Smudge The Stolen Kitten. The Kitten Nobody Wanted. The Frightened Kitten. The Missing Kitten. The Kidnapped Kitten. The Brave Kitten

“Yeah, but there’s no way Emily and Bella will leave him in there,” Helena pointed out. “They’ll be dressing him in their dolls’ clothes the minute Auntie Sam’s back is turned.”

“Mmmm.” Gran drove down the road, frowning to herself. “I wish I could take him…”

“Snow and Smudge wouldn’t like it, though, would they?” Helena sighed. “Everyone’s already got cats, or dogs, or twins.” She was silent for a minute, and then added, “Except us. Me and Mum. Mum’s always said no, because it wouldn’t be good for a cat to be left alone, but this cat needs to have some peace and quiet. Don’t you think so, Gran?”

“And I could always pop in and see him at lunch time. Make a little fuss over him.” Gran darted a hopeful glance at Helena. “You know, maybe we could persuade your mum together.”

“She already said he was gorgeous when Lucy showed her the photo on her phone.” Helena wound her hands together, over and over. She was suddenly so excited she couldn’t keep still.

If only they could convince her mum…

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“But we can’t… We don’t have anywhere to keep him.”

“We do, Mum! In here – in the kitchen would be all right. He couldn’t jump on the counter. We could put a blanket in that space under the counter for him, with his food bowls and litter tray, and I promise I’d clean it out, always.”

“I can come and check on him, Clare, at lunch time,” Gran suggested.

Helena’s mum frowned, looking round at her little kitchen.

“He can’t go to Lucy’s house, Mum,” said Helena. “And he’ll be miserable at the shelter, I know he will. No one’s come to claim him, even though we put posters up all round where we found him, and in the vet’s window. He’s been in the local paper today, with a message saying to ring the surgery, but no one has yet. Maybe his owner will see the photo, but he was so thin, Lucy thinks that could mean he’s been a stray for a while. I want to be able to look after him. It feels like I have to, since I was the one who found him.”

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Her mum was silent for a moment, then she turned round to look at her.“I suppose not. Oh, Helena. It’s going to be a lot of work, you know. But I am proud of you.”

“You mean … yes?” Helena asked, confused. She’d expected to have to beg for an awful lot longer than that. And even then, deep down, she’d been almost certain that her mum would never agree.

“Yes. I mean, we’d have to give him back, if his real owner contacted the surgery, but yes. Do you think he could stay at the vet’s until the weekend?” her mum asked. “Then we’d have two whole days to get him used to being at our house, before we have to leave him on his own.”

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The cat was sitting up the next afternoon when Helena brought her mum to meet him. He peered out of the cage bars, waiting for her. He could hear her talking to someone in the next room, and she sounded excited and happy. She had brought him cat treats the last time she came, fishy ones that he liked. And sometimes she opened the front of the cage and sat for ages, stroking his fur and murmuring to him. She made him feel safe. Even when he was stuck here in this place that wasn’t his home, and he could smell the dogs at the other end of the room.

He sat up, wondering if perhaps she’d let him out of the cage this time. He could sit on her, and then she’d be able to stroke him better and rub his ears.

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When he saw the girl come in, he skittered nervously back, knocking his cast against the floor of the cage. She wasn’t on her own – the young woman was with her, the one he saw every day, and someone else, too.

“It’s all right,” Helena murmured. “This is my mum. We’ll be taking you home to our house soon…”

The caramel cat didn’t know what Helena was saying, but he liked hearing her soft voice. And the other person spoke softly, too.

“He’s beautiful, Helena. Even more than in the photos. What are we going to call him? Or have you named him already?”

Helena opened the door of the cage, and the cat stepped out slowly, sniffing at her outstretched hand. She rubbed the dark caramel stripes between his ears, and smiled at her mum.

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“I haven’t really named him. But when I think about him, I call him the cat with the caramel fur. Do you think we could call him Caramel?”

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“We’re here!” Helena said gratefully, turning round to peer at the crate strapped into the back seat. Caramel had been howling dismally ever since Mum drove off. He clearly hated the crate, and didn’t like the feeling of the moving car at all.

“Do you think being in a car reminds him of the accident?” she asked her mum worriedly.

“No – I think all cats hate being in boxes. Shut in them, I mean. They like getting in by themselves.” Her mum turned off the engine, and looked round, too. “Even when he’s been in the cage at the vet’s for a whole week, it’s not the same. He can’t see out of that travelling basket very well. He’ll be much better when we let him into the kitchen.”

“It’ll probably feel huge,” Helena agreed, opening her door and going to get the basket out of the back. “We’re here, Caramel. This is your house now, too. Just your kitchen for the minute, though. But Molly says you’ll be able to have the plaster off in about three more weeks, since you’re still a kitten, and you’ll heal quicker than a big cat.” She carried the box into the house as she chatted to him, and her mum came in behind her, shutting the door of their little kitchen. There were only the worktops in there, and the oven and the fridge, and Helena was almost sure Caramel wouldn’t be able to jump up on those. So it was a safe place to keep him.

“Look,” she said gently, unlatching the top of the box and taking it off, so Caramel could decide to come out when he wanted to. “There’s a special soft basket for you. And a litter tray. And I’ll get you some food.”

They had gone to the pet shop the night before and got it all– the travel box, and the cushiony basket, and the food bowls. It had been so exciting. Helena had looked at cat toys as well, but they hadn’t bought any, not for the moment. They were all designed for chasing and rolling and batting with paws, and Caramel needed to stay quiet and rest. Helena promised herself she’d go back, once he was better.

Caramel sat pressed against the back of the crate, looking around suspiciously. He hadn’t understood what was happening when they’d lifted him out of the cage and into this horrible little box. Then he’d thought that perhaps they were going home. It had been such a long time since he’d been there.

He hunched his shoulders, ears laid back, and watched Helena and her mum both watching him. But they were quiet and still, and no one was grabbing at him. The fur along his spine flattened down a little and he padded his paws thoughtfully into the blanket. Then he sniffed and shook his ears, standing up a bit lopsided. This wasn’t his old house, of course. But it smelled good. Not like the surgery, full of sharp strong smells that hurt his nose. This place smelled of the girl, and food. He lurched out of the basket, his plastered leg tangling in the blanket, and set out to explore.

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“I thought he was never going to come out,” Helena breathed to her mum, watching Caramel sniff the doors of the cupboards.

“I know. Why don’t you put some food down for him?”

Helena stood up. She tried to do it very carefully and slowly, but Caramel still flinched back against the cupboards when he saw her move. It made her want to cry.“It’s all right. I was just getting you some breakfast,” she murmured. “Lucy said she didn’t feed you this morning, just in case you were sick in your basket.”

She fetched one of the tins out of the cupboard and pulled up the ring on the lid. Then she laughed as Caramel hurried across the kitchen floor, his plastered leg knocking on the tiles.“You sound like a pirate cat, with a wooden leg,” she told him, as she put the bowl down.

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“I’m so glad he’s eating,” her mum said, leaning against the counter to watch him.

“I know – I was worried he’d be too upset being in a new place,” Helena agreed. “But look at him, he’s wolfing that down.” She stood up, putting an arm round her mum. “Thanks for letting us have him.”

“You’re not disappointed?” Mum asked. “I mean – it’s not like having a normal cat. He’s not very friendly. And he can’t sleep on your bed or anything like that.”

Helena shrugged.“I know. But he will be able to one day. And I know he’s not that friendly yet, but think how special it will be when heis.”

She crouched down again to watch Caramel licking out his food bowl. He’d definitely got his appetite back, and he was making sure to get every last morsel of food. He stood up again, rather clumsily, and licked his whiskers.

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Caramel uncurled himself from his basket as he heard footsteps coming towards the kitchen door. The girl. And probably breakfast. He hobbled to the door to meet her, rubbing hopefully round her ankles. She crouched down to stroke him– but he noticed she carefully shut the kitchen door first, so he couldn’t dart round it. She murmured to him as she scratched the satin-soft puffs of fur at the base of his ears, and he leaned against her lovingly.

Helena had spent a lot of the weekend sitting next to him on the floor, letting him get used to her being around. She’d even done her homework sitting on the kitchen floor. When Caramel had tried to steal her pencil while she was doing long division, it had been one of the best moments of the weekend. It proved he was happy enough to play.

“I wish I didn’t have to go to school today…” Helena told him, as she scooped food into his bowl. “Urgh, this smells disgusting, Caramel. I don’t know how you can be so excited about it.” She giggled, watching him waltz around her feet, waiting for her to put the bowl down. He still didn’t like moving his broken leg much, so that leg stayed still, and the rest of him whirled around, a bit like a spinning top.

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He started to gobble the food before she’d even put the bowl down, stretching up to get his mouth over the edge of the bowl, and patting at it with one golden paw.

“You’re definitely getting better,” Helena said, watching happily as he gulped the food down. “Are you making up for all those days at the vet’s when you didn’t eat properly? I do still wonder if you were a stray for a while before the accident. You’re ever so thin. And otherwise I’m sure your owners would have seen our posters if they lived anywhere near. We put them everywhere.”

Caramel was just finishing the food when Helena’s mum hurried into the kitchen. She was a bit late getting breakfast ready, and she was rushing. She banged the door open without thinking and Caramel shot into the corner, trembling and pressing himself against the side of the cupboard.

“Mum! You scared him!” Helena gasped.

“Oh! Sorry, Caramel…” Her mum shut the door gently, and crouched down, holding her hand out for the frightened cat to sniff. “I’m really sorry, Helena, I didn’t realize the door would frighten him so much. He’s been so good this weekend.”

“I know…” Helena agreed sadly. “But I suppose he’s still upset, deep down. It’s going to take a while for him to get over that.” She looked at her mum. “He will be happier again one day, won’t he?”

“I’m sure he will.”

But Helena didn’t think her mum was very sure at all.

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“Be good, Caramel.” Helena ran her hand lovingly down his silky back. “Have lots of lovely sleep. Gran’s going to come and see you at lunch time, and I bet she’ll bring you treats.”

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Caramel stood in the middle of the kitchen, looking up at her uncertainly. He wasn’t sure what was happening. Since he had arrived at Helena’s house, early on Saturday morning, Helena had been with him almost all the time. She had even come down in the middle of the night to check on him. But now she had a coat on, and a bag with her. It looked as though she was leaving him behind.

At his old house, his owner had gone out to work most days. Caramel had lazed the time away, curled up on the back of the sofa so that he could watch the people passing in the street. And the cars. Caramel laid his ears back with a frightened little hiss.

Most days he’d slipped out of his cat flap and patrolled his territory in the gardens behind the house. There were several other cats in the street, and he was one of the youngest and newest, so he’d had to be careful to stay out of their way. But he still had plenty to explore. There was a pond a few houses away, and he liked to watch the frogs. And catch them, sometimes. He could creep up on them among the plants around the water. But his owner hadn’t liked it when Caramel had brought one home. He had taken Caramel’s frog outside, and locked the cat flap so that he couldn’t slip out and fetchit back in again.

But here, there was no window to watch from, and no cat flap to slide out of. He was all alone in this little room. It was better than the cage at the vet’s surgery, of course, but being shut up still made him want to claw at the door and fight his way out. When would Helena and her mother come back? Perhaps they weren’t coming back at all? His old owner had fussed over him, and fed him, and loved him, but now he was gone. Maybe Helena had gone,too. Caramel stared anxiously at the kitchen door, hoping to hear them coming back. But there wasn’t a sound.

Perhaps he could go and find them himself?

Caramel hobbled across the tiled floor, sniffing hopefully at the door out to the garden. There was a faint breath of fresh air around the side of the door– just enough to make him desperate to go out. He scratched at the door, but not very hard. He could already see that he wasn’t going to be able to get out.

Wearily, he trailed back to his basket. His broken back leg was aching, not used to carrying his weight. Caramel snuggled into the basket, and hoped that Helena hadn’t left him for ever. He hoped that she would come back soon.

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“So does anyone have any exciting news from their weekend?” Miss Smith looked round at the class as she finished marking the register.

“Tell her!” Katie hissed, nudging Helena in the ribs with her elbow. “Helena does, Miss Smith!”

Helena went pink, but she nodded.“I’ve got a cat.”

“Oh, lovely!” Miss Smith smiled. “Where did you get him from, Helena? Or her?”

“He’s a he. And he came from the vet’s where my cousin Lucy works,” Helena explained. “He was run over last weekend.”

Everyone in the class sat up and started listening more closely. Until then there’d been a bit of a Monday-ish feeling going on, and most people had been staring vaguely at the whiteboard, or whispering to each other.

“Run over?” one of the boys asked. “What happened, was he hurt?”

Helena nodded.“He’s got a fractured back leg. But he was lucky. Often they have to operate on cats and put pins in, but he’s just got a cast.”

“But who does he belong to?” Miss Smith asked, sounding a little confused. “Was he a stray? Has no one claimed him?”

“No. And the vet’s even put a little article about him in the local paper. That page where the animal shelter usually puts a photo of a cat or dog that needs a home.”

“Oh, that’s how we got our dog!” Marley called out. “We saw him in the paper.”

“Mm-hm. The article was in on Wednesday. But still no one claimed him. So we reckoned it was OK to take him home. We think maybe he’s been lost for a while, even before he got hit by the car. He’s quite thin.”

“Show them the photo,” Katie suggested, and Helena pulled it out of her bag. She’d brought it in to show Katie and a couple of her other friends. It was Caramel curled up asleep in his basket, and you could see his plaster cast. She passed it round, and all the class murmured about how cute he was and how sad his leg looked.

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“He’s come home with us because otherwise he would have had to go to the animal shelter,” Helena went on. “He’s been really lucky. All his vet care’s been paid for by donations from the shelter he almost went to, and the PDSA.”

“The what?” someone called.

“It’s a charity, isn’t it?” Miss Smith asked.

Helena nodded.“It stands for People’s Dispensary for Sick Animals. It’s a big charity, but they have a clinic close to here, in Thirtover Road. They look after animals when people can’t afford to pay. Vet bills can be really, really expensive. Thousands of pounds, my cousin told me.”

Helena frowned thoughtfully. Ever since Molly had told her that the PDSA were helping to pay back the surgery for Caramel’s treatment, she’d been wishing she could do something to help. Something more than just giving them her pocket money. She’d already decided to get her mum to buy their Christmas cards from the PDSA – they made very cute ones with cats and dogs in the snow – but it would be good to thinkof a way to raise some money, too. So that if another cat got hurt like Caramel, there wouldn’t be a worry about having enough money to look after it.

Lucy had said that when she’d phoned the shelter to tell them that they wouldn’t have to take Caramel after all, the girl on the phone had been relieved. She’d said they were full to bursting. They needed a lot of money just to feed all the animals, let alone pay for vet care.

“Miss Smith, do you think we could try to make some money for the PDSA, and some for the shelter? We could have a cake sale or something?” Helena asked hopefully. “Mr Brown said he wanted all the junior classes to think about fundraising for charities. It was in assembly, back at the beginning of term.”

“He did…” Miss Smith agreed. “It’s a good idea. What about the rest of the class, though? What do you all think?”

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“I definitely want to raise some money for the shelter!” Marley nodded. “There were loads of other dogs there when we went to get Chester. It was really sad – my mum cried. And the other charity sounds good, too,” he added.

Everyone in the class was nodding, but Alice, another of Helena’s friends, waved her hand at Miss Smith. “Can we do something different, though? Everyone does cake sales.”

“That’s because everyone likes cake!” Katie pointed out, and Alice shrugged.

“It’s still a bit boring.”

“So what do you want to do instead?” Miss Smith grinned. “How about a sponsored silence?”

Lots of people groaned, and Helena twisted her fingers in her hair, trying to think. They needed to come up with a good idea and quickly, before people lost interest. Already a couple of the boys were suggesting a sponsored parachute jump. It would just get silly in a minute. She put her hand up, looking hopefully at Miss Smith.

“We ought to do something that’s about pets. Since that’s what we’re raising money for.”

“Like a dog show!” Alice suggested, but Miss Smith looked rather horrified.

“Sorry, I don’t think Mr Brown would let us have a dog show in school,” she said firmly.

“But we could have a sort of competition,” Helena said slowly. “With videos of our pets, instead of bringing the actual pets in! Like a funniest pet competition. We could ask the whole school if they wanted to enter. And the teachers! Mr Brown’s got a really cute dog, hasn’t he?”

“I could borrow my mum’s phone and film Charlie skateboarding,” Katie yelped excitedly. “He’s not very good at it, but he loves trying. It’s really funny to watch.”

“And people could pay a little bit to enter,” Helena said, still trying to think it through. “Then we could show all the videos one lunch time. And sell tickets – oh, and have cakes and biscuits for sale, too,” she added to Katie.

“I’ll ask Mr Brown about it at break,” Miss Smith said, as the whole class tried to tell her about their pets’ funniest tricks at once. “And then maybe we can use your IT lesson this afternoon to make some posters.”

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Helena hopped impatiently from foot to foot as her mum unlocked the front door. Gran had sent Mum a text saying that Caramel had been fine at lunch time. But Helena was desperate to see for herself that he was all right. She rushed in as soon as Mum got the door open, making for the kitchen.

“Oh! Listen!” she told her mum, stopping in the hall. “He’s mewing… And I can hear him – he’s got out of his basket, he’s coming to see us!” There was definitely a thumping noise coming from behind the kitchen door, as Caramel limped determinedly towards them. Helena giggled. “Maybe I can film you doing your pirate walk for our competition,” she told Caramel, as she carefully opened the kitchen door. “Whoa! No dashing out…” She caught him gently. “Sorry, Caramel-cat. You have to stay in here.”

Caramel half climbed into her lap, and rubbed his chin against her school jumper.

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“Is he purring?” Mum whispered.

Helena looked up at her and nodded. She actually hadn’t dared to say anything. It was only the second time she’d heard him purr. And that first time at the vet’s he had only purred for a second or two, very faintly. Now Caramel was purring properly. A deep throaty purr that Helena could feel as well as hear. He was quivering all over with purrs.

“He’s glad to see us,” she whispered to Mum. “He’s actually happy!”

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“He’s definitely looking better,” Katie said after school the next day, watching Caramel trying to investigate the fridge. Helena had opened it to get out the butter, and Caramel could smell the ham for her packed lunches. It smelled delicious – and very close to his nose.

“He is, isn’t he,” Helena agreed happily. “No, you can’t climb in there!” She nudged Caramel back with her toe and closed the door. “Sorry. Am I mean, puss?”

Caramel stalked away with his tail in the air, as though he wasn’t bothered, but his plastered leg made it a bit tricky. He was still feeling wobbly.

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“He looked quite sad in that photo you brought in,” Katie said. “But now he’s cheered up a lot, I think. It’s lovely to finally meet him in person. Caramel! Puss, puss, puss…” She made kissy noises, and Caramel padded cautiously across the floor towards her, sniffing her outstretched fingers, and letting her rub his head and tickle his ears.

“He’s much more friendly now,” Helena said happily. “I don’t think he’d have done that on Saturday when we brought him home. When you think that it’s only Wednesday. He’s got ever so much better, and in such a short time. When he was still at the vet’s he was so shy and miserable.He’s quite nervous sometimes, though,” she added. “He hates loud noises.”

“He walks really well, doesn’t he,” Katie said, watching Caramel prowl round their ankles as they weighed out the ingredients for their biscuits.

“He’s putting weight on his bad leg a bit more now. Before he was sort of hopping, as if he was trying not to put it down to the ground. He’s got another two and a half weeks, and then hopefully he can have the plaster taken off. Oh, please can you pass me the sugar?”

The two girls were making cat-shaped biscuits to sell at the Funniest Pet Show. Mr Brown, the head teacher, had said it was a great idea, very creative. He’d told them to go ahead and arrange the show for Friday when he’d be able to judge.

“Did you send in a video of Caramel with his plaster on?” Katie asked. “I’ve done Charlie – he was brilliant. The skateboard went out from under his paws and he just sort of stared at it as if he didn’t understand what had happened.”

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“Yes, I sent it, but I don’t think he’ll win,” Katie said, shaking her head. “Some of the others are so funny. Bella’s cat trying to drink out of the taps in the washbasin is the best, I reckon. It’s the way she turns her head upside down, and then shakes all the water off her whiskers. It makes me laugh every time.”

Helena and some of the others in her class had been watching all the videos with their teacher during break and lunch to find the best ones that would be in the show– they’d meant to put them all in, but there were so many, there wasn’t time to let everyone watch them all. They had already made more than eighty pounds, just from people paying a pound to send in a video. Then they were selling tickets for the show, and everyone in the class was supposed to be bringing some cakes or biscuits in to sell, too.

“We should have got orangey-gold icing for the eyes on these biscuits,” Katie said, peering down at Caramel, who’d gone to sit in his basket under the counter, since they clearly weren’t going to feed him anything. “I hadn’t noticed before what a lovely colour his eyes are.”

“I know,” Helena agreed proudly. “Mum and I talked about doing the eyes gold when we made the shopping list, but we decided green ones were more usual. Caramel’s just extra-specially beautiful.”

“He looks like he’s sulking,” Katie said. “Is he OK? He’s got his nose tucked away inside his basket.”

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Helena looked down under the counter and sighed.“I think that now he’s walking better, it’s making him cross being shut in the kitchen. Every time we open the kitchen door, he’s there, trying to slip round our legs. He never scratches or bites, but you can tell he’s annoyed. His ears go all flat, and his tail’s twitchy. He wants to go and explore.”

“Couldn’t you let him out?” Katie asked. “Why does he have to stay in the kitchen?”

“Molly – that’s the vet – she said that if he tried to climb or jump he could jar his broken leg and stop it healing. Even if it was just trying to climb the stairs, he might trip and fall because of the plaster. There’s nowhere in the kitchen that he can reach to jump up to, but there’s enough space for him to exercise his leg muscles. Otherwise his leg’s going to go all thin and weak inside the plaster.”

“Oh, I see.” Katie nodded. “That’s sensible.”

“Mmmm, Caramel doesn’t think so, though. He thinks we’re just being mean.” Helena sighed. “Little grumpy-face,” she told Caramel lovingly.

Caramel heard her, and looked up. He gazed at her for a moment and then yawned hugely, showing all his teeth and his bright pink tongue.

Helena giggled.“See? That’s what he thinks of us…”

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Caramel sat by the back door, his nose pressed against the narrow crack between the door and the frame. There was something out in the garden, he was sure. He could hear it– a bird, perhaps, tapping and twittering around on the little stone patio. He ached to be out there, too, smelling the smells, chasing the birds. Just feeling the air ruffling up his fur. He hated being an inside cat.

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He paced up and down beside the door for a few moments, letting out a frustrated mew. His leg was so much better now. It felt stronger. He was sure he could even climb a tree, if only they would let him out. Or maybe scramble up on to the top of a fence, just to get a good look around. He wanted to see what the outside was like round here. He was so sick of being shut up indoors.

His ears twitched as he caught a sound from the front of the house– footsteps on the path, and now scratching as someone fiddled with the front door. Helena was back!

No. His shoulders sagged a little. It wasn’t the right time. It would be that other lady come to check on him.

“Hello, Caramel…” Gran was squeezing carefully round the door, making sure not to let him dart out. “How are you, darling? Want some of these nice little biscuit things?”

She brought a packet out of her handbag, and Caramel sniffed as she pulled it open, and the delicious smell wafted around. But somehow, it just wasn’t very exciting. Not nearly as good as the fresh air smell through the back door. It was starting to rain now. He could smell the wet pavement smell, and hear the heavy fat drops pattering down on the stone. He wanted to be out in it. Not for long – just enough to feel the freshness, and then dash back in and lick off all the water. It would be so good…

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“Oh, it’s raining! And I didn’t bring an umbrella – what a nuisance.” Gran was staring out of the window, looking irritated. “And look, Caramel, they’ve got washing out! Well, that’s going to get soaked. And there’s Helena’s school jumper. I wonder if she needs that for tomorrow… Drat it, I’ll have to go and bring it all in.”

She put down her bag on the counter, and hurried to the door, jingling the keys as she unlocked it.

Caramel hadn’t understood what she was saying about the washing, of course, but he knew what the sound of the keys meant. She was letting him out! He stood by her feet, his tail twitching excitedly, and his whiskers fanned and bristling. Out! After all this time! As the door opened, he darted round Gran’s feet, his caramel fur brushing against her legs, and hopped down the little step on to the patio.

Gran was thinking about the washing, not about Caramel, and so she didn’t realize what had happened until it was too late. “Oh! Oh, no! You’re not supposed to go out! Oh, my goodness, how stupid of me…” She abandoned the washing and went after the cat. “Caramel! Come on… Caramel… Puss, puss…”

But Caramel was sniffing at the flower pots and twitching delightedly at the feel of the rain on his fur. He could smell other cats, which was interesting, and dangerous, and exciting. And perhaps a dog, close by, and there was a beetle walking along in front of his nose… Everything was good…

“Come here, Caramel, come on, you’ll hurt yourself…” Gran reached down and tried to grab him, but Caramel skittered out of reach, his cast knocking on the stone paving, and throwing him off balance.

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He hissed as a twinge of pain ran through his injured leg, and backed away furiously.

“Oh no…” Gran hurried after him, but Caramel hissed again, frightened and hurting, and darted away around the corner of the house, up the little side passage where the bins were.

Gran was chasing him but he didn’t want to be caught. His leg was throbbing as he scurried up the passage, and now there was a gate, shutting him in again. Caramel spat angrily and pressed up against it. He wasn’t going to let her grab him! He couldn’t be shut up inside again. He darted a clawed paw at Gran as she came close and reached to pick him up. Desperate, he squashed himself down and scrabbled under the wooden boards, dragging his plastered leg behind him. He struggled, mewing, for a second – and then he was out, at the front of the house, on the road.

[Êàðòèíêà: _9.jpg]

Once he’d squeezed under the gate, Caramel hobbled out on to the pavement, going as fast as he could with his plastered leg. He was determined not to let Gran catch him. He scurried along the pavement and darted behind someone’s wheelie bin when he heard the gate squeak open, and Gran dash out after him. He could hear her calling, but he stayed tucked behind the bin.

[Êàðòèíêà: _40.jpg]

Caramel peered out, watching her, and when she hurried off the other way down the road, he pressed himself close against the garden wall, and slunk away. Everything smelled so good in the damp, rain-fresh air. His leg was aching a little– he hadn’t gone so fast or so far on it for ages – but he didn’t mind. He was so tired of cages and that tiny room.

The rain had stopped now and the clouds were blowing over. He shivered with pleasure as he felt the warm autumn sun shining down on his fur. That was what he wanted to do! He would find somewhere to lie in the sun. If only Gran hadn’t been chasing him, he could have stayed in the little garden at the back of Helena’s house. He was sure there would have been a nice sunny place to curl up. And when Helena came home, she could stroke him while he snoozed.

He glanced uncertainly back down the road. He could go and see. He could squeeze back under the gate… But he could hear Gran calling him, her voice more and more worried. That high, panicked note made the fur lift a little along his spine, and he hurried on a few steps further.

He couldn’t go too far, though, he realized, after he’d gone past a few more houses. It was hard, half hopping along with his cast like this, and he was already getting tired.

He was looking around, wondering where he could go and rest and sleep in the sun for a little while, when he heard it. It drowned out Gran’s shouting – the low rumble of a car, heading down the road towards him.

Caramel’s ears went back, and his tail fluffed out to twice its normal size. He had heard cars before, of course. But now the sound reminded him of the accident, and that strange blaze of light, and then waking up to find he couldn’t walk.

He whipped his head desperately from side to side as the growl of the car grew louder, and as it roared past he shot into the nearest garden, forgetting how much his leg was hurting, and how weary he was. He had to get away.

Caramel darted under the bushes, not even noticing how wet they were. And then he huddled there, shivering and terrified, and wishing he’d never strayed outside the house.

[Êàðòèíêà: _41.jpg]

[Êàðòèíêà: _42.jpg]

“You let him out?” Helena gaped at Gran as they stood outside the gates after school. She couldn’t understand it. For a moment when Gran had started to explain, Helena had thought that she must be joking – that it was some sort of silly story, but it wasn’t.

“I’m so sorry, Helena, I wasn’t thinking. It was the washing, you see – I had to get it in because of the rain. Oh, I’m not explaining this very well.”

Gran looked exhausted, Helena realized. She’d probably spent ages getting Caramel back in. She felt guilty for being angry, but only a little bit. How could Gran have let him out, when it was so important that he stayed in the kitchen?

“He slipped past me. He was so quick…”

“We might need to get him to the vet’s to see if he’s damaged his leg.” Helena started off down the road towards home, weaving round everyone pouring out of the school gates. Usually they went back to Gran’s house on the days that Mum was working late, but Helena was sure Gran would understand that she wanted to check up on Caramel first.

“How did you get him back in?” she asked, turning to look at Gran, who was hurrying after her.

Gran stopped and simply stared at her, and Helena’s stomach seemed to lurch inside her. All at once, she knew what Gran had been trying to make her understand.

She hadn’t got him back. Caramel was lost!

Helena turned back, looking at the road and the cars flashing by, taking everyone home from school. Then she simply ran. She ran all the way home, ignoring Gran calling after her. After a little while, she couldn’t hear Gran shouting anyway.

Her mouth was dry, her heart racing. She was so horribly certain that as she turned into their street, she would see the little heap of sandy fur again. And that this time, Caramel wouldn’t have been so lucky. He had his leg in plaster – how could he get out of the way of a car?

When she turned the corner into their road, Helena stopped for a moment, panting, her face scarlet. There was no cat in the road, not that she could see. And no crowd of horrified passers-by. She took a deep, shuddering breath and went on, hurrying up their side of the road, and then carefully crossing over and checking the other side. Looking under all the cars.

[Êàðòèíêà: _43.jpg]

At last she stopped, leaning against the front wall of their house and trying not to cry. Where was he? Gran had tried to explain that he’d run under the side gate, so he must have come out on to the road. Perhaps he was just hiding somewhere, Helena thought, with a sudden jolt of hope. She dropped her school bag by the front door, and set off up the road, calling. “Caramel! Caramel!”

But he didn’t come, and she couldn’t even hear an answering mew. She flinched as a car sped past, wanting to shout after the driver to slow down. What if Caramel ran across the road to get to her?

Would he come anyway? Helena wondered worriedly. Perhaps he didn’t know her well enough to want to come back. He’d only lived with them for half a week, after all. But he’d been getting so friendly – she had really felt like he was their cat.

Perhaps he’d gone back to his old house – his old owner – if he knew where it was. Helena gulped back tears.

“Helena!” Gran was hurrying down the road towards her. “Oh, I was so worried. You crossed all those roads on your own.”

Helena stared back at her.“I’m sorry, Gran,” she said breathlessly. She’d been so frightened, she’d just thought about getting home and finding Caramel, nothing else.

“He’s not here, Gran…” Helena said miserably. “I’ve called and called. Maybe he’s gone back to his old home. Or he might just be lost. He might be one of those cats who doesn’t have a good sense of direction. He’ll never find his way back to us!”

Gran wrapped her arms round Helena.“We must be able to find him,” she murmured. “I’m so sorry, Helena. Surely he can’t be far away.”

[Êàðòèíêà: _9.jpg]

[Êàðòèíêà: _44.jpg]

Caramel could hear Helena calling him, and his ears pricked forward hopefully. She sounded worried, but he knew her far better than Gran, and he was sure she wasn’t angry. He stirred under the bushes, trying to summon up the energy to get back on to his aching leg and go to her. But as he poked his nose out from under the plants, another car came racing by, and he pressed himself back into the leaves with a frightened hiss.

He couldn’t move. He just couldn’t. Even though he could hear Helena calling him again and again, and her gran and later her mum too, he was too frightened to come out. Every few minutes a car would go by, and Caramel froze, paralysed by the noise.

He wriggled back even further when a car pulled up outside the house and footsteps echoed beside his hiding place. It was getting dark, and cold. The cold made his injured leg ache even more, and he shivered miserably. The lights came on in the house behind him, and that just made the night seem darker. He wanted to be home, with Helena putting down his food bowl, and watching him eat.

There were fewer cars now, though, he realized. He had been hiding there for hours, waiting for the next one to roar past, his muscles tensed in case it came close. He edged out from the bushes, his whiskers twitching nervously as he sniffed the night air. Helena’s house was only a little way down the road. He knew it.

He could get home, if only he were brave enough to come out of his hiding place.

And itwas home, he realized. He wanted to be back with Helena. Even if they did keep him shut up. The house was safe and warm, and they would look after him. Caramel limped out of the tiny front garden and crouched by the wall, his ears laid back. No cars. It was time to go.

[Êàðòèíêà: _9.jpg]

Helena was sitting curled up in bed, in the dark. She’d tried to sleep – Mum kept coming in and checking on her, and last time Helena had actually pretended she was asleep. She didn’t want Mum to tell her all over again that it would be all right, and they’d probably find Caramel tomorrow. Mum didn’t know that! She was just saying it to make her feel better. And it wasn’t working.

[Êàðòèíêà: _45.jpg]

Helena sniffed. She had tried so hard to look after Caramel, but it would have been better if he’d gone to the shelter after all. He wouldn’t have been able to run away there, and he’d still be safe. She felt a choking feeling build up in her throat again, and she tried desperately to swallow it back down.

What if they never saw him again?

Helena gulped, and buried her nose in her duvet, trying to muffle the gasping, horrible noises she was making. It was really late– Mum was probably asleep. She sat there, curled up and shaking, tears making a great wet patch on her duvet.

He hadn’t been hit by another car, Helena tried to tell herself. They had searched all the streets nearby, and they hadn’t found him. And Gran had rung Lucy to check he hadn’t been brought into the surgery. He was just hiding somewhere. She pressed her face back into the duvet, thinking how cold andfrightened Caramel must be. The wind lashed raindrops against her window again – it was such a horrible night to be outside.

Then another sound made Helena look up. She could hardly hear it, with the wind blowing, and at first she’d thought it was just the rain. But it wasn’t – she knew that noise! That odd knocking, like a pirate walking on his wooden leg. Helena wriggled frantically, trying to unwind herself from her duvet. It was Caramel!

She jumped out of bed, racing to the window. She could hear him mewing now, too. She wrenched open her curtains and shoved the window open, leaning down to see into the garden.

And he was there! A small, bedraggled, golden cat, yowling at her in the moonlight. He’d come home!

[Êàðòèíêà: _46.jpg]

[Êàðòèíêà: _9.jpg]

“Look, Caramel,” Helena told him proudly, as she stuck the certificate on to the fridge door with a magnet. “Bella’s cat won the prize for the most amazing pet! I told you she would, but you were second! And do you know how much money we raised altogether? Three hundred pounds! That’s a lot,” she added, as Caramel rubbed himself around her knees. “Yes, I know. You don’t care at all, you just want me to get the cat food out. All right.”

She looked down at him as she squeezed the food into his bowl. His fur was soft and caramelly again, and he was only limping a little. Last night, when she’d run downstairs, and out into the garden to scoop him up, his coat had been dark and spiky with rain, and he’d looked so miserable. His leg had obviously been hurting, too. She and Mum had dried him with a towel and he’d purred at them gratefully. Helena had been worried that the rain had softened the cast, or that he’d made the break worse, but Molly had driven round and looked at him, and said that luckily it was all right. She thought Caramel was just limping because he’d been putting more weight on his leg than he was used to.

“Only another two weeks,” Helena told Caramel, as she knelt on the floor, watching him licking out his bowl. “Molly said she was almost sure the cast could come off after that. Then you’ll be able to explore the rest of the house. And go outside.”

Caramel sniffed round the edge of the bowl, just in case any food had escaped, and then nosed lovingly at Helena’s hand. He yawned and licked his whiskers, then climbed determinedly into her lap. He flopped down, stretching his plastered leg sideways and kneaded at her school skirt with his front paws. He was glad to be home.

Helena giggled, and shifted her feet a little, so she wouldn’t get pins and needles. It looked like Caramel was staying for a while.