The Missing Kitten

“Dad, we’re nearly out of Bootle’s food. There’s only the salmon flavour left, and I don’t think he liked that one very much.”

Bootle wrapped himself lovingly round Scarlett’s legs. He knew quite well what was in those tins, and he didn’t see any reason why he shouldn’t have a second breakfast.

Calling him Bootle had been Jackson’s idea. Scarlett had suggested Boots, but it was like Ginger – a little bit too everyday for such a special cat. Bootle was much better.

Jackson looked up from his huge pile of toast. “We could go to the shop,” he said. “I’ve nearly finished the bread, and there’s not a lot for lunch.”

“I’ve got a work call in a few minutes,” said Dad. He looked at them thoughtfully. “Though I suppose you guys could go if you like.”

“On our own?” Scarlett stared at him.

“Why not? You were going to try it when school started next week, weren’t you? If you’re careful, and you stick together.”

Scarlett shut her eyes for a second at the mention of school. She was trying not to think about it. “Will you look after Bootle while we’re out?” she said seriously.

“Scarlett! You’ll only be gone half an hour!” Dad grinned.

“But he’s not used to me not being here!” It was true. Scarlett had spent all of her time with Bootle since they’d brought him home, only leaving him at night-time, when he was safely tucked up in his cardboard box, padded out with an old towel, and a hot water bottle to feel like his mother and the other kittens. Just until he got used to them not being next to him.

“I think it would be good for him to see you go out,” her dad said gently. “I know you don’t want to think about school, Scarlett, but you do go on Monday. Bootle’s had a whole week of you around all the time. He needs to learn to be without you.”

“But he’ll be lonely,” Scarlett said worriedly.

“It’s only for half an hour,” Dad reminded her.

“When we’re back at school it won’t be!”

“Then he’ll have me for company while I’m working. And you know how he loves the computer.”

Scarlett smiled. It was true. Bootle was fascinated by Dad’s computer. He seemed to love the way the keys went up and down. He would sit watching Dad type for ages, just occasionally putting out a paw to try and join in. Then he would look miffed when Dad told him no. Secretly Scarlett was planning to let him try one day when she was using the laptop she shared with Jackson. She wanted to see what Bootle would write – she knew it would probably be a string of random letters, but she was hoping for a secret message!

“Come on then.” Jackson stuffed the last of the toast into his mouth. “Can we get some crisps as well while we’re at the shop, Dad?”

“Mmm-hmm. Here.” Dad gave Jackson some money. “But I do want change. Be back by half-ten, all right? I don’t want to be pacing up and down outside looking for you.”

“Are you really worried about school?” Jackson asked Scarlett, as they wandered down the footpath in the direction of the village.

“A bit.” Scarlett sighed. “What if nobody talks to me?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Jackson asked, shrugging.

Scarlett shook her head. He was trying to be nice, but he just didn’t get it.

“You had loads of friends at your old school,” said Jackson. “Why do you think you won’t make friends here?”

“It’s such a little school,” Scarlett tried to explain. “Only one class in each year, and not that many in each class, either. They’ll all know each other so well. Like I know Lucy and Ella.” She wished she was as confident as Jackson. He’d already managed to go out for a walk and found a couple of boys playing football. He’d joined in, and then he’d gone back to their house. Scarlett wasn’t sure how he did it.

Jackson rolled his eyes. “Come on. We’re nearly there.”

They went into the shop, and Jackson went to look at football magazines, while Scarlett found the cat food. Then she realized that there were a couple of other girls standing behind her.

“Who’s she?” one of them whispered.

“Don’t you remember? It’s that new girl. The one who came to school for a morning.”

“Ohhh! What’s she called?”

“Something weird. Amber or something.”

Scarlett felt like her stomach was squeezing into a tiny little knot inside her. That was her they were talking about. The one with the weird name. She wanted to scream, “Scarlett!” But she didn’t. She grabbed a couple of tins of cat food, and scuttled over to where Jackson was.

School was going to be a disaster. It was so obvious.

Scarlett lay in bed, watching her clock creep closer to seven. She’d been awake for ages, worrying about their first day at school, and now she just wished it would hurry up and be time.

A throaty purr distracted her, and a soft paw patted her chin. Bootle liked her to be paying attention to him, not the clock.

“I’m glad I went downstairs and fetched you before breakfast,” Scarlett said, tickling him behind the ears. “I know I look miserable, but you’re making me feel a lot better.”

Bootle closed his eyes happily, and purred even louder. Scarlett knew all the places he liked to be stroked, and how he particularly liked being on her bed. It was much cosier than his basket.

“I’m really going to miss you today,” Scarlett murmured. “I hope you’ll be OK. Dad’ll look after you.” She sighed, a huge sigh that lifted up the duvet round her middle, and Bootle’s ears twitched excitedly. He wriggled forward, and peered down under the duvet. It was like a dark little nest, and he wriggled into it, just his tail sticking out, and flicking from side to side.

“What are you doing?” Scarlett giggled. “Silly cat! Oh, Bootle, you’re tickling my legs!”

Even the tail had disappeared now. Bootle was a plump little mound travelling around under the duvet. Then he popped out at the other end of the bed, his ginger fur looking all spiky and ruffled up. He shook himself, and ran a paw over his ears.

Scarlett twitched her toes under the duvet, and he stopped washing and pounced on them excitedly, jumping from side to side as she wriggled them about.

“You’re awake!” Mum put her head round the door. “Time to get up, Scarlett. Hello, Bootle.” She came in and patted him. “Are you worried he’ll miss you while you’re at school?”

Scarlett nodded, and Mum hugged her. “It’ll be fine, sweetheart. Now he’s allowed in the garden he’ll probably just go out and try and chase butterflies again.” She looked at Scarlett. “And you’ll be fine too. Honestly. Try not to worry about it.”

Scarlett nodded. But she wished she felt as sure as everybody else seemed to.

Bootle sat on the back doorstep, next to his cat flap, staring around the garden. He was confused, and a bit bored. Scarlett had gone somewhere. He’d known that she was going – she had picked him up and made a huge fuss of him before she went, and her voice had been different to normal, as though something was wrong. But he hadn’t expected her to be gone this long.

He stalked crossly down the garden, sniffing at the grass, looking for something interesting to do. He sharpened his claws on the trunk of the apple tree, and tried to climb it, but he wasn’t all that good at climbing yet, and he only got halfway up before he got worried and jumped down again. Then he had to sit and wash for a while, pretending to himself that he’d never meant to climb it in the first place.

Where was she? Jackson had gone too – he preferred to play with Scarlett, but Jackson was very good at inventing games with sticks, and bits of string to jump at.

Why had they gone away and left him? And when were they coming back?