.

‘Oh, Ollie!’ she said, picking me up and cuddling me. ‘I wish I hadn’t been so horrible. I don’t know what’s the matter with me. Am I turning into a horrible person?’

‘No!’ I mewed at her in Cat. I didn’t really know what else to say.

‘I do love Rose, and I actually think she was really, really brave to try to save Sooty,’ she said, her eyes starting to fill up with tears again. ‘She was just getting over it all, wasn’t she, and now I’ve gone and upset her all over again. How can I make it up to her?’

I didn’t have any answers. I just purred against her neck to show I understood.

She jumped up suddenly, wiping her eyes, opened the drawer in her bedside table and pulled out a little pink purse, which she unzipped and tipped upside down on the bed. Lots of brown coins, a few silver ones and one of those pieces of paper they callfive pound notes fell out, and she started counting it all up.

‘I know what I’ll do,’ she said, sounding excited again. ‘I’ll use all my money to buy Rose a new cat of her own, to keep. She can call it Sooty again.That’ll make her happy, won’t it, Ollie?’

I nearly fell off the bed. A new cat? Another Sooty, a permanent member of the family, coming to live in my foster home? I’m sorry to say, Charlie, the selfishness problem must have been catching that day, because all I could think wasWhat about me?

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

For a few days, things were more settled in Sarah and Martin’s house. But I was so worried about the suggestion of a new cat, I decided I’d better try harder than ever to make myself irreplaceable. Since being told off for leaving the headless sparrow in the lounge, I’d tried leaving a few gifts of mice and birds by the back door, but Sarah hadn’t seemed particularly thrilled. So this time, I spent a while stalking the stupid pigeons who dominated the bird feeder a few gardens down the road. They’re not particularly hard to catch, but they’re big and cumbersome to carry off. I chose the biggest, plumpest one, and just to make sure it was properly appreciated, left it on the front doorstep.