The Secret Kitten. Sammy The Shy Kitten. The Curious Kitten. The Homeless Kitten. A Kitten Called Tiger. The Rescued Kitten

30. THE SECRET KITTEN

Lucy stood on tiptoe with her elbows balanced on the windowsill, leaning out to look down at the garden. She had never had a room like this before, right up at the very top of the house. She was so high up that the garden looked strange and far below, the trees short and stubby, even though she knew that they were tall.

Actually, she had never had a room of her own before. She had always shared with William, her little brother. But now they were living at Gran’s house, there was space for each of them to have their own room. It was lovely and really odd, both at the same time.

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Lucy had mixed feelings about everything at the moment. Gran’s house was beautiful with a big garden, not like the tiny garden she’d had back home, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the old house. They had been to Gran’s loads of times, of course, but always as visitors. Living there was going to be strange and different. The house didn’t feel like it was their home yet, even though Dad had explained that he’d bought half of it from Gran. They were all going to share. Gran would help look after Lucy and William, and Dad would sort out the wild, overgrown garden that had got too much for Gran recently, and they would all be company for each other.

It would be good for Dad, Lucy thought, resting her chin on her hands as she stared down at the trees. For the last five years, ever since their mum had died, he’d looked after her and William by himself. He’d had a little help from childminders, but mostly he had been in charge of everything. Now he would have Gran to help and maybe he wouldn’t be so worried all the time. It was hard when he had to stay late at work and missed picking up Lucy and William from after-school clubs, or the childminder, or their friends’ houses.

Lucy swallowed hard. They wouldn’t be going back to their after-school clubs. They weren’t even going back to their old school – Gran’s house was too far away. On Monday, she and William would be starting all over again at a new school. Lucy wasn’t looking forward to it.

“It’ll be all right,” Lucy whispered to herself. “It was nice when we went to see it.” The teacher had been friendly and smiley, William had loved the big climbing frame in the playground and it was only a five-minute walk from Gran’s house. But it was new and different, and even thoughthere would be a coat peg ready with her name on it and a drawer for her books in the classroom, Lucy knew she didn’t really belong there, not yet.

Something stirred among the trees. Lucy squinted sideways, trying to work out what it was. A bird? Then she smiled. A large ginger cat was walking carefully along the fence, padding from paw to paw, slow and stately. He must belong next door, Lucy thought. Gran didn’t have a cat. She didn’t have any pets, even though this would be the perfect house for one with its lovely big garden. Lucy thought Gran’s beautifully tidy living room would look a lot nicer with a cat draped along the back of the sofa, or curled up on the rug.

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But Dad had told them that Gran didn’t like pets. She thought they were too messy, and caused fuss and dirt and work. Lucy wished she could argue with Gran and say what about purring and how a cat could keep your feet warm on a cold night? But you couldn’t start that sort of an argument with your gran – not her gran, anyway. She wasn’t an arguing sort of person. Lucy loved her, but Gran was one of those people who knew she was always right. And she was the one who would be doing most of the tidying up, too!

“Lucy!”

It was William! Lucy spun round, hearing the wobbly tearful note in his voice.“What’s the matter?” she asked worriedly.

“Gran shouted at me,” William sniffed. He sat down on the floor, leaning against Lucy’s bed. His face was muddy, except for two little trails where tears had run down.

“Why?” Lucy sat next to him and put her arm round his shoulders.

William snuggled into her.“I was playing football in the garden and then I brought the ball back in with me and I bounced it…”

“Oh, William! Where?” Lucy demanded and he edged away from her a little, hunching his shoulders up.

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“In the living room.”

“You didn’t break anything, did you?” Lucy asked anxiously. Dad had made them promise to be careful, but William was only six and sometimes he just forgot things like that.

“No!” William protested indignantly. “But Gran was still really cross. She said I wasn’t to kick balls around in the house, but I hadn’t even kicked it! I was just bouncing it.” He sighed and leaned back on her shoulder again, peering around Lucy’s room at the cardboard boxes, alreadynearly all unpacked.

“Do you like having your own bedroom?” he whispered seriously.

Lucy nodded.“Yes… But last night I missed hearing you talking to your Lego people,” she added, to make him feel better.

“I do like my bedroom.” William didn’t sound so sure. “But do you think I could keep all my things in my room, then sleep up here with you? I could bring my sleeping bag.”

“Maybe sometimes,” Lucy said comfortingly. It had been strange going to bed last night without William snoring and snuffling on the other side of the room, but she was glad to have a place that was just her own.

All her own, except that it would be so nice to share it with a cat. Any cat, Lucy thought, wondering if the big ginger cat from next door ever came to visit.

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The black-and-white kitten peered around the pile of old boxes. Her ears were laid back flat and her tail was twitching. Out in the alleyway between the baker’s shop and newsagent, she could see her brother and sister frisking about, chasing each other and wrestling. Her paws itched to join in. She stepped out a little further.

Then a car roared past on the main road and she darted back into her hiding place in the storage yard. Seconds later, her tabby brother and sister shot back in after her and they all huddled together in the dark little corner, hissing at the strange, frightening noise. The two tabby kittens wriggled and stamped their paws inside a broken packing case, making themselves comfy on the old rags and torn-up papers, trying to find the warmest, driest spot. The black-and-white kitten licked them both lovingly, hoping that they’d all curl up together and snooze, as they waited for their mother to come back from her foraging. But the tabby kittens didn’t want to hide for long. A minute or so later they were already nosing out into the alleyway again.

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Their little sister watched them anxiously, wondering about that loud noise and hoping that whatever it was wouldn’t come back. The alleyway was so open – she liked places where she could hide and still see everything. All that space made her nervous.

“Oh, look! Kittens!”

A little boy came running into the alleyway and the tabby kittens streaked back towards the old boxes, knocking their black-and-white sister sideways. She huddled at the back of their little den, her heart thumping, but the bravest of the tabbies was too curious to stay hidden, even with the boy blundering around, his feet stamping and thudding. She scrambled out past the broken board on to the top of the box and gazed at him.

“Mum, look…” the little boy whispered. “It really is a kitten! She’s tiny!”

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“Isn’t she? She’s gorgeous.”

The black-and-white kitten squeaked worriedly. There was someone else out there, too. She wished her sister would come back, but now her brother was wriggling out to see what was going on.

“Oh, there’s two! Look, Owen, the other one’s come out to see you. I wonder who they belong to? I suppose they’re strays, but they look very young. Their mother must be around somewhere.”

The voices were soft and gentle, and the black-and-white kitten stretched her paws, shook her whiskers and began to creep towards the opening. Perhaps she would go and see what was happening.

But then the little boy shrieked with laughter, as kitten whiskers tickled his fingers. The kitten ran back and buried herself among the rags again. At last she heard their footsteps echoing back down the alleyway and she relaxed a bit. Then a tabby-striped face pushed in through the gap between the boxes and she darted forward to nuzzle happily at her mother. The thin tabby cat had been hiding out of the way until the little boy and his mum had gone. She had always been a stray and she wasn’t very fond of people. People meant food, but sometimes they threw things and shouted at her for scrabbling around in bins. She avoided them as much as she could.

The tabby kittens piled in after her and tore at the ham sandwich she’d found for them, scrapping and hissing over the delicious pieces of ham. The kittens were eight weeks old and they were all still drinking her milk as well as eating food, but they were always hungry.

The black-and-white kitten finished her piece of sandwich and snuggled luxuriously up against her mother. She was warm and safe and full of food. Her brother and sister flopped down on top of her in a softly purring pile of fur and all four of them curled up to sleep.

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“So, what was it like?” Gran asked, smiling at Lucy, as they walked home from school on Monday. She didn’t need to ask how school had been for William. He was bouncing around the pavement in front of them with his new best friend, Harry, doing ninja kicks.

“It was all right,” Lucy said, not very enthusiastically. It was true. No one had been mean and she’d understood the work they were doing. Emma, the girl who’d been told to look after her, had been nice and had made sure she knew where everything was.

But she’d stayed on the sidelines of all the games. And everyone knew secret jokes about the teachers that she didn’t and there was no one who knew all the fun things about her, the things her friends back home knew. She was just a rather boring new girl.

Gran put an arm round her shoulders.“It’ll get better, Lucy, I promise. In a month’s time, it won’t feel like a new school any more.”

Lucy blinked. She hadn’t expected Gran to notice that she wasn’t really happy. “I suppose so,” she murmured and smiled gratefully at Gran.

“Why don’t we stop in at the baker’s and get a treat? To celebrate school being just about all right?” Gran suggested.

William turned round mid-air and came racing back to them, saying goodbye to Harry.“Cakes? Can we? Can I have a marshmallow ice cream?”

Gran made a face.“I suppose so. I don’t know how you can eat those things, though.”

“It’s really easy,” William told her solemnly and Lucy giggled, feeling the nervous lump inside her melt away for the first time that day.

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It was as they were coming out of the baker’s shop, each clutching a rustling paper bag, that Lucy first saw the kittens. She wondered afterwards if they’d heard the bags crinkling, and were hoping that she and William might drop some food.

She’d seen a flash out of the corner of her eye, a darting movement in the alleyway. Lucy almost didn’t stop to look at first – she’d thought that it was probably just pigeons, hopping about after crumbs – but then something had made her turn back and look properly.

The soft grey shadows peering out behind the bins had been cats!No, kittens. Tiny kittens, two of them, their green eyes round and huge in little striped faces.

Lucy reached out her hand to grab at William, who was explaining very seriously to Gran that it was important to eat a marshmallow cone from the bottom up, as then you got to save the marshmallow for last.

“Ow! What?”

“Look…” Lucy whispered, pulling him closer so that he’d see. “But shh!”

“What am I looking at and you didn’t have to grab me, Lucy, Dad says— Oh!”

Gran peered over their heads.“Please tell me that’s not a rat.”

“They’re kittens, Gran. Can we go and take a closer look? Please?”

Gran looked at the shops on either side of the alleyway.“Well, I shouldn’t think they’ll mind. Don’t go into the yard, though, and don’t touch them.”

Lucy and William crept down the alley, holding hands. The little tabby kittens stared at them from behind the wheelie bins. They were crouched low to the ground, ready to spring away to safety, but they stayed still as the children came closer.

When they were almost at the bins, Lucy knelt down, gently pulling William with her.

“Can’t we go closer?” he begged.

“Not yet,” she whispered back. “When I went to Jessie’s house, her cat was really shy and I had to sit like this for ages, but then he climbed into my lap and let me cuddle him. Jessie says he never does that.” Suddenly, Lucy was blinking away tears, thinking of Jessie and all her friendsback home.

“They’re coming closer.” William poked her arm impatiently. “Look!”

Lucy dragged her hand across her eyes. It was true– one of the kittens had padded all the way out now – he was almost close enough to sniff at William’s outstretched fingers.

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Then, all at once, he darted forward and dabbed his nose at William’s hand.

William squeaked delightedly,“His nose is all cold and damp!”

The kitten disappeared back behind the bins in a blur.

“Sorry!” William whispered.

But it only took seconds for the kitten to be brave enough to peek out again, and this time the other tabby kitten followed him, sniffing curiously at Lucy’s school shoes.

Very slowly, Lucy reached out and stroked the kitten’s stripey head with the tips of her fingers – the fur was so soft, almost silky. And then the kitten purred, so loudly that Lucy couldn’t help giggling. The noise seemed too big for such a tiny creature.

“I wonder where their mother is,” Lucy murmured to William, looking down the alley to see if the mother cat was watching them playing with her babies.

“Are they lost?” William asked worriedly.

“No,” Gran said quietly behind them. “I was just talking to Emma – the girl from the baker’s. She said that they live in the yard – there’s a pile of old boxes and things. She’s been putting some food down for them.”

“They live in abox?” Lucy said, thinking how cold it had been the night before.

Gran nodded.“Yes. But apparently a couple of her regular customers are thinking of trying to adopt these two, once they’re big enough to leave their mother. That won’t be long.”

“Gran, there’s another one!” Lucy gasped. “I was looking for their mum, but there’s a kitten peeping out of that old box! A black-and-white one!”

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“So there is!” Gran looked over to where Lucy was pointing. “That’s odd, the lady in the shop only mentioned the two tabbies. Maybe that little one isn’t as friendly as the others. I’m sorry, you two, we have to be off. I need to get dinner ready.” She smiled down at Lucy’s disappointed face. “I’m sure they’ll still be here tomorrow…”

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They were late the next morning, because William had spilled half a bowl of cereal down his school uniform, so there was no time to stop and play with kittens. Lucy looked down the alleyway hopefully on their way to school, but she couldn’t see even a whisker. She imagined all the kittens having a lie-in, curled up snugly in their old box.

When they stopped on the way home, Emma, the lady from the baker’s, was there, putting some rubbish out in the bins. She smiled at Lucy and William and said, “Are you looking for those kittens? I’m really sorry, that lady I was telling your gran about came and took them home with her this morning.”

“Oh…” Lucy swallowed. William’s eyes had filled with tears and she felt like crying, too. She nudged her little brother. “That’s good,” she said firmly, trying to convince herself as well as William. “It’s getting colder now it’s autumn. Imagine sleeping outside in a box all winter.”

Gran nodded.“It would be horrible. Damp and chilly. They’re much better off with a nice home indoors.”

“I know.” William sniffed. “But I wanted to see them. We only got to see them once.”

“I’ll miss them,” Emma said, as Lucy and William turned to go. “Cute little pair. Gorgeous stripes.”

Lucy glanced back at her.“But – there was a black-and-white kitten, too. Did she take all three of them?”

Emma blinked.“Three? Really? I thought there were only two of them.”

“No.” Lucy shook her head. “Definitely three. We saw the black-and-white one yesterday.”

“She’s right,” Gran put in. “I saw her, too. She reminded me of the cat I had when I was a little girl, called Catkin. This kitten had the same lovely white tip on her tail.”

Lucy glanced at William in surprise. Gran had had a cat of her own? But she didn’t like pets, Dad had said.

William wasn’t really listening, though. “Gran, is the little kitten left all on her own now?”

“Her mum’s still there,” Emma pointed out.

“No other kittens to play with, though,” Lucy said sadly.

William beamed at her.“Maybe she’ll come and play with us instead, then, if she’s lonely.” He ran a few steps further down the alley and called, “Puss! Puss! Kitten!”

“She won’t come out if you yell at her,” Lucy said. “We’ve got to be gentle. Maybe tempt her out. Could we buy some cat treats, Gran?”

“I suppose so.” Gran nodded. “Maybe if that kitten gets a bit more used to people, someone will take her home, too.”

Lucy caught her breath. She almost asked Gran if they could be the ones to give the kitten a home. But then she remembered everything Dad had said about having to keep the house tidy and not damaging Gran’s lovely things and how Gran hated mess. And then she thought about Jessie’s mum rolling her eyes and sighing and saying, “Oh, not again!” when Jessie’s cat Socks had knocked a vase of flowers off the kitchen table.

There was no way Gran would let them have a cat, even if the kitten did look like her old pet, Catkin.

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Lucy frowned down at her magazine. It was her favourite one, a pet magazine that she got every week. She’d brought it into school to read at break time. Everyone was still being quite friendly, but she hated having to ask to join in the games. It was embarrassing. It was easier to sit on one of the benches and read.

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This week’s magazine had a big article on animal charities and an interview with the manager of a Cats Protection League shelter. She was talking about how important it was to find cats new homes quickly, as they didn’t really like being kept all together. They wanted a place to call their own. Lucy sighed to herself as she thought of the black-and-white kitten.

But the really strange thing was that the Cats Protection League lady also said that black cats and black-and-white ones were much harder to find homes for than tabbies or gingers. Lucy just couldn’t understand why. The article said that people thought black-and-white cats were a bit ordinary, not pretty like tabbies.

It made Lucy so cross that she almost tore the page, she was gripping it so tightly. How could people think that? All cats and kittens were different! Jessie’s cat Socks was white, with a ginger tail and a funny ginger stripe down his nose. But that didn’t mean he was a better pet than the little black-and-white kitten would be.

The article also said that some people didn’t want cats that were black all over because they were worried that they might not be seen on the road, and could get run over. At least that made sense, Lucy thought. But they could always get their black cat a reflective collar, couldn’t they?

“If I ever get a cat, I’m definitely going to a shelter and choosing a black-and-white one,” she murmured. “Or a lovely black cat. Like a witch’s cat.”

“Is it good?”

Lucy jumped so hard she nearly banged her head on the back of the bench and the girl leaning over to talk to her gasped.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. I get that magazine sometimes, too. I was just wondering if it was a good one this week.”

“Oh!” Lucy nodded and smiled. “Yes. But sort of sad. There’s a big bit about shelters. And it says not many people choose the black cats. I was just thinking I definitely would.”

“Oh, me, too,” the other girl agreed.

Lucy thought frantically, trying to remember her name. There were loads of girls in her class, but she thought this one was called Sara.“Our cat’s mostly black, but he’s got a white front and white paws. My mum says he looks like he’s wearing a penguin suit.” She leaned over and looked at the article. “What’s that about National Black Cat Day?”

Lucy looked at the bubble down near the bottom of the page. She hadn’t got there yet. “The Cats Protection League invented it! To show everyone that black cats are special. It’s in October – oh, the same day as Halloween. I suppose that makes sense. But black cats aren’t all spooky.”

Sara giggled.“They’re good at appearing out of nowhere, though. I’m always tripping over Harvey.”

“Aw, that’s such a cute name for a cat.” Lucy smiled.

“He just looks like a Harvey,” Sara explained. “Even when he was a kitten, there was something Harvey-ish about him. Have you got a cat?” she added, looking at Lucy sideways. There was something hopeful about the way she asked it, as though she wanted someone to share cat stories with. A friend who had a cat of her own – what could be better than that?

It was the first time someone had really seemed interested in her at school. If she said no, Sara would shrug and smile and walk away, Lucy was sure of it. And she was just as sure that she didn’t want that to happen. So she nodded, slowly, trying to think about what to say. “Yes. We’ve got a kitten.” She slipped her hand under the magazine and crossed her fingers. She hated to lie, especially to someone as nice as Sara, but she had to. “We’ve only just got her.” It was almost true, wasn’t it? She wanted that little black-and-white kitten from the alleyway to be theirs, so much…

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“Oh, you’re so lucky! Is she gorgeous? What does she look like? How old is she?”

Lucy swallowed.“She’s black and white, like Harvey. And she’s very little, only just old enough to leave her mother. She was a stray.”

“What’s she called?” Sara demanded eagerly.

Lucy blinked. She couldn’t think. Not a single name would come into her head. What was a good name for a kitten?

Then she smiled at Sara. She knew the perfect name, of course she did.

“She’s called Catkin.”

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“What’s the matter, Lucy?” Gran looked up from her book and peered across the table at her granddaughter’s pile of books. “You haven’t written anything for ages.”

“It’s a project.” Lucy sighed. “It’s difficult. It’s about Egyptians and we can make the project about whatever we like – that’s what’s so hard about it. I can’t choose, even though I’ve got all these books out of the library.”

And, of course, only half her mind was on her project. The rest of it was worrying about having lied to Sara two days ago. Especially as Sara was really, really excited. She kept asking about Catkin, and she obviously really wanted to come and see her. But she was too nice– or maybe too shy – to ask straight out if she could come round. Lucy had a feeling that she was working herself up to it, though.

The awful thing was, Lucy would have liked Sara to come round. She’d love to have a friend home for tea. Gran and Dad kept gently asking if there was anyone she really liked at school and if she wanted to invite somebody over. William had had Harry round and been back to his house, too. And he’d been invited to a birthday party already.

But if Sara came round, then she’d know that Lucy had been lying about Catkin and she’d hate her. She might even tell the entire class that Lucy was a liar.

“I went to Egypt, you know,” Gran said thoughtfully, breaking into Lucy’s thoughts. “It must have been, oh, goodness, eight, ten years ago? Yes, just before you were born, Lucy. We went to see the pyramids, me and one of my old schoolfriends. Auntie Barbara, you remember her?”

Lucy didn’t, but she nodded as if she did. “You really went there? What was it like? Did you go and see the Great Pyramid?”

“We certainly did. We went inside it, as well. It was quite frightening,” Gran added slowly. “Very shadowy and hard to breathe. I didn’t like it much, Lucy, I have to admit, but I’m glad I saw it. And from the outside, they were incredible to look at. Wait a minute.” She smiled and got up, walking through into the living room. Lucy could hear her opening drawers in the big display cabinet that had most of her precious, ever-so-breakable ornaments in it.

Gran came back in, carefully unrolling a piece of brownish paper.“Look, this is what I brought back as a souvenir of the holiday, Lucy. It’s a papyrus. Like paper, but made out of reeds.” She held it out. “You can take it, have a look.”

Lucy looked at her uncertainly.“Isn’t it fragile?” she asked worriedly. She wanted to hold it – she could see that the painting on it was beautiful, a black cat wearing a jewelled necklace and even an earring, it looked like.

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“I know you’ll be careful.” Gran smiled at her. “I ought to get it framed, really, it’s such a lovely painting. The box at the side says my name in hieroglyphics. I watched the man doing it.”

Lucy took the papyrus, feeling the roughness against her fingers. She could even see the lines of the reed stems in the weave.“The cat’s so beautiful,” she murmured. Then she grinned up at Gran. “I can’t see many cats agreeing to wear all that jewellery, though. Most of them don’t even like collars!”

Gran nodded.“But then she’s a goddess, this one. Bast, she’s called.”

Lucy examined the picture again.“There was a cat goddess? Wow… Gran, I could make my project about her!” Very carefully, she laid the papyrus down on the table so she could fling her arms around her gran. “I could copy the painting, maybe. You’re so clever!”

As she hugged Gran tightly, Lucy realized something else. Gran couldn’t possibly dislike cats that much, could she? Not when she’d chosen a painting of a cat as a special souvenir.

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The black-and-white kitten was enjoying a patch of sunlight in the yard. Her mother was off looking for food and the little kitten was stretched out, snoozing, with her nose on her paws.

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Her ears fluttered a little as she caught a noise, coming from the back of one of the shops, and then her eyes snapped open. Someone was coming!

She darted back into the safety of the box den, her heart thudding fast against her ribs. The voices were loud, frightening even, and there were heavy feet clumping all around her.

She pressed herself back into the corner of the box, thinking that they would just dump their rubbish in the bins and go. But no one usually came close to the pile of old boxes like this. It wasn’t a delivery – no van had driven down the alleyway. She was almost used tothat noise, although she still didn’t like it.

This was something different. And then suddenly the box, her safe, warm box, shifted and split and she let out a high-pitched squeak of fright. What was happening?

“There’s something in there,” a deep voice growled. “Ugh, not rats?”

“I don’t think so – oh, there’s a stray cat that hangs around the yard – perhaps it’s her?”

Someone clapped their hands loudly, the sound sharp and echoing in the enclosed yard.“Go on, shoo! Off you go, cat!”

The kitten squeaked again and her box tipped sideways. She shot out, terrified, and streaked across the yard, away from the growling voices.

“There she goes – but that’s just a kitten. Not much bigger than a rat, poor little thing!”

The kitten huddled in the corner, panicking. Someone was coming towards her, huge boots thumping. She had never tried to climb the fences before, but anything was better than staying here. She sank her claws in the wood and scrabbled frantically upwards, balancing for a moment on the very top of the fence. Then she jumped down the other side and set off through the bushes, who knew where.

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Lucy was stretched out in the long grass, idly picking the blades. She’d done her homework and typed up loads of work for her project on the computer. She felt relaxed and happy in the autumn sun. Gran had given her a sandwich, to keep her going until Dad got home and they could all have dinner together, but Lucy hadn’t finished it – she was feeling too lazy even to eat.

She could hear William right down the end of the garden, humming to himself as he investigated the greenhouse. Gran didn’t use it very much these days and some of the glass panes were broken, but Dad had told them he’d plant seeds in the springtime. He’d already tidied up the bit of the garden nearest to the house, but Lucy and William loved this wild part, with the overgrown bushes. It was full of hidden nests and little dark caves. Lucy glanced sideways, checking that the big spotted garden spider hanging off the branch by her foot hadn’t moved. She didn’t mind him being there – he’d probably lived here longer than she had – but she didn’t want him getting any closer.

He was still there. But underneath him, peering out at her from the shadows, was a tiny black-and-white face.

A kitten! The same kitten she had seen in the alleyway, Lucy was almost sure. She looked down the garden at the greenhouse and the fence. She hadn’t realized before, but the shops were very close to the back of Gran’s garden, even though to get to them by the street you had to go quite a way round.

“Did you climb over the fence?” Lucy whispered, very, very quietly.

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The kitten stared back at her. She was very small and so thin, Lucy thought. She looked exhausted– as though she was frightened, but too worn out even to run.

Slowly, creeping her fingers across the grass, Lucy stretched out a hand to get her sandwich. It was chicken. Perfect for a kitten treat.

The kitten watched her, wide-eyed, shrinking back a little as Lucy’s hand came close. But then she smelled the chicken – Lucy could see the exact moment. Her whiskers twitched and her ears flicked forward, then her eyes grew even rounder.

Lucy tore off a tiny piece of sandwich and gently laid it down, just where the tufts of long grass met the branches. Then she watched. The kitten didn’t have to move far. If she wasn’t brave enough, maybe Lucy could throw her a piece further in, but that might scare her away.

The kitten looked at the piece of sandwich and Lucy could see her sniffing. She looked between Lucy and the sandwich a few times, then she wriggled forwards on her stomach, inching slowly towards the food. As soon as she was close enough, she seized the chickeny mouthful and darted back into the safety of the bush.

Lucy wanted to laugh, but she folded her lips together firmly, in case the noise scared the kitten away. She watched the kitten wolf down the scrap and then she tore off a little more. This time she left it a bit closer to her feet.

The kitten didn’t take as long to decide she was going for the food the second time. She gave Lucy one slightly suspicious look and then raced to grab it.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_22]

After that, Lucy put the plate down, right next to her feet, to see what would happen. Surely the kitten wouldn’t be able to drag away a whole sandwich, would she? She’d have to stop by the plate and eat it there. And then maybe Lucy would be able to stroke her…

The kitten stared at the sandwich. The two pieces she’d already eaten had been so delicious. But now the rest of the sandwich was closer to the girl and she wasn’t sure that she was quite brave enough to go and take it.

But the smell… She could taste it in her mouth still and she was really hungry. She hadn’t eaten for such a long time. After she had scrambled over the fence the afternoon before, she had run and climbed and run again, frightened and desperate to get away. Her cosy den in the box had suddenly been snatched from her and she didn’t understand. She just knew that she wasn’t safe there any more.

She had only stopped in the big garden because she was tired. Wriggling through the tiny gap under the back fence had worn her out. She had simply lain down in the dry, shadowy space under the bush and gone to sleep. When she’d woken, it had been dark and she had been so hungry. She’d finally understood that everything was different now. Her mother wasn’t there to bring her food and there was no one there to curl up and sleep with. She was lost and all alone.

She had been on her own before, of course she had. But she had always known that her mother would come back. The kitten would purr throatily, and her mother would wash her, licking her fur lovingly all over.

Now her fur was dusty and matted with dirt, and a clump of it had torn out when she had squeezed under the fence. She had sat there below the bush and tried to wash herself, but it wasn’t the same and it only made her feel more lonely.

The night sounds seemed louder than they’d ever been before. Cars roared past and made her shudder with fright, and people laughed and shouted. Another cat had stalked through the garden, late at night, but it hadn’t been her mother. She had jumped up eagerly, ready to run and nuzzle it, but all it had done was stare at her and she’d seen it thicken out its tail. Then it had paced on, away down the side of the house and the kitten had ducked back under the bush, knowing that she was more lost than ever.

As Lucy pursed her lips and tried to make kitten-encouraging noises that sounded something likeprrrrrrp, the kitten stared back at her and wondered what to do. The girl seemed quiet and gentle, not like those stomping men that had chased her away from her home. And she had food. Just now, food seemed the most important thing of all.

Slowly, paw by paw, the kitten came out of her hiding place and crept towards Lucy.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_23]

[Êàðòèíêà: img_24]

“Lucy…”

“Shh!”

“Lucy, is that a kitten? Is that the kitten from by the baker’s shop?”

“Yes, butshh! Please don’t make her run away. She’s really shy, William. Look, come and sit down here.”

William sat down, as slowly and quietly as he could, and stared at the kitten. She stared back for a moment, but she was so busy devouring the rest of the chicken sandwich that she didn’t really have time to worry about him.

“How did she get here?”

“I don’t know.” Lucy reached out one hand and held it by the plate, close enough for the kitten to sniff. The kitten glared at her and then butted gently at Lucy’s hand.

William giggled.“She’s telling you to get off her sandwich.”

“Maybe. Or she might be putting her scent on me,” said Lucy. “That’s what a cat’s doing when it rubs its face against you. They’ve got scent glands there. They’re saying we belong to them.”I want to belong to you, she added silently.Please stay. Please, please, please.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_25]

“Lucy,” William whispered. “Do you think – do you think she could be our cat? Can we keep her?” He looked around the garden. “We could make her a nest in the greenhouse. Wow, she’s actually finished all of that sandwich. Do you think she wants another one? Gran asked if I wanted a sandwich but I said no. I could go and say that I’ve changed my mind…”

Lucy looked worried.“I don’t like telling Gran lies – but we can’t tell her the truth, can we? Dad said she wouldn’t want a pet in the house. And this kitten really needs food. She’s so skinny.”

“The greenhouse isn’t the same as being in the house,” William pointed out. “I bet she wouldn’t mind. So it doesn’t matter if we don’t tell her.”

Lucy couldn’t help thinking that itdid matter, and that they were just twisting things around to be the way they wanted– but she wouldn’t be able to bear it if Gran made them take the kitten back to the alleyway. The greenhouse would be like a palace to a kitten who was used to living in a box. And Gran didn’t usually go down to the end of the garden. It would be all right.

And if she really had a kitten, she wouldn’t be lying to Sara any more.

“Yes.” She nodded. “Go and ask Gran if you can have a sandwich. With lots of chicken.”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_10]

“Oh dear, what’s the matter with that poor little girl?” Gran speeded up as they made their way home from school. She hurried down the pavement towards a toddler, standing outside the baker’s shop next to a little scooter and howling. “I hope she’s not lost.”

“She isn’t, Gran, look, I can see her mum coming.” Lucy pointed to a lady running towards the little girl.

“Good.” Gran bent over the little girl. “What happened, sweetheart? Did you fall off your scooter?”

The little girl stared back at her and shook her head. She stopped crying.

Gran smiled at the little girl’s mother, who had reached them at last and was now crouched next to her daughter, hugging her and all out of breath. “I’m sorry, we didn’t see what happened, but she says she didn’t fall.”

“Mummy! The cat!” And the little girl began to howl again.

“Oh, Macey! Did you try and stroke a cat? Did he scratch you?”

The little girl nodded and wailed louder, holding up her arm towards her mum.

Lucy sucked in her breath through her teeth– Macey had a long scratch down the inside of her arm. It wasn’t bleeding very much, but it obviously hurt.

“Some cats are just grumpy, Macey. You know I said not to chase after them.” Her mum sighed. “Don’t worry, baby. We’ll go home and put one of your teddy-bear plasters on it.”

Lucy bit her lip. It probably wasn’t the right time to say that the cat must have been scared if the little girl had tried to grab it.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_26]

“It was probably that stray tabby that lives down the end of the alleyway,” Gran said. “Stray cats can be very wild and fierce.”

Lucy and William exchanged glances, thinking of the little black-and-white kitten, curled up in the greenhouse back at home. They’d made her a cosy nest out of one of the cardboard boxes they’d had for packing up their things, tipped on its side and lined with an old sweatshirt of Lucy’s. Then they’d laid the kitten a trail of chicken sandwich pieces to show her where the greenhouse was.

Lucy and William had done their best to make it into the nicest den a kitten could have. They’d even made her a litter tray, out of an old seed tray they’d found on one of the greenhouse shelves – it had been full of dusty earth. Lucy had a feeling the kitten might not know what it was for, as she was a stray and used to weeing anywhere, but if she was going to be an indoor cat one day, it was important to try. William had brought her a plant saucer full of water from the outside tap, as well.

That morning, before they went to school, Lucy had nipped out with some Weetabix and milk. It wasn’t the best thing for a kitten, she knew, but they didn’t have any proper cat food. Anyway, the kitten hadn’t seemed to mind. She had buried her face in it eagerly and when Lucy finally had to go, the kitten had been blissfully licking milky gunge off her whiskers.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_27]

She hadn’t looked very wild and fierce at all. She was still shy, of course. But when Lucy had arrived with the bowl, she hadn’t run away, or hidden herself behind the wobbly towers of flowerpots. Instead, she’d just pricked her ears, wary, but hopeful.

Lucy and William lagged behind Gran for the rest of the way home.“Did you hear what Gran said about stray cats being fierce?” William asked anxiously.

Lucy nodded.“I know. I was really wishing we could tell her about Catkin.”

“Catkin?” William blinked in surprise. “You named her?” He frowned a little. Lucy could tell he was hurt that she’d given the kitten a name without talking to him.

“Gran used to have a black-and-white cat called Catkin,” Lucy explained. “She was telling me about her. It’s a really sweet name and I thought that maybe if we called the kitten Catkin, too, it would remind her of it. But now Gran’s thinking about nasty fierce cats instead. It’s the worst timing ever.”

“Ohhh.” William nodded. “I see. But our Catkin’s sweet, Lucy. She’s not fierce at all. Gran will see that, won’t she?”

“Mmmm. But let’s not tell her just yet that we’ve got Catkin in the greenhouse. She’ll have to go on being our secret kitten. And don’t tell Dad, either!”

“Come on, you two!” Gran called back. “It’s starting to rain.”

Lucy and William sped up, the first fat drops splashing on to the pavement as they dashed after Gran.

“What if she gets wet?” William hissed. “The greenhouse has got all those big holes in the roof! She’ll get wet!”

“You’re right,” Lucy muttered back. She smiled at William. “You know that big old wardrobe in my bedroom… Perhaps we could hide her in there?”

“Why not my bedroom?” William said.

“Because you haven’t got a wardrobe, just drawers. And because your bedroom’s next to Dad’s! Mine’s up those creaky stairs and I can always hear people coming. So I’ve got time to hide a kitten in my wardrobe before they get to the top, you see?”

“I suppose so.” William sighed heavily.

Lucy smiled to herself, imagining falling asleep tonight with the faint sound of purring echoing out from her wardrobe. Or maybe even a small furry ball of kitten on the end of her bed.“I hope she understands we’re trying to help,” Lucy said suddenly. “She might not want to come inside. She’s probably never been in a house before.” Lucy had thought they’d be able to tempt Catkin inside gradually. She’d never thought of doing it so soon.

William grinned at her.“I think if you gave her a chicken sandwich she’d probably go anywhere!”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_28]

“Distract Gran! Show her your cut knee,” Lucy muttered, thinking of Macey and her scratch. She had the wet kitten and her old sweatshirt bundled up in her arms and there was a lot of squeaking and wriggling going on. She’d taken the cold sausages from her lunch box (she’d saved them on purpose) and they’d nipped outside while Gran was taking off her coat and changing into her slippers. Catkin had been so excited about the sausages, she’d hardly minded when Lucy had picked her up. But now Lucy needed a clear run upstairs. “Go in the utility room… Pretend you’re looking for the first-aid box. Quick!” The armful of sweatshirt was wriggling like mad. “It’s all right, Catkin. Just a tiny bit longer.”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_29]

William nipped in through the back door and then into the utility room. If he could get Gran to follow him in there, she wouldn’t see Lucy dash past.

“Gran! My knee’s bleeding! Can you get me a plaster? I fell over at school.”

Lucy could hear Gran bustling through the kitchen and then the squeak of the utility-room door. It was on Dad’s DIY list to oil that door, so she was glad he hadn’t done it yet. Huddling Catkin close, she darted through the kitchen, into the hallway and up the stairs.

Up in her room, she kicked the door gently shut and put her bundle down on the floor. Catkin shook her way out of the sweatshirt looking indignant and hissed faintly at Lucy.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_30]

“Sorry,” Lucy whispered back. “I couldn’t let Gran see you. And it’s really pouring with rain out there now. I bet your box is soggy already. I’ll make you a new bed, look.”

She grabbed another cardboard box off the teetering pile in the corner of her room and put it sideways in the bottom of her wardrobe, shoving all her shoes to one side. Catkin was still standing on the sweatshirt, so Lucy made a nest shape out of her woolly winter scarf and put that in the box instead. Then she put the last half of sausage down in front of the box, too. It was still sitting in one of Gran’s neat little plastic lunch pots, which made a perfect cat-food bowl.

“I’ll get you some water in a minute,” Lucy promised. “And the litter tray. Your things are just outside the back door. William brought them in from the greenhouse.”

She looked at her kitten home thoughtfully and then at Catkin, who had slunk under her bed. The kitten looked worried.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_31]

“I know it’s strange,” Lucy told her quietly. “But we’re nice. Really. And there’s more sausage, look.” She tapped her fingernails against the wardrobe door to make Catkin look and then tipped up the lunch pot to show her. “Did you want another chicken sandwich instead? Are they your favourite? They’re my favourite, too.”

Catkin edged out from under the bed, sniffing. She was confused. But she had never had so much food before– her brother and sister had always fought for more of their mother’s milk and the same with the scraps. It wasn’t just the sandwiches and the cereal or the sausages, either – the two children had been so gentle. Lucy and William had whispered to her and tried to purr at her and that morning Lucy had run one finger softly all down her back, which had made her quiver. It had been strange and different, but she had liked it. And now there was another soft box bed and more food. She liked being inside, all warm and dry. So she padded cautiously across the room and stopped to sniff at Lucy’s fingers. Then she butted her head up against Lucy’s hand and went to nibble daintily at the sausage in the pot.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_32]

Lucy sat watching her, smiling to herself. Her own kitten. In her own bedroom. Almost, anyway.

Then she froze. The steps up to her room were creaking. She was just sitting forward, ready to scoop Catkin further into the wardrobe and close the door, when she heard William hissing,“It’s only me! I’ve got the tray!”

Lucy wriggled back slowly and went to open the door.“You star! How did you do that?”

“Gran’s on the phone to Auntie Susie. She’ll be ages. Angel Katie got a distinction in her ballet exam.” Angel Katie was what they called their perfect little cousin. “Gran was in the living room and she didn’t see me at all. I’ve got the water, too.”

“That’s brilliant. Look, if I move my shoes and put them under my desk instead, we can put the litter tray in the corner of the wardrobe. And this newspaper I used to wrap my photo frames can go underneath, just in case. Don’t worry, Catkin. We’re just making it nice for you.”

“I hope she understands what to do,” William said doubtfully. “What if she wees in the wrong place? Like, I don’t know, in your slippers?”

Lucy grinned at him.“Yuck. But actually, I don’t think I’d mind. She’s only little. I remember when you were a baby and you weed in Dad’s face when he was changing your nappy.”

William went scarlet.“You don’t! You can’t remember that, you were only little yourself.”

“Well, I remember Dad telling me about it once, anyway. I bet Catkin won’t make as much mess as a baby.”

Catkin finished the sausage and sniffed thoughtfully at the litter tray. Then she snuggled up on Lucy’s scarf and pulled the sweater over herself, almost like a blanket. She tucked her nose comfortably under her tail and, as the two children watched, she fell fast asleep.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_33]

[Êàðòèíêà: img_10]

“I hope Gran didn’t go into your room for anything today,” William whispered to Lucy, as they hurried across the playground the next afternoon. It was Friday and everyone was running and swinging their bags, eager to get home and start the weekend.

“Me, too. But I don’t think she would have done. I took all of my washing downstairs and put it in the machine for her. And Dad vacuumed my room a couple of days ago. Catkin was really good last night. She didn’t mew or anything, and she even used the litter tray. This morning she was sittingon my windowsill when I woke up, just looking out of the window.” Lucy crossed her fingers. “Look, there’s Gran by the gate. She doesn’t look cross, does she? Not like someone who’s found a kitten in a wardrobe.” They waved to Gran and she waved back, smiling.

Just then someone called out her name,“Lucy!” It was Sara.

Lucy swung round and beamed at her friend.“Hello!”

“Lucy, can I ask you a big favour?” Sara said pleadingly, as they walked towards the gate. “I live quite close to you, you know. Just a couple of streets further on. Do you think I could pop into your house for five minutes on the way home? Just to see your gorgeous kitten? Pleeease? My mum said it was fine if you said I could.”

Lucy stopped walking and swallowed hard. She so wanted to say yes. Perhaps she could even tell Sara the secret. But there wasn’t time. Gran would hear them, she was really close. In fact, she was coming towards them, smiling. She was probably about to invite Sara to come for tea.

“I-I can’t today…” Lucy whispered, her eyes darting sideways at Gran. “I’ve got – dancing.” Gran had been talking about signing her up for dance classes – there were some at the church hall, not far away. It was the first thing that came into her head.

It was just a pity that William blurted out,“I’ve got to go to football!” at the same time.

“We’ve got both,” Lucy said hurriedly. “It’s just not a good day, Friday.”

Gran was standing beside them now, looking curious, and Lucy could see Sara’s mum coming over, too.

“If you don’t want me to come—” Sara started to say, sounding a bit hurt.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_34]

“It isn’t that! I do want you to, I really do!”

“You just had to say no – I thought we were friends!”

“We are!” Lucy said anxiously. “It’s just – not today. Another day!”

Sara nodded, but she still looked really disappointed. She grabbed her mum’s hand and pulled her away down the street, leaving Lucy and William and Gran staring at each other in confusion.

“Lucy, whatever’s the matter? Wasn’t that Sara, that nice girl who lives on Foxglove Way? Have you fallen out with her?”

“Yes.” Lucy sniffed. “She wanted to come to our house.”

“Well, why didn’t you let her? She could have had dinner with us.”

“It wasn’t that. I can’t explain. Please can we go home?” Lucy reached out and took Gran’s hand. “Please.”

“All right.” But Gran still sounded worried and she kept hold of Lucy’s hand as they walked on. Lucy could tell she hadn’t finished asking about what had happened. “Lucy, was Sara asking about a kitten?” she said at last, as they walked past the alleyway. “I thought I heard her say something about visiting a kitten…”

Lucy swallowed.“But we haven’t got a kitten,” she pointed out, trying to sound cheerful.

“Lucy…” Gran pulled her hand gently to make her stop. “Just go on ahead for a minute, William. Look, you can take my keys. Go and open the front door. We’ll follow you.” She watched as William walked on ahead and then she followed, walking along slowly with Lucy’s hand held tight in hers. “Lucy, did you tell Sara you had a kitten?”

Lucy didn’t say anything. How could she explain?

Gran went on thoughtfully.“Sometimes it’s hard, when you really want to make friends – you make up stories. Little stories to make yourself sound more interesting. Everyone does it sometimes, Lucy, it’s all right.”

Lucy gaped up at her.“How did you know?”

“Like I said, everyone does it. But almost everyone gets found out, too, Lucy love. You’re going to have to explain to Sara and say you’re sorry, you know.”

Lucy kicked at the pavement with her foot.“I know,” she muttered. But inside she was saying,I didn’t make it up. It wasn’t a lie. Well, it was when I first said it. But now I’m lying to you instead… I wish we’d told you about Catkin in the first place. What am I going to do?

“Are you that desperate for a kitten?” Gran asked suddenly.

Lucy blinked, shocked out of her worries.“Um. I would love one. But Dad said you didn’t like pets. Because they were dirty.”

Gran sniffed.“Well, I do like everything to be clean,” she agreed. “But a little cat… Maybe we could think about it.”

Lucy swallowed hard and tried to smile. Somehow she had to explain to Gran that they had a little cat already…

When they got back to the house, Gran made hot chocolate and she even put marshmallows on the top, as a treat. She let Lucy and William take it upstairs, though she did say they had to be careful not to spill any.

“Dinner will be in about an hour,” she reminded them. “Your dad’s working late tonight, so we’re not waiting for him today.”

Lucy and William carried the hot chocolate upstairs to Lucy’s room, with the sandwiches they’d both saved from lunch. At the top of the steps, outside the door, they stopped and looked at each other worriedly. Somehow Lucy felt convinced that the kitten wouldn’t be there. Perhaps they had imagined it all. She reached out and turned the handle, peering cautiously around the door.

Over in the wardrobe, the kitten lifted her head and yawned. Then she looked up at them and nosed at the empty plastic pot, clearly hoping for some tea.

“Hello,” Lucy whispered, starting to shred up her sandwich. “Did you miss us?”

Catkin yawned again and, very faintly, Lucy heard her purr.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_35]

“You’re pleased to see us! You’re actually purring. Oh, Catkin. If only we could show you to Gran right now, I’m sure she’d want to keep you.” She patted Catkin’s head, loving the feeling of the silky fur under her fingers. “This weekend, somehow, we’ll find a way to tell her. We have to.”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_36]

When Lucy and William’s dad got home late that night, he sat across the kitchen table from their gran, eating his dinner.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, as he wiped a bit of bread round his plate to mop up the gravy. “You’ve hardly said anything since I got home, Mum.”

Gran sighed and put down her mug of tea.“I’m just a bit worried about Lucy. I’m not sure she’s settling all that well with the other girls at school. She had a bit of an argument with one of them this afternoon, just as I was picking her up. She didn’t want to talk about it very much, but it seems as though she’d told this girl – Sara, her name is – that we had a kitten.”

Dad stared at her.“But why on earth would she say that?”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_37]

Gran shrugged.“To fit in? To make herself a bit more exciting? We’re asking a lot of them, you know, starting at a new school.”

Dad’s shoulders slumped. “I suppose so. But I thought it was the best thing to do…”

“I still think it is.” Gran reached over and patted his hand. “But I’m wondering if a pet would help Lucy settle.”

“You don’t like pets!”

“Whatever gave you that idea? I wouldn’t want a dog, I couldn’t manage the walking, but I love cats!” Gran smiled at him, a little sadly. “Actually, I suppose we didn’t have any pets when you were younger, did we? I haven’t had a cat of my own for a long time. Not since Catkin died. He was twenty, you know, and I’d had him since I was a little girl. I didn’t want another cat for a while after that and somehow then it just never seemed to be the right time. But I wouldn’t mind a cat now. Especially with Lucy and Wiliam to help look after it.”

“Well, it would be wonderful for Lucy,” Dad agreed. “I always said no before, because we were out of the house all the time.” He got up and took his plate over to the dishwasher. “I’ll go and check on her. I know she’ll probably be asleep, but I just want to see that she’s all right…”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_10]

Catkin woke up as the morning light shone into Lucy’s room. She didn’t have any blinds yet and the morning was bright and sunny. The kitten stretched blissfully, padding her paws into a patch of sun just outside the wardrobe. Then she hunched up the other way, arching her back like a spitting witch’s cat and stepped delicately out into Lucy’s bedroom.

Lucy was still fast asleep, huddled up under her duvet, so Catkin jumped up on to the bed to sniff at her. She smelled interesting, like breakfast and warm sunshine. But she didn’t wake up when Catkin dabbed a chilly nose against her ear – only muttered and turned over, which made the duvet shift alarmingly. Catkin sprang down before she slid off and sat on the rug.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_38]

When she’d washed her ears thoroughly, both sides, she stalked off across the room. Something was different and she hadn’t quite worked out what it was. There was something in the air, something fresh and new.

The door was open!

Lucy had shut it carefully, of course, when she came upstairs to bed. But then her dad had come up to check on her. Catkin and Lucy had both been fast asleep and neither of them had seen that he had left the door ajar. Just wide enough for a small, determined paw to hook it open.

Catkin nosed her way out and started to hop carefully– front feet, then back feet – down the stairs. It felt unfamiliar. Then she trotted along the landing, sniffing curiously at the different doors. She padded into William’s room, but a wobbly pile of books slid over when she nudged it, so she darted out again and set off down the next flight of stairs to the bottom. She sniffed her way carefully down the hallway and into the kitchen.

Most of the food was shut away in cupboards, but Dad had left a loaf of bread out on the counter and Catkin could smell it. She sat on the floor, staring up and thinking…

[Êàðòèíêà: img_10]

Lucy woke up when the sunny patch from the window moved round on to her bed. She blinked sleepily, wondering why it was that she felt so happy and scared all at the same time. Then she sat up straight, remembering.

Catkin!

Today theyhad to find a way to tell Gran and Dad what had happened, and make them see that Catkin needed to stay with them.

The kitten wasn’t sitting on the windowsill the way she had been the day before, so Lucy kneeled up in bed and leaned over to peer into the wardrobe. “Catkin,” she called. “Puss, puss, puss…”

But no little kitten face appeared and Lucy’s heart began to beat faster. “Where did you go?” she murmured. She hopped out of bed and crouched down to check underneath, but there was nothing there except dust. No Catkin hiding in the cardboard boxes, or behind the little bookshelf by the door.

The open door.

Lucy gasped.“I shut it!” she whispered to herself. “I know I did. Oh no.” She hurried down the stairs, going as fast as she could on tiptoe, so as not to wake Dad or Gran. She dashed into William’s room.

“Wake up! William, wake up! Have you seen Catkin? I don’t know where she is.”

William stared at her sleepily, blinking like an owl, and then he squeaked and jumped out of bed.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_39]

“Where would she go?”

“Shh! I don’t know, maybe the kitchen?”

William nodded.“Definitely the kitchen.”

They hurried down the stairs, freezing to a stop every time one of them creaked. The house was old and they hadn’t had time to learn which stairs to step over.

“Dad’ll hear us,” Lucy whispered miserably. “Hurry up, we have to find her and get her back into my room.” She kneeled down on the kitchen floor, looking around. She hadn’t noticed how many tiny, kitten-sized hiding places there were in here before. On the chairs, under the table. Down the side of the oven. “Oh! What if she’s climbed into the washing machine?” Lucy gasped. “I read about a cat who did that once.”

But the washing machine was empty and so were all the other spots they could think of. Lucy sat down on the floor, looking helpless.“I can’t think of anywhere else,” she murmured. “All the windows are closed, aren’t they?”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_40]

William nodded.“It was cold last night. Unless – Gran always sleeps with her bedroom window open.”

A large tear spilled down the side of Lucy’s nose. “Maybe she went out that way, then. She didn’t want to stay. Catkin’s gone!”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_41]

“Whatever’s the matter with you two? Why are you up at seven o’clock on a Saturday morning?” Gran demanded. She was standing in the kitchen doorway, wrapped in her dressing gown. “Lucy, you’re crying! What’s wrong?” She put her arms around Lucy, pulling her up from the floor.

“We’ve lost her!” Lucy sobbed into Gran’s shoulder. She didn’t care about keeping Catkin a secret any more. It was too late now.

“Lost who?” Gran stared at Lucy in puzzlement and so did Dad, who’d come in behind her, looking sleepy.

“Catkin,” William explained, coming to lean against Dad’s dressing gown. “Our kitten. Lucy found her in the garden. She was in Lucy’s wardrobe, but when we woke up she’d gone.”

“You had a kitten shut in your wardrobe?” Dad said slowly.

“Not shut in,” Lucy shook her head, gulping back tears. “Just her bed was in there and her litter tray. She could go anywhere in my room. We couldn’t leave her in the greenhouse – the glass is full of holes and it was pouring with rain on Thursday night.”

Dad and Gran looked shocked.“But what were you feeding her?” Gran asked, frowning.

“Sandwiches, mostly. She loves chicken.” Lucy sniffed. “Just like me. We saved bits of our lunches for her and she was getting tame. We thought she was going to stay with us, but now she’s run away. She must have gone through your window, Gran. It’s the only one that was open.” Lucy slumped down on one of the kitchen chairs.

Gran moved slowly over to the counter to put the kettle on, tidying away the breadcrumbs and pushing shut a half-open drawer on the way.“I need a cup of tea,” she murmured. “A kitten in your wardrobe…”

“Where did she come from in the first place? That’s what I want to know,” Dad said, sitting down opposite Lucy with William on his knee.

“The alley down by the baker’s,” Lucy explained tiredly. “There were three of them – the two tabbies got adopted, but nobody cared about the little black-and-white kitten. And then she just turned up in our garden.”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_42]

“And you named her Catkin? Like my Catkin?” Gran asked, getting mugs out of the cupboard.

“You said your kitten was black and white, too,” Lucy explained. “And it’s a sweet name. It was just right.”

“Oh dear,” Gran sighed. “Perhaps she was just too wild to be a pet, Lucy. If she’s never really known people…”

“But she wasn’t wild,” Lucy tried to explain. She could feel herself starting to cry again. “She was shy, but she purred at us. And she loved our food, even if she didn’t really love us yet.”

“Well, perhaps we could go back to the alley by the shops and look for her,” Gran said thoughtfully, leaning over to get a clean tea towel out of the drawer.

“You mean – if we found her we could bring her back home again?” Lucy gasped. “We can keep her?” She jumped up. “Can we go round there now?”

William wriggled off Dad’s knee. “Right now?”

But Gran was standing staring into the tea-towel drawer.“I don’t think we need to… Look.”

Lucy leaned over and clapped her hand across her mouth. Curled up in among Gran’s neatly ironed tea towels was a black-and-white kitten, half-asleep and blinking up at them in confusion.

“I shut the drawer…” Gran murmured. “When I went to make the tea. It was open, just a little. You know how that drawer sticks sometimes…”

“Just enough for a skinny kitten to climb in, but not enough for us to see her!” Lucy said, her eyes wide.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_43]

Sleepily, Catkin stared up at Lucy and Gran and let out a little purr. Perhaps there was going to be food. The bread seemed a long while ago and it had been a lot of effort to get up on to the counter and steal a slice. She was hungry again.

“What a sweetheart,” Gran said, laughing as Catkin stepped carefully out of her nest in the drawer. She rubbed her furry face against Gran’s hand and purred even louder. “Just like my Catkin,” Gran said, petting her ears. “You’re staying now, are you?”

Catkin jumped down to the floor and wove her way round Gran’s ankles and then Lucy’s, still purring.

“That means yes,” Lucy whispered. “I know it does.”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_10]

“You actually had her hidden in your wardrobe?” Sara asked Lucy again, as they followed Gran home from school on Monday afternoon. “You had a secret kitten?”

“Yes. And I really wanted you to see her, but I couldn’t let Gran find out. Or I thought I couldn’t. It turns out we probably should have just told her to start with.”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_44]

“That wouldn’t have been as exciting,” Sara said, shaking her head.

“No.” Lucy smiled at her. “Itwas lovely, Catkin being our secret. But now we can play with her without worrying about Dad and Gran. And she still likes my bedroom best in all of the house.”

“Shall we pop in and buy a cake for after tea, girls?” Gran suggested, stopping as they reached the baker’s. “Oh, William, come back!”

Lucy and Sara giggled as William raced ahead, flinging open the door of the baker’s. When they caught up with him, he was already telling Emma behind the counter that he wanted a marshmallow ice cream.

“You know the black-and-white kitten, the one that was living in your yard?” Lucy said shyly to Emma, after they’d chosen their cakes. “She came into our garden and we’re going to keep her!”

Emma smiled delightedly.“Oh, that’s such good news! I looked for her, after you two told me she was there, but I never saw her. I did wonder if you’d imagined her.”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_45]

“No, she’s just a bit shy.” Lucy smiled to herself, remembering Catkin chasing madly round the kitchen after a ping-pong ball that morning and then collapsing in her lap, exhausted, with her paws in the air. She wasn’t shy with them, not any more.

“I’ve got news for you, too,” Emma went on, as she put their chocolate doughnuts into a bag. “I called the cat shelter about the kittens’ mum, to ask them what the best thing was to do. They’re going to catch her and spay her so she doesn’t have more kittens. They said she probably won’t ever be tame enough to be a house cat, but if she’s not trying to feed kittens all the time she’ll be a lot less thin and worried, poor thing. So they’ll bring her back and she can live in the yard. We’ll put scraps out for her.”

“Thank you!” Lucy forgot to be shy and gave Emma a hug. “You’re amazing. I never even thought of doing that!”

“Maybe Catkin can come back and visit her,” William suggested, reaching into his bag and picking the hundreds and thousands off his marshmallow ice cream.

“Maybe.” Lucy smiled, imagining the two cats nose to nose, sniffing hello. All of a sudden she couldn’t wait to get home and see Catkin and show her off to Sara, too.

Her own kitten, not-so-secret any more…

32. SAMMY THE SHY KITTEN

“See you later, Mum!” Emma waved as her mum drove off down the bumpy lane that led to Ivy Bank Stables. She was looking forward to seeing her best friend Keira, but she would see most of her riding-class friends at school on Monday. Really she wanted to say hello to the ponies, and the cats that lived at the stables, too.

Emma didn’t always see the cats – they were all very shy, almost wild. She wasn’t even sure how many of them there were, no one was. Liz, who owned the riding school, said she thought there were five. But Emma was almost certain there were six, and that the skinny ginger cat was actually two skinny ginger cats. Once she thought she’d seen him strolling along the roof of the feed store only seconds after he’d been sunbathing out by the paddock.

Liz put down food and water for the cats, but only once a day. Mostly they lived by hunting. They earned their keep by getting rid of the mice and rats that sniffed around the stables after the horses’ feed.

“Hello, Sparky,” Emma murmured, going to pat the nose of the grey she usually rode in her class. The pony snorted and put his nose over the half-door of his stall. He nudged happily at her hand, searching for an apple or a carrot. He knew Emma always brought him treats. Emma giggled and broughtout a piece of carrot. “And I’ve got Polos for afterwards, if you’re good,” she whispered. “But don’t tell the others. I’ll just go and let Liz know I’m here, then I’ll be back to tack you up.”

[Êàðòèíêà: _3.jpg]

Emma looked around hopefully for the cats as she went over to find Liz, but none of them seemed to be around. She crouched down and peeped behind the tulips in the little flowerbed in front of the office. The ginger cat (one of the ginger cats, anyway) practically lived in the flowerbed, and sometimes he’d let her stroke him. Sure enough, there he was, curled up tightly into a stripy ball. He opened one yellow-green eye and glared at her. He obviously didn’t want to be petted.

Emma sighed and put her head round the office door.

“Hi, Liz. Mum dropped me off a bit early so I could say hello to the ponies. I wanted to see if I could stroke Tiggy, too, but I can’t find her.”

Tiggy was Emma’s favourite of the stable cats – she was black and had longer fur than the others, with a thick bushy tail. She spent a lot of time lying in the sun and grooming, cleaning bits of hay out of her pretty fur.

Liz had looked up, smiling, when she first spotted Emma, but now her smile faded.“I haven’t actually seen her for a couple of days. I’m starting to get a bit worried. I know the cats aren’t really pets and they wander around all over the place, but usually Tiggy’s the friendliest of them all. She doesn’t disappear like Susie and Ginger, and she’s almost always in the yard.”

Emma nodded, frowning.“I don’t think I’ve ever been to the stables and not seen her.”

“She’s been so hungry lately, but she hasn’t come to the food bowls,” Liz sighed. “I’m sure I’d have noticed her.”

Emma glanced out at the bowls. Liz kept them by the bench in the yard, which had a wooden canopy built over it. It meant that the food stayed dry and the nervous cats didn’t have to go inside for it. Emma smiled as she saw Susie, a thin little tabby, slinking over to see if there was anything left. But then she turned back towards Liz.

[Êàðòèíêà: _4.jpg]

“So … Tiggy hasn’t eaten anything for two days?” she asked anxiously.

Liz shook her head.“Not from here, I don’t think. She’s a good mouser, so maybe she’s just been hunting more. I wish I’d seen her around, though.”

Emma nibbled her bottom lip.“At least the stables is quite far from the main road,” she said slowly. Her Auntie Grace’s cat, Whisky, had been hit by a car a couple of years ago and had broken his leg really badly. He was better now, but Auntie Grace hated him going round the front of the house. She always tried to tempthim back inside if she saw him sitting on the front wall.

Liz smiled at her.“Exactly. I’m probably worrying over nothing.”

She didn’t make Emma feel much better, though. Where could Tiggy have gone?

“Anyway,” Liz said briskly. “We should get on. The others will be here by now.” She got up and put an arm round Emma’s shoulders. “Don’t worry. You know what cats are like – especially these half-wild ones. We’ll get all upset and then she’ll stroll in without a care in the world.”

[Êàðòèíêà: _5.jpg]

Emma giggled. But she wished that Tiggy would stroll innow.

[Êàðòèíêà: _6.jpg]

Maybe it was because she was thinking about Tiggy, or maybe it was just a bad day, but nothing seemed to go right for Emma that morning. Tacking up Sparky took ages. He wouldn’t stay still – he jittered and sidestepped and nibbled at her jacket. Then he nearly trod on her foot as she lead him over to the outdoor arena.

“Are you OK?” her friend Keira asked, as she finally managed to get to the gate. “You look a bit stressed.”

“Sparky’s just being … Sparky,” Emma sighed. “He’s lovely when he wants to be, but…”

Keira grinned and nodded.“I know. Maybe he’s just excited.”

“He’s always excited!”

“Are you ready, girls?” Liz came over to check that their girths were tight. “Now, the jumps are a bit higher than last week, but you’re all perfectly capable of clearing these fences. Just don’t let the ponies try to take them too fast.”

Emma nodded a little nervously. She really did love Sparky. The gentler ponies, like Keira’s mount Jasmine, just didn’t have as much personality as the bouncy grey. But she had a feeling that trying to keep Sparky calm and collected wouldn’t be that easy today. Luckily they were going first so Sparky wouldn’t get bored. The thrill of riding a fast, eager pony took over as they set off, and Emma had a huge smile on her face by the time they’d cleared the second jump.

Then somehow everything went wrong. Perhaps Sparky decided he didn’t like the look of the new rainbow-striped rails that Liz had used for the third jump. He slid round to the left of the jump instead of going over. Emma did her best to encourage him on, but Sparky was determined – he swerved sideways round the jump, and Emma felt herself slipping out of the saddle. There was a horrible, slow moment when she knew she was falling. Then all of a sudden she was on the ground, with her ankle twisted and aching, and Sparky standing over her. He looked quite apologetic.

“Emma!” Liz came hurrying over, catching Sparky’s reins and handing them to Keira. “Hold on to him, Keira, while I check Emma’s all right.”

“I don’t think I rode him at it straight enough,” Emma said, wincing as she tried to stand. “Ow, my ankle…”

[Êàðòèíêà: _7.jpg]

Liz gently felt the ankle through Emma’s boot. “I don’t think it’s swelling up. Do you want me to call Alex and get him to bring you an ice pack?”

“It’s OK. Sorry I messed up…”

“No, you were doing really well. It looked like Sparky just decided against that jump. Can you put any weight on your ankle?”

“I think so.” Emma blinked, trying not to cry.

Liz helped her up.“Are you sure you’re all right?”

Emma nodded.“It was just a bit of a shock…”

“Look, sit down on the bench. We’ll tie Sparky up to the fence, and I’ll come and check on you again in a bit.”

Liz went back to schooling the others over the jumps, and Emma watched from the side of the arena, gently rubbing her ankle. It was starting to feel a bit better already. She clapped as Keira jumped Jasmine clear, and her friend waved at her.

Emma stood up and leaned on the fence, testing the weight on her ankle. It was definitely feeling better. She was just thinking about asking Liz if it was OK to untie Sparky again, when she heard a strange squeaky noise behind her. She glanced round. The outdoor arena was next to a shabby old barn that Liz was planning to get rid of, so they could make the arena bigger. It was divided up into stalls for horses, but they weren’t used any more. The noise was definitely coming from in there, though. Emma limped curiously over to the door – that was falling apart, too, a couple of the boards had rotted away at the bottom.

She lifted the latch, pushed open the door and looked round it cautiously. Maybe a bird had got trapped inside– she didn’t like the idea of it flapping out at her. But there was no bird, only the raspy creak of the door – and then that tiny, breathy little squeak again. Emma walked in slowly, following the noise. It sounded like it was coming from the stall at the end.

Emma stopped and peered round the open half-door. There was still some straw on the floor, piled up in the corner. The squeaking was coming from over there, and for one horrible moment Emma wondered if it was a rat.

Then a dark head looked up over the straw, and Emma laughed in surprise.

“Tiggy!” she said, keeping her voice low. “Liz is really worried about you, you know. What are you doing in here?”

Tiggy eyed her cautiously, her ears flickering, and Emma frowned. She’d never heard Tiggy squeak like that before, she realized. And there was something else in the straw – something small and wriggly and dark. Actually there were several somethings…

“Oh! Tiggy, have you…?” Emma stepped closer, trying to lean over the door just a little so she could see without scaring the cat. She’d completely forgotten about her twisted ankle now. “You have! You’ve had kittens!”

[Êàðòèíêà: _8.jpg]

[Êàðòèíêà: _9.jpg]

The kittens were so sweet, squirming around over each other in the straw and nuzzling at their mother. Tiggy glared suspiciously at Emma for a moment. Then she obviously decided that it was safe to ignore her and went back to licking her babies all over. Emma tried not to giggle. It looked as though Tiggy was determined that they would be just as beautifully groomed as she was.

“So that’s why you were really hungry. It’s OK, Tiggy. I won’t come any closer.” Emma hung on to the door post, counting. “It’s three, isn’t it?” she whispered. “Two black kittens and one grey tabby. I ought to go and tell the others…” But she didn’t want to leave just yet. The kittens were so little Emma wondered when they’d been born.

“I’d better go and tell Liz,” she said at last, slowly backing away. “Don’t go anywhere, will you…” She had read about mother cats picking up their kittens in their mouths to move them if she thought they weren’t safe. She hoped she hadn’t scared Tiggy into doing anything like that. But Tiggy didn’t look too worried. “I’ll get Liz to find you some food, too,” Emma added, her eyes widening. “Oh, Tiggy, you must be starving!”

As soon as she was out of sight of Tiggy, Emma whisked round and limped out of the barn as fast as she could.

Liz waved when she saw her and hurried over.“Emma! I just noticed that you’d disappeared. How’s your ankle? It doesn’t look like it’s swollen.”

Emma shook her head, grinning at Liz.“No, it feels nearly better now. And I’ve found Tiggy.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant! Where was she? Is she all right?”

Emma giggled.“She’s more than all right. You have to come and see!”

“I need to watch the others. Can you show me at the end?” Liz glanced between Emma and the rest of the class, and Emma realized that of course she couldn’t leave them riding without an instructor.

“It’s OK. I don’t think Tiggy’s going anywhere.” Emma folded her arms and glanced back at the barn.

Liz sighed.“I hope this is worth all the suspense, Emma! Come on, you’d better catch up with the others. Sparky looks very sorry for himself.”

Sparky did seem to think that he’d been missing out. He brightened up as he saw Emma and jumped two clear rounds with her as soon as he was allowed back into the ring.

[Êàðòèíêà: _10.jpg]

“You monster!” Emma told him affectionately, as she patted his nose afterwards. “You can have a Polo – here. But I don’t think you deserve it. Why didn’t you do that first time round, instead of tipping me off?” Sparky whiffled up the Polo from her hand eagerly, and Emma smiled. “I suppose if I hadn’t fallen, I wouldn’t have found the kittens. Oh, look, Liz is waving. It’s the end of the lesson now – I can’t wait for her to see them.” She hugged Sparky round the neck and started to walk him back to the gate where the others were waiting. “I’m not showing you, though. I wouldn’t trust you not to put your massive great clumpy feet on those kittens.”

“What are you so excited about?” Keira asked, as she led Jasmine over towards Emma and Sparky.

“I found Tiggy! Liz hadn’t seen her for a couple of days – she was getting worried. You have to come and see!”

Keira looked at her doubtfully.“Sorry, Emma. You know I’m scared of cats.”

“I forgot! Sorry, I was just so excited.” She bit her lip, not wanting Keira to miss out on the secret. But she knew her friend was especially frightened of the half-wild cats at the stables. “Come here.” She leaned over to whisper in Keira’s ear. “Tiggy’s had kittens. In the old barn! Don’t tell Liz yet, OK?”

[Êàðòèíêà: _11.jpg]

Keira smiled.“Now I get why you’re so excited. Are they cute?” She sounded a little bit wistful, as though she wished she wasn’t so nervous around cats.

“I only saw them from a distance, but they were gorgeous. Are you sure you don’t want just a little look?”

Keira shook her head.“Tiggy’s so jumpy…”

Liz came up behind them.“Are you going to show me this big secret now?”

Emma nodded eagerly, and Keira laughed.“She can’t wait – I’m surprised she hasn’t told everybody already! Here, I’ll lead Sparky back.”

Emma handed over the reins and hurried Liz along to the barn door.“Be really quiet!” she whispered, putting a finger up to her lips. Then she led the way inside, tiptoeing over the dusty floor.

“Where is she?” Liz hissed, and then she gasped as Emma pulled her sleeve and pointed into the stall. “Kittens! Oh, wow, I never even thought of that!”

“Three of them,” Emma said, beaming. “Aren’t they beautiful? Can we put down some food for Tiggy in here? I bet she’s really hungry.”

Liz nodded.“Yes, definitely. I’ll go and get her some now. Gosh, three more cats. That’s a lot…”

[Êàðòèíêà: _12.jpg]

Emma looked up at her worriedly.“I hadn’t thought about that.”

Liz made a face.“Well, they are lovely, but I’m not sure how many more cats we can look after, to be honest. We’ve already got five. I suppose I should have expected this to happen, but none of them have had kittens till now. Probably we should have got them neutered, but they’re all so shy. It was a nightmare the one time I had to take Susie to the vet because she’d been in a fight. She was really tricky to catch, and she hated being in the car.”

“So…” Emma swallowed – her mouth had gone dry with excitement. When she spoke again, her voice sounded oddly squeaky. “If the kittens couldn’t stay here, would you want to find homes for them?”

Liz nodded slowly.“That would be perfect, wouldn’t it? Nice homes where they’d be properly looked after.”

Emma gazed thoughtfully at the wriggling bundles of fur.“I didn’t think of them being pets,” she murmured. “I thought they’d be a bit wild, like Tiggy.”

Liz shook her head.“I think it’s to do with how much they get used to people when they’re little. Tiggy and Susie and the others are half-wild because they’ve never had a proper indoor home or spent much time around people. But it doesn’t mean it has to be the same with these little ones.”

Emma nodded. That made sense.“How are you going to find them homes?” she said. “Would you just … ask people if they wanted them?”

Liz smiled at Emma.“I suppose so. Are you thinking you’d like a kitten? What would your mum and dad say?”

“I don’t know.” Emma sighed. “But I can ask. I love the idea of taming a little wild kitten!”

Liz snorted.“I wouldn’t put it that way to your mum, Emma. She’d worry about you getting your fingers bitten off. Come on, let’s go and find Tiggy something to eat.”

[Êàðòèíêà: _13.jpg]

“Dad!” Emma ran over to the car where her dad was waiting and flung her arms around his waist. “You’ll never guess what happened!”

Her dad blinked at her in surprise.“Did Sparky behave himself for once?”

Emma shook her head and laughed.“Nope, actually he was really tricksy and I fell off. But I’m OK! It’s Tiggy – she’s had three kittens, and I found them!”

“That is exciting! Are they really small?”

“I think they’re only a day or two old,” Emma explained. “Liz said Tiggy had disappeared for a couple of days, so I guess she went off to hide and make herself a little nest. The kittens are teensy – only about this big.” She held her hands apart to show him. “Do you want to come and see?”

[Êàðòèíêà: _14.jpg]

Dad wrinkled his nose.“I’d love to – but what about Tiggy? Isn’t she really shy? If loads of people start tramping past her kittens, she might get upset.”

Emma nodded.“I know. But Liz said that seeing as I found them, I can take some food back for Tiggy. You could come with me. Liz has made her a special treat – she found a bit of fish in the freezer. She reckons Tiggy deserves it!”

Dad grinned.“I haven’t seen any tiny kittens for years – not since my cat Bella had kittens when I was about your age.”

“Did she?” Emma looked surprised. “Didn’t you have her neutered, then?”

“She was a stray that Granny May adopted,” Dad explained. “Well, she adopted us, really. She was sitting on the front doorstep one day when we came home from school. We hadn’t even got as far as taking her to the vet, to be honest. We were just getting used to having a cat when the kittens arrived. We had her neutered after that… One litter of kittens was fun, but your gran didn’t want to find homes for any more.”

“You’re so lucky,” Emma sighed. “I wish we had kittens. Or a grown-up cat – I wouldn’t mind.” She gave her dad a sideways look. “Dad, if you really like cats, why don’t we have one?”

Her dad looked thoughtful.“Well, it would have been tricky when me and Mum were both working full-time. But I suppose now we’ve changed our shifts around we could…” Emma’s parents both worked at the local hospital. “I don’t know what your mum would think, though, Ems. She’s never had a cat.”

“I don’t see how anybody could not like a tiny little kitten,” Emma said coaxingly.

“Perhaps because it’ll turn into a great big cat clawing the sofa? You know your mum likes everything really tidy in the house.”

“A cat could be tidy…” Emma said hopefully. “Oh, Liz has got the food, look!” Liz was standing by the car-park gate, holding a couple of bowls. Emma grabbed her dad’s arm, hauling him after her.

[Êàðòèíêà: _15.jpg]

“We’ll be really careful,” she told Liz, as she took the food bowl. “Oh, you’ve got some water, too. I was going to ask you about that.”

Emma’s dad took the water bowl and followed her across the yard to the old barn. “I can hear them rustling about,” he whispered to Emma, as they tiptoed over to the stall.

Tiggy was looking anxious, and she half stood up as Emma and her dad came to the door of the stall. The kittens squeaked a little and shifted around in the straw nest as their mother moved. Emma ducked her head, trying to see the kittens without staring at Tiggy– she knew from a cat programme she’d seen on TV that cats didn’t like to make eye contact sometimes. “It’s OK,” she whispered. “We brought you some delicious food. Fish – can you smell it?”

She was sure that Tiggy’s whiskers flickered, and the fluffy cat was definitely eyeing the bowls.

“I’ll put the food here.” Emma crouched down and stretched out her arm, trying to get the bowl into the stall without scaring Tiggy. “And Dad’s got you some water, too.” She glanced across at her dad. “Can you see the kittens? Look, they haven’t even got their eyes open!”

The kittens wriggled and made tiny mewing noises, calling for Tiggy to feed them. They were like little furry balloons, Emma thought, all plump and squidgy. Their fur was still quite short and fine, so the pink skin showed through on their tummies and paws, and their tails were almost as thin as string.

[Êàðòèíêà: _16.jpg]

“I wish we could stay and watch,” she murmured to Dad, as she edged away, still crouching. “But Tiggy might not want to eat while we’re here because it’ll mean leaving the kittens.”

“I know, she is looking a bit worried,” Dad agreed. “I love that little tabby. It looks like it’s going to have great silver and black stripes. But they’re all cute.”

“I like that one, too,” Emma whispered, giving the kittens one last look from the doorway. “That’s the sort of cat I’ve always imagined having.”

Snuggled in the straw, the kittens cheeped faintly, and blundered their way over towards their mother and her milk. They were so little that food and warmth were the only things they understood. They heard the soft vibrations of Emma’s voice, and her dad’s, but only Tiggy understood that Emma had brought her food and water, and had kept her distance from the precious kittens.

[Êàðòèíêà: _6.jpg]

“The kitten of one of those cats at the stables?” Emma’s mum asked doubtfully. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea, Emma. I know they look beautiful, but none of them are friendly. They’re all half-wild. I don’t think we want a cat like that.” She put the salad on the kitchen table and sat down. “It isn’t that I don’t want us to have a pet, but we’ve never had a cat before. Shouldn’t it be somebody who really knows what they’re doing looking after kittens like those?”

“But there isn’t anybody who knows!” Emma tried to argue. “Liz would be really pleased if we wanted to adopt one, I know she would. You should see him, Mum, the little grey tabby kitten. He’s got white paws and white under his chin. His nose is all pink and soft because he’s so small.”

Mum smiled at her.“He sounds lovely, Emma. But a kitten like that might be a lot of work. Maybe we could find one from somewhere else?”

Emma looked desperately at her dad. She ought to be delighted– Mum had never said anything about being able to get a cat before. Emma knew that she was lucky to have her riding lessons – she’d never thought they’d be able to have a pet at home, too. But now she didn’t want just any cat, she wanted to help those little kittens at the stables.

She’d always felt sorry for the stable cats, not having proper homes to go to. They didn’t seem to mind – they curled up together in the stalls, and Liz put food out for them – but it wasn’t like a lovely warm basket by the radiator, or sleeping at the end of someone’s bed. She didn’t want the kittens to grow up wild like their mother, even though Tiggy was gorgeous.

“Let’s see what we can find out about taming kittens,” Dad suggested. “Theywere very sweet. And I think it’s too late to put Emma off them. She’s already fallen in love with the little tabby. I wonder if it’s a boy or a girl? We didn’t get close enough to check.”

“I thought he was a boy, just because he looked like he was wearing a little white shirt. But I don’t know for sure.”

Emma’s dad looked over at her mum and she smiled.

“We’ll see,” Mum said. “I’m not promising anything, but perhaps you could do a bit of research. Find out what we’d have to do…”

“Yes!” Emma squealed. “Oh, Mum, this is so exciting! Please can we hurry up and eat lunch so I can look it all up on the computer.”

[Êàðòèíêà: _6.jpg]

“Hello, Ivy Bank Stables?”

“Hi, Liz,” Emma said, a bit shyly. She’d never rung up the stables before – usually Mum did it if they had to book a lesson.

[Êàðòèíêà: _17.jpg]

“Oh! Is that you, Emma? Is everything OK? How’s your ankle?”

“It doesn’t hurt at all now. I’m just ringing because I’ve been talking to Mum and Dad about the kittens. I asked if we could adopt one, but my mum’s not sure. She says maybe it ought to be somebody who’s more experienced with cats.” Emma frowned to herself, trying to remember all theinformation she and Dad had looked up that afternoon. “But the thing is, if they’re going to be rehomed, the kittens need to have lots of contact with people, so they’re not shy around humans like Tiggy and the others are. So I was wondering if I could come and spend some time with them.”

“Yes, that makes sense,” Liz said slowly. “And it’s lovely that you want to help look after them, Emma. Of course you can – if your mum and dad are fine with it.”

“Oh, they are,” Emma told her. She hesitated, and then went on, “I’m really hoping Mum will let me adopt one of the kittens, if I can help tame them. At the moment she’s a bit worried that they’ll be too wild. But we’ve found lots of ways to help with that. Me and Dad have been doing loads of research. It’s the little tabby one I really love.”

“He’s adorable, isn’t he? So, is there anything I should be doing? Or the others at the stables?” Liz asked.

“I think just try to spend some time with them. Would it be OK if I came to the stables after school sometimes, as well as for my lessons? The more the kittens get used to people, the better. I’m guessing you want to find homes for the others as well?”

Emma heard Liz sigh down the phone.“Yes, I need to think about that. Perhaps I’ll put a notice up on the board outside the stables.”

“Oh!” Emma suddenly remembered something she’d read on a website. “There’s a charity that’ll help with neutering the cats. They’ll even come and get them for you! They’ll catch them and neuter them for free, and then bring them back.”

“Really? That sounds amazing. Could you find their details for me, please?” Liz laughed. “You really are serious about cats, aren’t you, Emma?”

[Êàðòèíêà: _18.jpg]

Emma went to the stables whenever she could get Mum or Dad to drive her. She spent most of her pocket money on a cat care book, just in case she did manage to persuade Mum to take the tabby kitten home. The kitten wouldn’t be allowed to leave his mother until it was seven or eight weeks old, anyway. They had to give the kittens the chance to learn everything they needed from Tiggy. So she had plenty of time to read the whole bookand persuade her mum that the tabby kitten would be the perfect pet.

The first time she went, Emma just sat quietly by the door. Tiggy watched her suspiciously, her ears laid back and the tip of her fluffy tail twitching. It was obvious that she was making Tiggy nervous, but she had to get to know the kittens, Emma told herself. It was so important. She wrapped her arms round her knees and just sat listening to the squeaks and rustles in the straw. By the time Dad came to pick her up, Tiggy was lying down feeding the kittens as if Emma wasn’t there.

[Êàðòèíêà: _19.jpg]

On her next visit, Emma decided to bring Tiggy some cat treats. If Tiggy was distracted, she might let Emma near the kittens. Liz had told her that Tiggy had licked the bowl of fish spotlessly clean, so Emma decided to get fish-flavoured ones.

She crouched down a little way from the kittens and shook some treats out of the packet next to Tiggy. The cat sniffed at them curiously. Emma could tell she wanted the fishy treats, but that she wasn’t ready to eat in front of her. Emma sat with her chin on her knees, looking away from Tiggy. Out of the corner of her eye, she could just see her edging closer to the pile.

Tiggy made one last little hop and started to gobble down the treats. Then she sniffed cautiously at Emma’s right foot – the part of her that was nearest – and darted back to her kittens. Emma couldn’t stop herself beaming. It felt like a breakthrough.

She opened the packet again, making sure that Tiggy could hear it rustle. Then she wriggled a bit closer, shaking out a few more treats right next to the cat. Emma really wanted to get a proper look at the kittens, as she thought they must be just over a week old by now. She was hoping that their eyes would be open. Her cat book said that the kittens would all have blue eyes to begin with.

“They’re definitely bigger,” Emma whispered to Tiggy, who was still eating the treats. “They’re beautiful.” Tiggy looked up at Emma with her ears laid back, and Emma sighed. “I know you don’t like me talking. I don’t want to scare you. I just want them to get used to hearing my voice. Anybody’s voice, really.”

Tiggy crunched the last fishy biscuit, and Emma took a deep breath. She had stroked the cat a couple of times before, but not since she’d had the kittens. Slowly, she held out her hand to let Tiggy sniff it.

Tiggy dabbed her nose at Emma’s hand cautiously, but she didn’t hiss or raise the fur on her back. She actually looked quite calm. She rubbed her chin along Emma’s wrist, and then strolled back towards the kittens.

Emma held her breath and put the same hand down in the straw, next to the kittens. Tiggy lay down, stretched out beside her babies, and Emma smiled delightedly. She was almost touching them! And the little tabby was right next to her hand. Emma wondered if he could smell the fishy treats, too, but she thought he was probably a bit young for that. His eyes were definitely open, though– just tiny blue slits. He looked like a teddy bear, with his round face and little triangle ears.

[Êàðòèíêà: _20.jpg]

“I’m so lucky,” Emma whispered, “getting to know you now when you’re so small.”

The kitten mewed squeakily and waved his front paws, wriggling closer to Emma.“I’m not your mum, small puss,” she whispered. “I think you want to be over there. For some milk.” Very gently she scooped him closer to Tiggy, so he could latch on and suckle. His fur was the softest thing she’d ever felt.

“I’ve got to think of a name,” Emma muttered. “I can’t keep just calling you small puss. Sam maybe? Or Sammy… You look like a Sammy. My little Sammy cat.”

[Êàðòèíêà: _6.jpg]

As the weeks went by, Sammy and the other kittens grew amazingly quickly. By four weeks they could all walk properly, and suddenly they seemed to be interested in everything.

Tiggy spent a lot of her time trying to herd them back together, hurrying round them in the scattered straw and shooing them back to the nest. But as soon as she had one kitten safely tucked away, the other two would be padding out to explore again. Emma thought that Tiggy looked very tired. Liz had been putting down lots more food for her than usual, and Emma had been bringing her bowls of special cat milk and extra snacks, but it was hard work herding kittens and feeding them, too.

The kittens were more like mini cats now– their heads still seemed much too big for their little bodies, but they’d lost their furry balloon look. They were really growing up.

“Hello,” Emma whispered, crouching down by the door of the stall. Three little heads popped up at once, and she giggled. They looked so funny, like the meerkats she’d seen at the zoo. Almost at once the tabby kitten plunged over the edge of the straw nest to come and see her.

[Êàðòèíêà: _21.jpg]

“I’ve got something really special for you,” Emma murmured. She and Liz had been talking about how they were going to wean the kittens – to get them eating food as well as Tiggy’s milk. Emma had looked it up in her book, and Mum had got some baby rice and evaporated milk from the supermarket to mix up for the kittens. It looked a big disgusting, but then Emma didn’t much like the look of normal cat food, either.

She’d bought a special litter tray as well, to put in the corner of the stall. According to her book, now that the kittens were trying solid food, they were going to poo a lot more, too. Until now Liz had just scooped out the dirty straw every day.

Liz had said she’d be able to do most of the feeds and cleaning, and Alex and Sarah, who also taught at the stables, had said they could help as well. The kittens were going to need a bowl four times a day, so it was lucky Liz and the others were around.

“This is going to be yummy,” Emma promised, dipping her finger in the white goo and holding it out to Sammy.

Sammy sniffed curiously, and Emma rubbed the goo on his nose. He stepped back in surprise and sneezed. Then he licked at the dribbles of baby rice that were running down his muzzle. It was good! He licked harder, running his bright pink tongue all round his mouth and nose.

[Êàðòèíêà: _22.jpg]

Sammy padded closer to the girl, hoping for some more of the white stuff. Emma was holding another splodge out for him, and he licked it straight off her finger this time, trying to gobble it up fast. He could hear his brother and sister coming up behind him, and he didn’t want to share.

“Look,” Emma murmured. “There’s a whole bowlful…”

Sammy sniffed hopefully at the bowl, and then started to lap hurriedly. The other two kittens appeared beside him, and his sister plunged her face into the bowl eagerly. She came up smeared in white milky stuff, dripping from her nose and her black whiskers.

The girl laughed, and all the kittens jumped, staring at her nervously.

“Sorry,” she whispered softly.

Sammy watched her for a moment, then decided that she didn’t mean any harm and went back to lapping. The food was so tasty, but it was making him sleepy, just like feeding from his mother did sometimes. He licked at the last smears at the bottom of the bowl, and then licked his whiskers and yawned.

His brother and sister began to pad back towards their mother, to sleep curled up next to her, but the nest in the straw was a long way away. Sammy yawned again and eyed the girl. She was warm, too– he knew it from the times she’d stroked him. He walked towards her, wobbling a bit, and tried to climb up her leg.

Emma looked at him, smiling in delighted surprise. Then she gently scooped a hand underneath his bottom and lifted him up on to her lap. Sammy flopped down, full and sleepy, and began a tiny purr.

[Êàðòèíêà: _6.jpg]

“Oh, Emma,” Mum whispered from the doorway. “Is that Sammy? You said it was the tabby one you really liked.”

“Yes,” Emma breathed. “He fell asleep on me. And he was purring, Mum.”

“He is gorgeous,” Mum said, smiling. “What does Tiggy think about him sleeping on you?”

Emma giggled.“She’s asleep, too. I think she’s grateful! She must be worn out looking after them all. I need to ask Liz if she’s got something we can put across the doorway of the stall, a plank of wood maybe. So that Tiggy can get out, but the kittens won’t. Otherwise they’ll be wandering all over the place soon. We might never find them!” She sighed. “I suppose we have to go, don’t we?”

“We can hang on for a little bit. I don’t want to make you move him. Why don’t I go and ask Liz about finding something for the door?”

Emma nodded. Then, as her mum was turning to leave, she suddenly whispered,“Mum!”

“What is it? Is he waking up after all?”

“No, it’s just … do you think we could adopt him? You said we had to see about having one of Tiggy’s kittens – in case they were too wild.”

Her mum looked down at Sammy, stretched out blissfully on Emma’s knee. “He doesn’t look very wild, does he?”

Emma shook her head, beaming.

Mum smiled at her.“All right then, we can adopt him. I’ll tell Liz now.”

[Êàðòèíêà: _23.jpg]

[Êàðòèíêà: _24.jpg]

Keira stood by the door of the stall, looking cautiously round it at Tiggy and the dancing kittens. Emma had managed to persuade her to come and see them at last. They were playing with a toy that Emma had bought– a bundle of feathers on the end of a long wire that she could flick and wave about. The kittens loved it. They stalked it, pounced on it, bounced around it, and all the while Tiggy sat watching them proudly. Every so often she couldn’t resist and put out a paw to dab at the feathers, too.

[Êàðòèíêà: _25.jpg]

“They’re so funny,” Keira whispered to Emma. “I wish…”

“You could have a go,” Emma suggested, holding out the toy.

Keira shook her head.“No,” she said quickly. “It’s OK.”

Emma wanted to persuade her, but she had a feeling it would only make Keira feel worse.“I want to wear Sammy out a bit, before Dad comes and we put him in the carrying box,” she explained. Dad was bringing the box when he came to pick Emma up from her lesson, any time now.

“Do you think Sammy won’t like it?” Keira asked.

“I don’t know.” Emma sighed. “It feels mean taking him away from Tiggy and the other kittens, but he’s about nine weeks old. Lots of kittens go to new homes then, even though it’s a bit young. From the websites Dad and I looked at it sounded like it’d be best to rehome Sammy as soon as possible. Otherwise he’ll do whatever his mum does. Tiggy still doesn’t really like being touched, and she’d never let me pick her up. I don’t want Sammy to learn to be scared of people from her.”

“What’s going to happen to the other kittens?” Keira asked.

“Liz thinks she’s found a lady who wants them,” Emma said happily. “She’s had cats before and she’s going to take them both together. Later this week, I think.” She glanced anxiously at Tiggy, who was still watching her kittens closely. “Poor Tiggy, she’ll really miss them. But itis the best thing for the kittens, I’m sure it is.”

“Oh! Your dad’s here,” Keira said, turning to look out of the barn door.

Emma let out an excited gasp.“Oh, wow…” she murmured. “I’m actually getting to take you home, Sammy!”

She had brought along a packet of cat treats, so they could tempt Sammy into the crate. The kittens were eating dry food like Tiggy now, although theirs was made for kittens. The cat treats were a special extra. Emma took the carrier from her dad and opened the wire door. Then she scattered a few treats inside. Tiggy and all the kittens edged closer– they knew what that rustling noise meant.

“They’re all coming,” Emma said worriedly to Dad.

“That’s probably not a bad thing. We want Sammy to think the box isn’t scary. If they all play around in it for a bit, he won’t mind going in, will he?”

“I guess not.” Emma watched as all three kittens explored their way around the carrier, nibbling at the treats and sniffing the soft cushion lining. Even Tiggy snapped up a treat that was just by the door.

“Emma, look,” Dad murmured, a few minutes later. “Sammy’s going in on his own. You can close the door in a second.”

Emma nodded, and as the white tip of Sammy’s striped tail cleared the door, she gently swung it shut and twisted the catches.

“Let’s go home,” she whispered.

[Êàðòèíêà: _6.jpg]

Sammy sat pressed against the back of the box. He had no idea what was happening– he’d never seen anywhere but the barn. Now he was shut into the small, shadowy carrier, and somehow it was moving. The smells were strange and sharp, and there was so much noise. The vibration of the car was completely new to Sammy and very frightening.

He could hear Emma’s voice, and her dad’s, and he knew that they were familiar, but it wasn’t making him feel much better.

“Do you think he’s all right? I thought he might meow, but he’s not even making any noise.”

“It’s a big shock for him, poor kitten. We’re nearly back, Emma.”

“We’re almost home,” Emma whispered through the holes in the carrier. “Not much longer.”

Sammy felt himself pressed against the side of the carrier as the car swung round a corner. He let out a little hiss of fright and tried to back further into the box– but there wasn’t anywhere to go. He scratched at the plastic, just a faint little movement of his paw. Nothing happened. Sammy closed his eyes and hoped his mother would come.

[Êàðòèíêà: _6.jpg]

“I don’t understand,” Emma whispered. “He was so friendly before. He let me pick him up. He even slept on my lap.”

“One of those websites did say to expect a kitten to take a couple of steps backwards when it’s moved, Ems,” Dad pointed out. “He’s only been here a few hours.”

“I didn’t think he’d be this jumpy.” Mum looked worriedly at Sammy, tense and nervous, his whiskers bristling.

[Êàðòèíêà: _26.jpg]

“He’s just a bit scared,” Dad said encouragingly.

“I suppose so…” Mum sighed.

Emma looked over at the big wire crate they’d borrowed from one of the neighbours, whose puppy didn’t need it any more. Sammy couldn’t be loose in the house just yet, as he’d probably run off and hide. But they could put the crate on the table in the corner of the kitchen, and he could see everything that was going on and get used to lots of people being around. The kitchen didn’t have any holes a kitten could get stuck in when they let him out to play.

It had seemed like the perfect plan for an almost-wild kitten. But Emma had imagined Sammy watching curiously as she ate her breakfast or did her homework. She’d thought of him purring to Dad as he made the dinner. She hadn’t seen a hissing, spitting, miserable little kitten hiding at the back of his crate. He’d even swiped at her with his claws when she put a bowl of fresh water in for him. He’d missed, but still. It was like Sammy was a different kitten.

“We need to give him time,” Dad said gently. “A day or so to calm down, before we start trying to handle him again.”

“Yes,” Emma sighed. “And I know I should have expected he wouldn’t be very happy…” But she hadn’t thought it would be like this. Mum looked so worried – and she’d really been coming round to the idea of a kitten! What if she changed her mind?

Dad patted Emma’s shoulder, and then gave Mum a hug. “Don’t look so tragic, you two! It’ll be OK! I’m just going to make some coffee. Do you want anything, Emma?”

Emma shook her head. Deep down, she realized sadly, she’d just thought that Sammy would see how nice their house was. He’d know how excited she was to have a kitten of her own – he’d understand, and he’d settle in straightaway.

“I was being stupid,” Emma muttered to herself. She crouched down in front of the crate, looking at Sammy sideways. He was still huddled up at the back, his ears flat against his little head. “I thought everything would be perfect all at once. But I’ll do anything to make you love us, Sammy. I just want you to be happy.”

[Êàðòèíêà: _27.jpg]

Emma held out her fingers to Sammy. They were covered in roast chicken dinner baby food, which apparently was the most popular flavour with kittens. It felt sticky and gloopy, but she didn’t mind. They’d given Sammy a whole twenty-four hours to calm down, and Emma just couldn’t wait any more. All the websites said that the way to make a half-wild kitten like you was to use food. They had to make Sammy see that food came from people, and if he wanted the food he had to put up with them, too.

“He’s noticed, Ems,” Dad breathed behind her. “He can smell it.”

It was true. Emma could see Sammy’s ears flickering, just a little. And his eyes were widening. “He must be able to smell it,” she murmured. “It smellsdisgusting.”

“Not to a cat,” Dad whispered back.

“He’s coming!” Emma tried not to sound too excited, or too loud. Sammy was stepping delicately, cautiously across the crate to sniff at her fingers. His tiny pink tongue flicked out, and he began to lick them.

Emma held her face straight, trying not to laugh and scare him away, but it tickled so much. His tongue was very strong for such a small kitten. And it was so rough. Emma leaned a little closer, so she could see the tiny white hairs all over his tongue. Sammy stopped licking and glanced worriedly up at her for a second. But then the deliciousness of the baby food won, and he went back to getting every last bit out from under Emma’s fingernails.

[Êàðòèíêà: _28.jpg]

Emma wanted to pull her hand away to get some more from the jar, but she was sure that would frighten Sammy. Then she rolled her eyes. Of course! She dipped her other hand in, lifting out several fat fingerfuls, and slowly moved that hand into the crate, too.

Sammy moved his head from side to side, as though he wasn’t sure which hand to go for.

“Aww, poor Sammy – you’ve confused him now,” Dad said.

Sammy decided that he couldn’t get much more from Emma’s right hand and changed to gulping down the food from her left. Emma looked at him thoughtfully. Her right hand was still in the crate. Very gently, she ran her hand down Sammy’s back. He tensed a little, but he didn’t spring away. Emma kept softly stroking his fur.

“Is that nice?” she whispered. “Is it nice being stroked, mmm?”

Sammy glanced up at her, as if to check what the noise was, but he kept licking.

“Keep stroking him,” Dad murmured. “I’m going to get a little bowl of his proper dry food. Let’s see if we can get him to eat that with us still here watching him.”

He filled the bowl quietly and passed it to Emma so she could put it in front of Sammy. The little kitten darted back as the bowl suddenly appeared, but then he caught the scent of the dry cat food he was used to. He gave Emma’s fingers one last hopeful swipe with his tongue and moved on to the bowl.

“You try stroking him,” Emma whispered to Dad.

Dad nodded and reached slowly into the crate, running one finger down Sammy’s back as he busily gobbled the food. Sammy glanced over his shoulder, but he didn’t stop eating.

“It really works,” Dad murmured. “We can do this again when we feed him at lunchtime.”

Emma nodded.“Every time we feed him. And maybe soon we can get him out of the crate and let him eat from his bowl on the floor.” She sighed happily. “It’s really going to be OK, Dad, I’m sure it is.”

[Êàðòèíêà: _6.jpg]

“Which top do you think I should wear?” Mum held two out on hangers.

“Mmm. The black one,” Emma said, watching Sammy. He’d nearly finished his bowl of food and he was looking sleepy. She had her arm inside his cage, with her hand cupped round him. Emma had a feeling he might fall asleep with her hand still there, which would be brilliant. He’d be almost backto the same friendly Sammy she’d known at the stables, and it was only a week since they’d brought him home.

“Are you sure?” Mum frowned. “You didn’t look for very long…”

“Yes, Mum. I can stroke Sammyand look, you know. Hurry up! Auntie Grace’ll be here to babysit soon.”

[Êàðòèíêà: _29.jpg]

Mum rushed off, and Emma giggled and gently moved the food bowl. Sammy had fallen asleep with his head in it! He twitched a little and then flopped down, collapsing across her hand with a little wheezy snore. She leaned against the crate, closing her eyes and smiling dreamily to herself. Soon they’d be able to take him out of there and he’d be a real pet, she was sure.

“Are you asleep, Emma?”

“Oh! Auntie Grace, shh. I’m not, but Sammy is.” Emma reached out the arm that wasn’t in the crate to hug her aunt. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Your dad was walking up the path when I pulled up, so I didn’t have to ring the bell. He’s just gone to change. So this is Sammy? He’s gorgeous.”

“Isn’t he?” Emma agreed proudly. “And he’s getting much more confident again. He was really upset on Saturday when we brought him home, but he’s a lot happier now.” Carefully, she slid her hand out from underneath him, and Sammy snuffled but stayed asleep. She grinned at her aunt. “I’ve got pins and needles now. Mum says please can you help me with my science homework, but she’s got us a DVD for afterwards.”

[Êàðòèíêà: _6.jpg]

Emma yawned and snuggled against Auntie Grace.“Can’t we watch a bit more?”

“No! You know your mum said eight-thirty, cheeky. Besides, haven’t you got to feed Sammy before bed?”

“Oh yes, and you haven’t seen him awake yet, I forgot!” Emma sprang up from the sofa. “I’ll go and get his food.” She hurried into the kitchen and began to measure it out, while Sammy padded up and down the crate, watching her and mewing hopefully.

Emma had just opened the door of the crate to put the bowl in when Auntie Grace pushed open the kitchen door. It banged slightly, and Sammy jumped at the noise. He saw Auntie Grace– someone he’d never met before – and suddenly panicked. He hissed loudly, and Emma stared at him. “What’s the matter, Sammy?”

“Oh dear, is he OK?” Auntie Grace asked, leaning over to look at him.

Sammy hissed again as he saw the strange person coming closer. He darted out of the crate door, desperate to get away.

“I think he’s a bit scared because you’re new,” Emma said worriedly, trying to catch him. “Maybe you’d better just let me sort him out, Auntie Grace.”

Auntie Grace stepped back out of the kitchen, but Sammy was already spooked. He scrabbled over Emma’s arm in a panic, accidentally clawing at her wrist so that she squeaked and dropped the food bowl.

[Êàðòèíêà: _30.jpg]

The bowl smashed on the tiles with a huge crash, and Sammy yowled in fright. He raced round the side of the crate, but the table was pushed up against the wall below the window and there was nowhere to go. Frantically, he clawed his way up the curtains, digging his tiny claws into the fabric.

[Êàðòèíêà: _31.jpg]

Sammy hung there, swaying a little. He didn’t really understand what had happened. He’d been about to eat his food – he could smell it – and then suddenly everything was different and terrifying. Now he didn’t even know where he was, or how he’d got so high up.

The curtain fabric ripped a little under his weight, and he slid down a few centimetres with a frightened mew. He tried to claw his way back up again, but the shiny fabric was difficult to climb, and he slipped further down.

“Sammy, it’s all right…” Emma’s voice, low and soothing. And now he wasn’t falling any more. Her hands were around him, the way they were when she fed him sometimes. After struggling for a moment, he let her unhook his paws from the few last threads of the curtains, and sat tensely in her hands, ears back and fur fluffed up.

[Êàðòèíêà: _32.jpg]

She lifted him down, still whispering gently, and slid him back into the crate. Sammy backed away from the door anxiously, but the strange person had gone now, he could see. It was just Emma. He knew her. She was safe.

[Êàðòèíêà: _33.jpg]

“Emma! You’re still up!”

Emma jerked awake. Mum was standing in the living-room doorway, looking surprised.

“Sorry,” said Auntie Grace. “Emma was upset, I didn’t want to make her go to bed…”

“What happened?” Dad asked, just at the same time as Mum noticed Emma’s scratched wrist and swooped down to check it.

“Emma, you’ve hurt yourself! Oh no, was it Sammy?”

“He didn’t mean to.” Emma looked sleepily at Dad and Mum. “It was an accident. And, um, I broke his food bowl. Sorry… We swept it up.”

“What’s been going on?” Dad sat down on the arm of the sofa, and Mum came to sit next to Emma.

Emma sighed. She was so tired it was hard to explain.“I went to feed him, but he was scared of Auntie Grace.”

“It was my fault. I should have thought, of course, he’s never seen me before,” Auntie Grace put in. “And he’s a bit more nervous than most kittens. I frightened him and he jumped out of the crate and scratched Emma by accident.”

“And that made me drop his bowl, and he got even more scared and ran up the curtains.”

“Oh my goodness,” Mum muttered.

“I’m afraid he did tear them a bit,” Auntie Grace went on slowly. “But he’s back in the crate now and he’s calmed down. In fact, last time Emma checked he was asleep, wasn’t he?”

Emma nodded.

Mum leaned back against the sofa and let out a huge sigh.“I knew this was a mistake. We should never have brought him home. He was so upset when we took him away from the stables and his mum. I just don’t think it’s fair.”

“Mum!” Emma gasped.

“Oh, Emma. You have to see I’m right – just look at your wrist!”

Emma looked down at the three long red lines, and the little scratches that she’d got all over her hands when she was taking Sammy off the curtains. They were sore, but it hadn’t been Sammy’s fault. He was just scared – he hadn’t meant to hurt her.

[Êàðòèíêà: _34.jpg]

Mum put her arm round Emma.“I know how hard you’ve tried with Sammy, but he might not be the right cat for us after all. He needs to go to a shelter, I think. Where they’ve got people who are used to looking after cats like him.”

“I’m not sure,” Dad said. “I know Sammy was difficult when we brought him home, but he is getting better.”

“Getting better!” Mum stared at him. “Emma’s covered in scratches!”

“I don’t think it’s that big a deal,” Auntie Grace said gently. “Even Whisky scratches me sometimes, if I go to pick him up and he just doesn’t feel like it.”

Mum sighed again.“I’m sorry, Emma, but he’s too unpredictable. I’m not sure he’s ever going to be really friendly. Maybe he needs a home more like the stables, where he doesn’t have to be around people if he doesn’t want to.”

“Mum, please don’t send him away!” Emma wailed. “I don’t want any other cat, only Sammy! He’ll be fine, he will. I’ll do anything to keep him.” She stared pleadingly at her mum, tears trickling down her cheeks. She couldn’t bear the thought of poor Sammy going to a shelter – somewhere else strange and new and frightening. He’d have to start all over again, and soon it would be too late to tame him. He’d be shy and wild forever.

“Look, just give us a few more weeks, love,” Dad suggested. “Of course today’s a bit of a setback, but we have to keep trying.”

“Two more weeks.” Mum looked from Emma to Dad and back again. “We have to be able to tell by then, don’t we?”

Dad nodded slowly.“All right. Emma?”

“I suppose so,” Emma whispered huskily. She was so upset her voice seemed to have disappeared. Two weeks! It was no time at all.

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“What’s the matter?” Keira asked, as she led Jasmine past Emma and Sparky. “Is Sparky being a pain about getting tacked up again? You look, well, a bit sad…” she trailed off, not sure what to say. Emma looked like she might be about to cry.

“No.” Emma sniffed. “Actually Sparky’s been a total star. Maybe he can tell I just can’t deal with a tricksy pony today.”

“Oh no, what is it?” Keira swapped Jasmine’s reins to her other hand and gave Emma a hug. “Don’t cry!”

“I can’t help it.” Emma’s voice shook. “Mum says we might have to give Sammy to a shelter. She thinks we can’t cope with him.”

“But wasn’t it going really well?” Keira said, confused. “You showed me that photo your dad took of him eating off your fingers. He looked so happy.”

“He’s still jumpy, though,” Emma gulped. “Mum thinks he’s not going to adapt to living in a house. He got scared last night because my auntie was there and he scratched me. I didn’t mind – not much – but Mum was really upset about it. She says we’ve got two weeks to prove he can be a proper pet, or he has to go.” She could hardly get the last words out, she was crying so much.

Keira hugged her tighter, and even Sparky and Jasmine leaned in close, as if they wanted to make Emma feel better.

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“Two weeks is a long time,” Keira said. “Honestly, it really is. And I saw how friendly and tame he was with you here. You nearly hadme stroking him, Emma, and I’m scared of cats!”

“I suppose so…” Emma said, between gasps. “It doesn’t feel like long, though. If he goes to a shelter he’ll be all lost and alone. It’ll be awful.”

“Then you absolutely have to make sure it doesn’t happen,” Keira said firmly. “I’ll see if I can think of anything to help.” She gave Emma one last hug. “Ems, we have to go. Liz is waving at us. She wants us to try those dressage aids today, remember?”

Emma nodded and sniffed hard.“I’m OK. I’m so glad I told you about it, Keira. I do actually feel a bit happier.”

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Emma grabbed her riding hat from the back seat and looked anxiously at Auntie Grace’s purple car parked outside their house.

“It’s all right,” Dad said soothingly. “She said she wouldn’t go near Sammy. Although we will have to try and get him used to meeting new people eventually. She’s got something for you.”

Emma hurried down the path, curious to see what Auntie Grace had brought. She had a feeling it was something important– not just a magazine or some chocolate to cheer her up, but something that really mattered.

“Emma! I’m so glad you got back before I had to go to work. Look, I’ve brought you this.” Auntie Grace whirled out of the front door on to the path. “Here. I really hope it helps.”

Emma looked down at the book that her aunt had pressed into her hands–Taming Feral Kittens. There was a gorgeous little ginger kitten on the front of it, with a shy, worried look on his face that made Emma think of Sammy at once.

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“I got it at the animal shelter. I thought I’d go and ask them if they had any tips for you. They were so friendly and helpful. This was written by someone who used to work there, and they said to call if you get really stuck. I wrote the number inside the cover for you.” She hugged Emma. “Sweetheart, if Sammy does have to go there, they will look after him, I promise.”

Emma nodded.“But it’s not going to happen,” she said firmly. “This is brilliant, Auntie Grace. I’m going to go and read it now.”

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Sammy sat in the doorway of the crate, looking out suspiciously. Everything was different– the crate had been moved down on to the floor, and he didn’t like that, for a start. He preferred to be high up, so he could see who was coming. High up was safe.

But he liked the open door. He thought he did, anyway. He sniffed the air beyond the crate, his whiskers twitching. He could step out, right on to the floor. He could explore. Cautiously, he extended one paw over the door frame, and then the next, and then his two back paws.

He stood nervously just outside the crate, watching, scanning the room. Emma was there, sitting in the corner, and her dad was over by the counter. She wasn’t looking at him – she was gazing off into the distance as if she hadn’t noticed what he was doing. Sammy took a few steps out into the room and sniffed.

Food! He could definitely smell food. He was sure it was well past his usual feeding time. He’d been expecting Emma to bring food, but instead she and her dad had lifted his crate down on to the floor. Determinedly, he stomped across the floor, towards the smell. Emma had his bowl on her lap. He stopped a few steps away from her, looking uncertainly at the bowl. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go any closer, but he was hungry.

His tail swished from side to side, and then he made a panicked little run, flinging himself at the bowl. What if she took it away? Sammy climbed up on Emma’s leg and started to gobble down the food as quickly as he could.

“It’s all right,” Emma murmured. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Sammy’s ears flickered, but he didn’t stop eating. Then he felt her stroking him, very gently running her hand over his shoulders and down his back. It was nice – it felt like his mother licking him. He slowed his eating down a little, almost sure that the bowl wasn’t going to be taken away.

At last, he’d finished the whole bowl. He licked round it carefully and then sniffed it to make sure there wasn’t any more. There wasn’t, but he was full anyway.

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Slowly, carefully, he settled down into a crouch on Emma’s lap. She was still stroking him, so gently. Sammy stretched out his paws and kneaded them up and down on Emma’s skirt. Then he closed his eyes and purred.

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Emma tucked the phone under her chin so she could talk to Auntie Grace and have both hands free for scrabbling after the ping-pong ball as Sammy sent it skittering around all over the floor.

“It really works,” she told her aunt, a little breathlessly. “We started on Sunday after I’d had time to read the book. All this week, we’ve only fed him with the bowl on me or Dad, so that he has to come to us to get his food. And he’s always hungry, so it works perfectly. The very first time we tried it, he let me stroke him and he even purred! I’m starting to think he actually does like me,” she added shyly.

“Of course he does. Oh, that’s wonderful, Emma! I felt awful when your mum said you might have to give him up.”

“Me, too. But I’m so hoping she’s going to let me keep him. She was laughing at him this morning, when he was playing with his feathery toy before school. He kept almost falling over backwards, he was trying so hard to catch it.” Emma threw the ping-pong ball again for Sammy. “We’re doing the next thing it says in the book now. He’s going to be allowed out in the kitchen all the time, not just for food time and playing. His bed and his litter tray are still in the crate, but we’ll leave it open so he can come and go when he wants to.”

“And then I suppose you’ll bring his bed out, and eventually get rid of the crate?”

“Exactly. I don’t know how long it’s going to take, though. The book says it depends on the kitten. Oh, Sammy!”

“What did he do?” Auntie Grace laughed at the other end of the line.

“He chased after the ball so fast he ran into the cupboard. He’s fine, he just looks a bit confused. One minute.” Emma laid the phone on the floor and wriggled closer to Sammy, murmuring comforting noises. She was sure that he looked embarrassed, if a kitten could. His ears had gone flat.

“It’s OK,” she whispered and without thinking about it, she scooped Sammy gently into her hands and snuggled him up against her cardigan. “Oh… I didn’t mean to…” It was the first time she’d ever picked him up. But Sammy hadn’t clawed her, or jumped away in fright. He was huddledagainst her, so tiny and fragile that she could feel his heart beating under her fingers. “You don’t mind?” she murmured. “Oh, Sammy, I do love you…”

“Hey…” Dad whispered from the doorway. “He looks happy!”

“Dad, can you pick up the phone?” Emma whispered. “I was talking to Auntie Grace. She must be wondering what happened to me. Can you tell her I’ll call her later?”

Dad chuckled.“Sure. I’ll tell her you’re occupied with some very important business.”

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“Are you sure?” Emma looked worriedly at Keira. “I mean, I’d love it if you came over for lunch. But I know how you feel about cats.”

“Exactly,” Keira called back, as she hefted Jasmine’s saddle over to the tackroom. “And so does your mum. So if even silly Keira isn’t scared of playing with Sammy, he must be OK as a pet, mustn’t he? The two weeks are up, aren’t they? We need to show your mum how good Sammy is.”

“Two weeks yesterday. I haven’t wanted to ask Mum what’s happening.” Emma sighed. “And I never said you were silly,” she added quickly.

Keira grinned.“I know. But I am silly. I can’t even say what it is that makes me frightened of cats. They just make me so nervous.”

“I don’t want you to be miserable.” Emma frowned. “And…” She nibbled her bottom lip. “If you’re nervous it might make Sammy nervous, too,” she explained. “He was all right with Auntie Grace when she came over in the week. She was really good, she just sat on the floor completelystill until he was brave enough to sniff at her. But she’s used to cats and she wasn’t scared.”

“I won’t be scared, either,” Keira said. “I promise. I said I’d try to think of something I could do to help, and this is it. I’ll be brave.” She smiled at Emma. “Honestly. I’ll be fine.”

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“He’s in here, in the kitchen.” Emma looked back at Keira. She could see her mum hovering behind her friend, with an anxious expression on her face. Mum obviously wasn’t sure about this – neither was Emma, to be honest. But Keira seemed so certain. She’d explained to Emma’s mum in thecar that she wanted to try and stop being scared of cats, and that she knew she’d be OK with Sammy because he was so little.

Emma opened the door slowly and peered round.“Oh, he’s asleep in his basket. Actually, that’s good. How about we sit on the floor for a bit? We can have a snack, and then when he wakes up we can let him come and see you.”

Keira nodded. She was quite pale, Emma thought. But she looked determined, too.“That’s a good idea.”

Emma took her hand, pulling her gently into the kitchen to sit down half under the table. That would give Sammy plenty of space to look at them properly before he got out of his basket. Keira even giggled when Emma’s mum handed them a plate of cheese cubes and apple to eat under there. “It’s like being really small and making tents under the table. Did you ever do that?” she whispered.

“Yes! Hey, I think he’s waking up.” Emma glanced at her. “Sure you’re all right?”

“Mm-hm.”

Emma could feel Keira tensing up beside her. Maybe itwas a stupid idea, after all. But it was too late to do anything about it now.

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Sammy stretched and yawned, and popped his head up out of his basket to see what was happening. He was hungry and he could smell something delicious. Not his normal food, but that only made it more exciting. He twitched his ears forward and gazed at Emma under the table. Emma and someone else. He flicked his tail from side to side worriedly. It wasn’t someone he knew, but she was sitting quite still. She had some of whatever it was that smelled so nice, he could see it in her hands. And she was holding it very close to the floor…

Sammy hopped out of his basket and set off across the floor, his whiskers trembling as he smelled the cheese. He nudged his head against Emma’s feet on the way, as if to say that she belonged to him. But he was still more interested in the cheese. He padded between Emma’s legs and the new girl’s, and sniffed hopefully at the girl’s fingers. She was holding that piece of cheese as if she didn’t really want it at all.

He froze for a second, ears flickering, expecting someone to shoo him away. But no one did. Swiftly, Sammy swooped the scrap out of her hand and gulped it down, savouring every crumb.

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Then he licked Keira’s fingers, just to check he hadn’t missed any. He felt her laugh – her fingers shook – but there was no more cheese. He gave her one last lick, and turned to scramble up into Emma’s lap. He could still smell cheese, and he was sure that if Emma had any, she’d give it to him. He hauled himself up her leggings, breathing hard, and half fell into her lap. Then he sat there and gave a massive yawn, showing all his tiny sharp teeth and his raspberry-pink tongue.

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“He’s gorgeous,” Keira whispered, sounding quite surprised.

“You didn’t mind when he licked you?” Emma asked. She couldn’t stop smiling – Sammy had perched himself on her lap like he belonged.

Keira wrinkled her nose.“Actually, I was really scared. But he’s so little – I just kept thinking I could run out if I couldn’t deal with it.”

“Oh, Keira,” Emma’s mum murmured. “Do you want to go into the other room?”

Keira shook her head.“No, I think it’s OK,” she said cautiously. “He’s really good.”

Emma’s mum nodded. “I suppose he is.” She smiled at Emma. “So, are you having lunch under the table, then?”

“I don’t think we’d actually get much of our lunch if we did that.” Slowly, carefully, Emma moved on to her knees, cuddling Sammy against her fleece top as she stood up and went to sit on one of the kitchen chairs. She was waiting for him to leap away, but Sammy only stretched his neck out so he could peer over the edge of the table at the plate of sandwiches that her mum was putting down.

Keira laughed.“He’s eyeing the food as though you never feed him, Emma.”

“He needn’t think he’s making a habit of sitting on your lap at mealtimes,” Mum said sternly. “Just this once.”

Emma stared at her delightedly.“You mean…”

Her mum nodded.“Yes – I was talking to your dad about it last night. Sammy’s so much happier now. Oh, Emma, watch out, he’s going for that ham sandwich!” She quickly pulled the plate back, and Sammy looked disappointed.

“I’ll get you a bit in a minute,” Emma whispered in his ear. “A whole sandwich, if you like!”

Sammy yawned again and purred a little and rubbed his face against her hand. Then he nuzzled at Emma’s top, and pawed his way gently over the zip, snuggling down inside.

Emma looked down lovingly at the little tabby kitten curled up inside her fleece.“Sammy, you’re staying!”

34. THE CURIOUS KITTEN

Amber rolled the jingly cat ball down the length of the hallway and giggled as Cleo flung herself after it, her paws slipping on the wooden floor. She loved the way the kitten took chasing the ball so seriously!

Her mum opened the kitchen door and gasped as she almost tripped over the skidding kitten.“Oh, Cleo! I nearly kicked you. Are you all right?”

But Cleo didn’t even seem to have noticed. She had finally caught her jingly ball and was rolling over and over with it, growling fierce kitten growls.

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“I don’t think that ball’s coming out alive,” Mum commented, smiling. “Amber, did you finish sorting out all your new pencils and things for school? Have you packed them in your rucksack?”

Amber nodded.“Everything’s ready.” She got up, looking worriedly between Mum and Cleo. “Mum, what’s going to happen to Cleo while I’m at school?”

“What do you mean, what’s going to happen to her?” Mum looked confused.

“I’m worried she’s going to be bored,” Amber explained. “She’s not really been on her own that much, has she?”

Amber’s family had got Cleo from a local cat shelter right at the beginning of the summer holidays. Amber had been desperate to get a kitten for ages, and her parents had finally agreed. Mum and Dad and her big sister, Sara, had spent ages sitting with her on the sofa, looking at the website. But as soon as Amber had seen the photo of Cleo with her brothers and sisters, Amber had known that she was the one. Amber never seen such a gorgeous cat. Cleo was a really unusual colour – mostly ginger, but with big dark patches and huge black ears that looked like she needed to grow into them.

Amber had spent the whole holiday playing with Cleo– it was amazing how many mad games a kitten could invent to play with just a piece of string. Or a feather. Or even the flowers on Amber’s flip-flops. She was going to miss Cleo so much – and she had a feeling Cleo was going to miss her, too. Even though Cleo was officially a family cat, andeveryone played with her, Amber did most of the looking after. She loved feeding Cleo and making sure she always had clean water – it made her feel that the kitten was just a little bit more hers.

“She’s always had me and Sara at home to play with,” Amber went on.

“I see what you mean.” Mum gave her a hug. “She’ll be fine, Amber. Cats are quite independent, you know. And think how much time Cleo spends snoozing! She’ll just save up her playtime for when we’re all home. Anyway, I’ll be around some of the time – you know I only do half days. Cleo can distract me from all the marking I’ve got to do!”

“I suppose so,” Amber agreed, a bit doubtfully. Cleo did sleep a lot. She was still only small, and she didn’t seem to understand taking things easy. She’d race around until she was exhausted and then collapse in a little furry tortoiseshell heap. Amber loved it when she flumped down with her paws in the air!

She wriggled the ball out from between Cleo’s paws and rolled it back down the hallway again. “I’m worried that she’ll be bored and find a way to get round the front of the house. She thinks the front garden must be the most exciting thing ever, just because we won’t let her go out there. She nearly escaped again yesterday, when the postman brought that parcel.”

Her mum made a face.“I honestly don’t think we can do much about that. We’ll just have to make sure she doesn’t slip out. I think the noise of the cars would put her off going on the road anyway.”

Mum didn’t look all that sure, though, and Amber sighed. One of their neighbours had a cat who’d been run over and badly hurt, and she hated to think of anything like that happening to Cleo. She was sure Cleo was very clever, but kittens weren’t known for being sensible. If Cleo saw something interesting on the other side of the road, Amber was almost certain she’d chase after it. And it wasn’t as if she could train Cleo to look both ways first.

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Cleo sniffed curiously at the bags in the hallway. Today felt different. Everyone was rushing around. She whisked behind one of the rucksacks as Sara came dashing past and nearly stepped on her tail. She crouched there, watching as Amber and Sara chased up and down the stairs, looking for things they’d forgotten. Their mum was standing in the hallway, glancing at her watch.

“Come on, you two! I thought you said you’d got everything ready last night? We really do need to go – I’ve got a staff meeting before school.”

“I’m here, I’m ready.” Amber jumped down the last two steps and looked around for her bag and shoes. “I just wanted to find a photo of Cleo to show my friends. Hardly anyone’s seen her yet – only Maisie and Lila when they came over.”

“I’m ready, too,” Sara said, sighing. “I can’t believe we’re going back to school – it feels as if the holidays have only just started. And everyone says Year Eight means loads more homework.” Sara’s secondary school wasn’t that far from the house, but she usually got a lift with Mum and Amber in the mornings and walked back home with her friends.

“I shouldn’t think anyone will give you much on the first day,” her mum replied. “Come on. Grab your stuff and let’s get in the car.”

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Cleo opened her mouth in a silent mew of surprise as the bag in front of her disappeared. And then she realized– the front door was open!

“Oh, Cleo, no! Sara, stop her!” Amber called out. She was all mixed up with her PE bag and rucksack and she still only had one shoe on.

Sara crouched down to try and field the kitten, but Cleo jinked expertly around her reaching hands and skipped out on to the doorstep.

Cleo caught the different outdoor smells as she leaped down the step and then darted off to investigate the wheelie bins. She’d only managed to get out into the front garden a couple of times, and she wanted to explore.

“Did you get her?” Amber came hurrying up to her sister.

“No, she was just too speedy!” Sara gasped. “Sorry! I think she’s gone behind the bins. Here, Cleo! Come on… Puss, puss!”

Mum sighed.“How does she know when we’re in a hurry? Amber, can you catch her? Try not to let her go under the car – it’ll take ages to get her back out again.”

Amber crouched down beside the bins. The kitten was in the flower bed now, peering out through the pink geraniums.

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Cleo gazed up at her with round green eyes. She didn’t understand why they made such a fuss about her beinghere, when no one minded if she went through her cat flap into the back garden. She looked around, eyeing the pavement and the road beyond. There were interesting smells out there– more cats and other things, too. But the cars speeding past were so loud that she’d never dared to do more than peek round the edge of the garden wall. She wanted to, though. She was working up to it.

“There!” Amber reached through the flowers and grabbed her, and Cleo snuggled up against her school cardigan. The kitten didn’t mind being caught, not really. Especially because Amber always gave her cat treats when she brought her back in.

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Cleo dived out of the cat flap and shook her ears crossly. She didn’t like the way it banged behind her – it always made her feel jumpy. She licked at the fur on her white front until she felt calmer and then strolled out on to the patio. The garden was very bright, and there were fat bees blundering through the lavender bush. She could even hear a bird rustling in the apple tree at the far end. But somehow the back garden didn’t seem quite as exciting as it usually did.

Cleo sat on the patio, feeling the warm afternoon sun on her fur and wondering what to do. She had slept for a lot of the morning, and now she wanted to play. Amber’s mum was working on her computer, and she’d stroked Cleo for a bit. But when Cleo had tried to pounce on her keyboard, she’d shooed her away. Cleo was used to playing with Amber, and she missed her. It wasn’t as much fun being on her own. She could chase down the garden after that bird orwriggle into the lavender and swipe at the bees. But she never seemed to catch anything… When would Amber come back?

Then her ears flattened and she sprang up, stalking across the patio to the bench by the garden wall. Amber had gone out of the front door. Perhaps she was at the front of the house somewhere. If she hopped up on to the bench, she wouldn’t be that far from the top of the wall…

Cleo wriggled her bottom and leaped, scrambling from the arm of the bench into the twiggy mass of jasmine that was growing up the wall. She clawed and scrabbled and pulled her way up on to the top. Half her fur was standing on end and it was full of tiny green leaves, but she had done it. She was almost sure this wall led round to the front of the house, where Amber was.

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Cleo paced along the top of the wall, then over the flat roof of the garage. She dropped back down on to the wall again where it ran along the side of the little front garden. She had to pick her way carefully through the tall plants that grew up against it, but eventually she reached the front of the garden, where the wall was lower and half-hidden by bushes. She perched between the bushes, looking out on to the street.

“Cleo!”

The kitten peered curiously round the bushes and saw Amber racing down the street towards her, with her rucksack bouncing against her shoulders. Cleo stood up and purred, arching her back proudly. She’d been right! Amberwas here! Amber would see that she’d been clever and climbed the wall. As Amber ran up to her, Cleo purred even louder and leaned down to rub her head against Amber’s shoulder.

“Oh, Cleo,” she murmured lovingly, “you’re so naughty! How did you get out here? Mum, look!”

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“Cleo!” Amber’s mum stared at the kitten. “I made absolutely sure she didn’t slip past me when I left to get you from school. She was in the house this afternoon – I know she was. She tried to sit on the computer while I was working.”

Amber gently scooped the little kitten off the top of the wall. She held Cleo against her shoulder as Mum went to unlock the front door.“But that means she must have got round the house by herself,” Amber said, looking up at the garden wall. “She can’t have done… That wall’s so high for her to jump up to, and then she had to get on to the garage roof!”

Cleo looked up at the wall, too, and purred smugly into Amber’s ear.

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Now that Cleo had worked out how to climb the wall in the back garden, she was desperate to try it again. Amber had homework to do– which she thought was really unfair on her first day back. She left Cleo gobbling down her tea, hoping she would come and find her when she’d finished. But Cleo had other ideas, and when Amber’s dad came home from work he was met by a purring kitten on the path.

Dad laughed as Cleo danced happily around his feet and he crouched down to fuss over her.“You’re not meant to be out here, little miss. Did you slip out? Come on, then.”

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He opened the front door and called out,“Look who I found!”

Amber and Sara peered over the top of the stairs.

“Oh no! Was she out at the front again?” Amber hurried down to scoop Cleo up. “She’s definitely learned to climb the wall, then. Mum said she must have done it earlier, but I thought Cleo might have sneaked out without her noticing. She was on the front wall when I came home!”

“She was only in the front garden.” Dad looked round at Amber as he hung up his jacket. “I don’t think she’ll come to any harm.”

“What about the road, though?” Amber sighed worriedly and then laughed as Cleo’s head butted into her chin. “Oh, Cleo, are you telling me not to fuss?”

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“How’s Cleo?”Amber’s friend Maisie asked in class a couple of days later, spotting the photo that Amber had stuck on the front of her planner. “Has she learned any more tricks?” Amber had told her about all the games she’d invented with Cleo.

Amber rolled her eyes.“Yes! She’s learned how to scramble on to the back wall, then climb all the way over the garage roof so she can get into the front garden.”

Lila leaned over the table.“Why? What’s so exciting about your front garden?”

“Who knows?” Amber sighed. “But it’s got a road in front of it, that’s the problem. There’s this really nice lady who lives down our street, Susan. Her cat got run over last year. He crawled back in through the cat flap with a broken leg. He had to have an operation to fix the bone backtogether with metal pins. Then he had to live in a cat crate for two months to stop him walking on it.”

“But that’s not going to happen to Cleo,” Lila said comfortingly.

“It might do.” Amber ran her finger over Cleo’s whiskers in the photo – they were so white, and they fanned out like she had a moustache. “She’s only little and she doesn’t know what cars are. The people across the road are starting to have an extension built this week. Mum was telling me. She was saying it might be tricky to get out of our driveway because of all the builders’ vans and things. So that’s loads more traffic to worry about.”

“I’m sure it will be OK…” put in a quiet voice.

Amber looked over at the other side of the table, a bit surprised. The two classes in the year had been mixed around again, and she didn’t know George very well. He’d always been in the other class in her year. She’d not seen him on her way to school, either, so she guessed he didn’t live very close by. They’d been on the same table for a week now, but George hadn’t said much at all.

“My mum’s cat, Pirate, goes up and down our street, and he does cross the road sometimes. But he’s really careful. I bet your kitten will just learn what to do.”

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“George is right,” Lila agreed. “Cats are clever. I’m sure Cleo will learn how to cross the road, no problem.”

“Maybe,” Amber said. She loved how Cleo was so curious – it made her even more fun to play with. But it also meant that she liked to explore everything. She sighed to herself as Mr Evans told them to stop chatting and settle down. She was probably worrying too much – it was the first time they’d had a pet, after all. She just couldn’t help that little nagging feeling that Cleo was too nosy for her own good.

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Cleo sat perched on the front wall, peering out from under a climbing rose and eyeing the men working on the other side of the road. There was one big truck, with a crane lifting off huge pallets of bricks. Then there were two smaller vans and lots of people going backwards and forwards between them and the house. She wanted to get closer to see what was going on.

The road was in between her and the action, though, and she didn’t like the way the cars roared and growled as they shot past. Yesterday, after a few days of exploring the front garden, she’d actually ventured out on to the pavement. At first she’d just stood by the gate, flinching back when a car came past. But they all seemed to stick to the road, and she was sure the pavement looked safe enough.

She’d crept along the bottom of the wall, keeping well away from the road. Then a car had sped by. Cleo had felt the rumbling of the road under her paws and smelled the exhaust, and she’d raced back to the safety of the garden.

She still wasn’t quite brave enough to cross the road and investigate the unusual things that were happening on the other side. Cleo edged between two bushes as another van came driving up. But this time when the van stopped it was onher side of the road.

Cleo wriggled out between the thick stems, her whiskers twitching. The driver was getting out– Cleo could see his heavy boots walking round the side of the van. Then he opened up the back doors and lifted out a box, which he carried across the road to the interesting house on the other side.

Almost without realizing it, Cleo was padding eagerly out into the middle of the pavement. The van was new and exciting, and she wanted to see what was in it.

Then the man was coming back. Cleo ducked under the sprawling fuchsia bush in the garden next door. Amber and Sara always tried to grab her when she went out at the front of the house. She didn’t want this man to catch her now and stop her exploring. But the man didn’t even notice her. He just unloaded another box and set off across the road again, leaving the van’s back doors open.

[Êàðòèíêà: _12.jpg]

As Cleo edged out of the bush, she came to a sudden halt. Her collar was caught on the wiry branches. She pulled at it crossly. She hated collars. When the safety catch came open, she tossed her head briskly from side to side, enjoying the freedom. Then she hurried out from under the bush, shaking the dry leaves from her fur.

Cleo sniffed at the tyres of the van and then stretched up, putting her front paws on the little back step. The van was full of boxes, some old sacks, a folded plastic sheet and all sorts of fascinating things. There were dark corners and good smells to investigate, too.

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She jumped up, scrabbling to get her back legs on to the step, and clambered into the van. It was dusty, which made her sneeze, but that didn’t put her off. She prowled further inside and rubbed up against one of the boxes. She liked this place and she wanted to mark it as hers.

Suddenly there was a shout from outside and the sound of footsteps approaching. Cleo froze, laying her ears back. What was happening? Was someone coming to chase her out? She backed between the box and a pile of sacks and watched, round-eyed, as the doors at the back of the van swung shut with a slam.

She was trapped.

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Amber turned to her mum, smiling in relief.“It’s OK! Cleo’s not in the front garden. She must have decided to stay round the back today.”

Mum nodded.“Maybe the novelty’s worn off.”

All the same, Amber was a little bit hurt that Cleo didn’t come rushing to see her as she stepped into the house. Whenever they’d been out over the summer holidays, she’d always come to greet them. As soon as she heard the door bang, she would come dashing downstairs from Amber’s room, where she’d been asleep on her bed. Or sometimes she was sitting on the living-room windowsill, watching to see them drive up.

The house felt oddly quiet and empty without a little tortoiseshell cat twirling around her feet.“Cleo!” Amber called up the stairs. “Cleo, where are you?”

Mum pushed the front door shut and looked around in surprise.“Isn’t she here? She’s usually desperate for us to feed her when we get in from school.”

“I know…” Amber said. “Cleo! Cleo!” She hurried through to the kitchen and out into the back garden. But no kitten came galloping over the grass to meet her. The garden was empty and still, with just a few birds twittering in the trees.

Amber trailed back inside, feeling worried.

Her mum was emptying one of Cleo’s pouches of kitten food into her bowl and she glanced up as Amber came in. She put down the pouch, looking thoughtful. “No sign of her?” she asked.

Amber shook her head.

“Thatis odd. Go and check upstairs, Amber. She might have got shut in one of the bedrooms.”

Amber smiled.“I didn’t think about that! I hope she hasn’t made a mess in Sara’s room. Sara got really cross when Cleo tipped over all her hairbands and stuff the other day.”

She raced upstairs, but all the bedroom doors were ajar. She checked the airing cupboard on the landing, just in case, but she wasn’t in there… Or in Sara’s wardrobe, or hers, or Mum and Dad’s. She wasn’t anywhere at all.

“Mum, I don’t know where she can be,” Amber said, bursting back into the kitchen. She was trying very hard not to cry. Mum would only say she was getting in a state about nothing. But this really didn’t feel like nothing. Cleo never missed meals.

Mum put her arm round Amber’s shoulders. “Sit down for a moment, have a drink, and let’s think about this.” She handed Amber some squash and pushed her gently into a chair. “Cleo was around just before lunch when I went into school. And we know she’s been getting more adventurous lately, going over the wall into the front garden. She’s probably just gone further than before. After all, you’ve only been back at school a week. Cleo doesn’t really know what time you come home, does she? And the fact I’m working different times of day probably confuses her, too.”

“I suppose so…”

“I expect she’ll be back in a minute, yowling if we don’t get her food in front of her before the cat flap bangs shut.”

Amber tried to laugh, but she couldn’t quite manage it.

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Cleo stood perched on the pile of old sacks, mewing anxiously. She didn’t understand why the doors had closed so suddenly. All she knew was that now she couldn’t get out. She started to pick her way carefully between the boxes back towards the doors. Perhaps when she got closer she’d find a way to escape. When she pushed on doors in the house, sometimes they opened. Although sometimes they didn’t… She scampered up to the doors and scrabbled at them with her front paws. They were shut tight.

There was a growling noise and then suddenly the van lurched, and Cleo slipped over sideways with a little squeak of fright. She’d only been in a car a few times, when she was brought home from the shelter and for trips to the vet. She’d always travelled in a comfortable basket, padded with a blanket, though. She slid across the floor of the van as it pulled out into the road, meowing frantically. She hadn’t meant forthis to happen at all.

Cleo pressed herself into a small dark space under a storage locker that had been built for tools. It was a tight fit, but it made her feel safer. Nothing could get at her under here. She squashed herself back against the cold metal of the van’s wall and waited.

Eventually the van seemed to slow down, and then it lurched to a stop. The noisy engine was turned off, leaving Cleo’s ears buzzing. There was a crunching, clashing sound, and the doors swung open. Cleo wriggled her nose out of the tiny gap and tried to see what was happening. She could smell the fresh air coming in through the open doors, and she desperately wanted to race for them. But there was so much noise. She darted back into her safe hiding place as a huge box slid past her with a shriek of metal on metal and shivered. What if more of the boxes moved as she ran for the doors? She had to try, though.

Cleo laid her ears back close to her head and crept out. With her tummy pressed against the floor of the van, she edged across to the doors.

[Êàðòèíêà: _16.jpg]

She could see the road outside, and her whiskers twitched with the warm smells of the sunny afternoon. But just as she was getting ready to jump down, the doors clanged shut. She was trapped once more.

Cleo flung herself at the doors with a desperate wail, banging her paws against the hard metal. The doors didn’t budge. She should have run for it when she could! Furious and frightened, she stomped back across the van, the fur all along her spine raised, her tail fluffed up. What was going to happen now? What if she never got out?

Miserably aware of how hungry and thirsty and lonely she felt, Cleo meowed as loudly as she could, hoping that Amber would come, the way she always did.Surely Amber would come and rescue her…

[Êàðòèíêà: _4.jpg]

“Amber, I don’t think she can have been hit by a car,” Mum said gently, as Amber’s dad came into the kitchen and hung his laptop bag over a chair. “We’d have heard. Cleo’s microchipped. If she’d been taken to a vet, they would have called my mobile.”

Amber had searched everywhere she could think of. She’d opened every cupboard in the house, remembering the day when Dad had accidentally shut Cleo in the cupboard under the stairs. And then she’d gone back and checked all the drawers, too. When Sara had got home from school, the sisters had gone down their road calling for her, while Mum had checked the garage and the shed. But Cleo was nowhere to be found. And what made it even worse was that Amber and Sara had found her collar under one of the bushes in front of the house next door. So now even if someone found her, they wouldn’t know the number to call.

“What’s up? Has Cleo disappeared?” Dad asked, giving Amber a hug. “She’s probably just out exploring.”

“Well, that’s what I said,” Mum sighed. “But it’s six o’clock, Dan. She normally has her dinner about four. It’s really unusual for her not to turn up for that.”

“And now we’ve found her collar,” Amber said shakily, pointing to it on the kitchen table. “So we know she was out at the front of the house. What if she’s been run over?”

“No, your mum’s right. I’m sure someone would have found her and let us know, Amber.” Dad frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe she is lost, though. She’s only little – she could just have got confused about where she was going. How about I have another quick look along the street?”

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When Dad came back a while later, he had to admit that he hadn’t seen any sign of Cleo, either. As Amber picked at her dinner, she kept thinking of the open cat food pouch, which Mum had folded over and put in the fridge. Cleo must be so hungry, wherever she was.

“Try not to worry, Amber,” Mum said, as she turned off Amber’s light at bedtime. “She’ll probably be back in the morning.”

“You’re not sure…”

Mum sighed.“No, I can’t beabsolutely sure. I really do think she will be, though.”

Amber pulled the duvet over her head. She was desperate to sleep so that she could wake up and find Cleo stomping up and down her bed, purring and mewing until Amber got up and fed her her breakfast. But she lay awake for what seemed like hours, imagining the kitten hungry or lonely or, worst of all, hurt.

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Cleo woke the next morning feeling stiff and cold. She had slept on the pile of sacks, but they weren’t very comfortable, not compared to her soft basket. She was also desperately hungry. She had never gone for so long without a meal – or without Amber to stroke her and fuss over her and play with her.

She sat up, shaking out her paws, and licked at the fur on her shoulders and neck. She felt so dusty and dirty in here. But washing only made her realize how much she needed a drink of water.

Cleo froze suddenly, with one paw lifted ready to sweep over her ear– she could hear footsteps. Someone was coming! She ducked behind a large crate and watched eagerly as the van doors swung open. Hands reached into the van and a box of tools clanked down loudly. Cleo edged forward. She crept round the boxes until she was just by the doors and waited for the footsteps to move further away again. Her heart was galloping – this was her chance!

Cleo jumped down on to the road and scurried under the van. She needed to stop and think about what to do next. She had hoped that once she was out of the van she would see her house, her garden wall and maybe even Amber. Although she knew that the van had moved, it had no windows in the back, and she didn’t really understand that it had travelled from one place to another. So she was deeply confused when she realized that she was somewhere different – somewhere that did not smell familiar at all. Cleo peered out from round the back wheel of the van, looking up and down the road. She was lost.

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Amber waved goodbye to Mum reluctantly and slung her rucksack over her shoulder. Lila came running up as she trailed into the playground.

“Are you all right?” Lila said anxiously. “Your eyes are all red. Amber, what’s the matter?”

“It’s Cleo,” Amber sniffed. “She never came home for her tea last night. Mum and Dad said they were sure she’d be back when we got up, but she wasn’t!” She swallowed hard. “I didn’t want to come to school. I wanted to stay at home and keep looking for her. Mum said she’s going to ring all the vets this morning. That’s in case … in case she’s been brought in because she’s had an accident.”

“Oh no,” Lila whispered. “But you were saying only yesterday that you were worried about her being run over.”

“I know!” Amber pressed her hands into her eyes. She didn’t want to start crying again, not at school. “That makes it worse,” she whispered. “I feel like I made it happen by worrying about it.”

Lila put an arm round her shoulders.“Of course you didn’t,” she said firmly. “All it means is that you were sensible to worry. And you don’t know that anything bad’s happened! She might just be shut in somebody’s garage.”

“I guess so,” Amber muttered.

Then Maisie came hurrying up, and Amber stared down at her shoes as Lila whispered what had happened. She didn’t want to hear her friends talking about it – it only made Cleo’s disappearance seem more real.

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“Did you go looking for her?” Maisie asked.

“Down the whole street. And Dad asked some of the neighbours when he got home last night. If Cleo isn’t back by this afternoon, we’re going to put posters up.”

Lila made a face.“I hate those posters. They’re so sad. But I bet they work,” she added hurriedly.

“There’s the bell.” Maisie squeezed Amber’s hand. “Are you going to be OK? Do you want us to say something to Mr Evans for you?”

Amber shook her head, horrified. Imagine her teacher making a fuss and the whole class knowing.“I’ll be fine. Please don’t tell anyone, Maisie. I just don’t want to talk about Cleo – it’s making me feel too miserable.”

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After school, Amber dashed out to find her mum, hoping that she’d have good news. But she could tell as soon as she saw Mum on the other side of the playground that she didn’t. She looked worried, even though she smiled at Amber and held out her arms for a hug.

“She hasn’t come home, has she?” Amber asked, her voice muffled in her mum’s jacket.

“Not yet, sweetie.”

Amber swallowed. It felt like her heart was swelling up and blocking her throat.“Let’s go home,” she told Mum, and her voice sounded odd, even to her. “We need to start on the Lost Cat posters. I’ll find a good photo of Cleo.”

“Yes, I suppose we should,” Mum agreed. “I really did think she’d have turned up by now. I wonder if she’s shut in somewhere.”

“Where?” Amber turned to look at Mum.

“Someone’s shed, maybe? You know how nosy Cleo is. If she found one open she’d definitely pop in for a look around. And then maybe the person came back and shut the door without seeing her.”

Amber nodded.“Oh, yes! I’ll put that on the poster, then. We’ll ask if people can look in their sheds. And Lila said she could be shut in a garage. I wonder if there’s anywhere else…”

As soon as she got home, Amber raced upstairs to find the laptop she shared with Sara. Normally they argued about whose turn it was to have it, but Amber knew that today Sara wouldn’t mind if she got it out of her bedroom. She carried it into her own room and started to work out what the poster should say.

“Amber?”

Amber gazed up at Sara in the doorway.“Look!” she sniffed, holding out the laptop to her big sister. There were tears dripping down her nose.

“Oh…” Sara sat down next to Amber on the bed, peering over at the photo on the screen. “I took that one on Mum’s mobile. Cleo thought the phone was something she could eat – that’s why she’s so close up. She looks really cute.”

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“I bet she’s really scared, wherever she is,” Amber sobbed. “She’s not going to understand what’s going on, is she? She won’t even know we’re looking for her.”

“I bet she will,” Sara said. “She knows we love her, Amber. I’ll help you put the posters up, and she’ll be home soon. It’ll be OK.”

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Once she’d darted out from under the van on to the pavement, Cleo squirmed under the nearest gate. She still had no idea where she was and why she couldn’t find her way home to Amber, but she was so thirsty. She had to find something to drink. She followed her nose down the pathway at the side of the house and came out into the back garden. She could smell water, she was sure. There was a delicate pattering sound and she hurried towards it. She was right – there was a huge bowl full of water, with a little fountain in the middle.

Cleo put her paws up on the edge and drank greedily. It tasted odd, not like the water from her bowl at home, but it was still good. She liked the fountain too, and she darted her head about, trying to catch the water drops in her mouth. They got on her ears and her whiskers, but she didn’t mind – it helped to get rid of the dusty feeling.

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Cleo padded across the garden, sniffing for something to eat– she felt much hungrier, now that she wasn’t so thirsty. There was a definite smell of at least one other cat around, but none appeared.

Eventually she came to a little teepee set up on the grass. She peered around the tent flap, sniffing hopefully. There on a rug was a plastic plate, with half a stale sandwich on it. Cleo darted in and gobbled down the sandwich, which was full of dry cheese. It was delicious! She was still hungry, so she washed herself thoroughly all over, making sure she got every last crumb out of her whiskers.

Then she yawned and curled up on the bit of the rug that was in the sun. The garden was quiet and felt safe, and the September sun was very warm. Before long Cleo was fast asleep.

She was woken mid-afternoon by a sudden noise– a loud wailing. Panicked, Cleo whisked round to the other side of the tent and hid behind it, peering out to see what was going on.

A boy came out of the back door of the house, carrying a plate. He wasn’t the one making the noise – that seemed to be coming from inside. The boy wandered to the end of the garden and sat down on a swing beside the tent. He swung idly back and forth, nibbling at the sandwich. He was staring vaguely round the garden when he spotted Cleo.

He stopped swinging at once, and Cleo froze.

The boy slipped off the swing, leaving the sandwich on the grass and crept towards the tent.

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“Here, puss, puss…” he called.

Cleo shrunk back behind the tent, as the wailing started up again.

The boy glanced towards the house.“Is that noise scary? It’s just my little brother throwing a wobbly.”

Cleo could tell from the boy’s voice that he was friendly. And he had another of those sandwiches. Cleo came a little way out and eyed him hopefully.

“I haven’t seen you before,” the boy murmured. “I wonder who’s got a new kitten? You haven’t got a collar on, have you?” He looked carefully at the kitten’s neck. “Nope, no collar. Hey, where are you going? Oh!” He laughed. The kitten was hurrying over the grass towards his abandoned sandwich. “Do you want it? Oh, wow, you do.”

Cleo was already tearing at the corner of the sandwich, gulping it down greedily.

“You’re starving!” The boy smiled slowly as he watched the sandwich disappear. “Maybe you’re a stray?”

He grinned as the kitten devoured the last bit of sandwich and sniffed the plate all over to see if she’d missed any.

“Who do you belong to, hey? What’s your name?” He reached out to tickle Cleo gently behind the ears. “I reckon you look like a … umm. Maybe a Smudge? With that dark splodge over your eye? But you look like a girl cat to me. Smudge doesn’t sound like a girl. What about Patch? Are you called Patch? That’s why my mum called our cat Pirate, you know. Because he’s got an eyepatch.”

“George! George!”

Cleo darted away behind the tent again, and the boy sighed.“There’s Mum. I’ll come back later with some more food for you. That’s if you’re still here…”

[Êàðòèíêà: _24.jpg]

Amber followed Sara back into the house, trying to feel hopeful. They had put up posters all along their street and the streets close by. Then they’d gone into the little convenience store at the end of their road and asked if they could put up one on their notice board. But it still didn’t feel like enough. Amber couldn’t just sit in the house, waiting for Cleo to come home. She needed to be doing something.

Perhaps she could go and ask some of their neighbours who had sheds and garages if she could check them. Then her eyes widened– she’d just thought of another place where Cleo could have got trapped. The family across the road was having a lot of work done on their house and had moved in with their grandparents for a few weeks. Jan, their mum, had told Amber’s mum that they’dhave to pack everything up in boxes. But that meant some of the rooms were closed up, and there were piles of stuff everywhere– all sorts of places where a kitten could get shut in.

Amber was so excited, and so sure she was right, that she didn’t even stop to ask Mum or Sara to go with her. She’d just have time to catch the builders before they went home, she reckoned. She slipped back out of the front door and crossed the road. Mum would tell her off, but if she came back with Cleo, surely Mum wouldn’t mind that much… And Amber was certain she would bring her back.

She hesitated outside number 22, looking for one of the builders to ask. Until now, every time they’d gone past there had been someone around, unloading stuff from vans or hoisting materials up on to the scaffolding. But now there was no one at all.

“Hello?” Amber called, stepping on to the driveway.

No one came. Amber clenched her fists. She just couldn’t wait any longer. What if Cleo was starving? She knew it was stupid – and she’d get into trouble if Mum and Dad found out she’d gone into Jan’s garden with all the building going on. But she had to!

She walked up to the house and tried to peer in through the front windows, pressing her nose against the glass. She was trying so hard to see through the dusty panes that she didn’t hear one of the builders coming round the side of the house.

“Just what exactly do you think you’re doing?”

Amber swung round to find a tall man staring down at her. He was covered in dust. The greyish colour made him look like a statue.“I’m – I’m looking for my kitten,” she squeaked.

“Yourkitten?”

“She’s gone missing. I thought she might have got shut in…” Amber’s voice trailed away – the man looked so cross.

[Êàðòèíêà: _25.jpg]

“You shouldn’t be here. Don’t you realize how dangerous it is, messing around on a building site?”

Amber hung her head, tears filling her eyes. Then she looked up again, straightening her shoulders. This was too important to let go.“But she’s been gone a whole day. What if she’s got trapped somewhere? Jan said some of the rooms were shut up to keep the dust out – what if she’s in one of them?”

“They’ve all been closed up since we started,” the man said, more gently. “And we’d have heard her mewing, wouldn’t we?”

Amber’s head drooped again. “Maybe… I really thought she had to be here. I’m so worried about her.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for her,” the man told Amber. “What colour is she?”

“She’s a tortoiseshell, mostly gingery with black patches. We live just there.” Amber pointed across the road.

“All right. Now, out of here, and don’t even think of coming back. What if something had fallen off the scaffolding?”

Amber nodded, her eyes widening. She hurried out of the garden and crossed the road, her cheeks burning. That had been awful. But at least the builder hadn’t insisted on coming back home with her and telling Mum.

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George slid back through the kitchen, glad that his mum was still occupied sorting out Toby, his little brother. Everyone said that Toby was going through a stage, or that it was the terrible twos, but it basically meant that he was either really, really happy or furious and never anything in between. Right now it meant that Mum wasn’t going to notice him sneaking his leftover packed lunch outside to the kitten.

George checked– yes, there was quite a bit of his lunch left. He didn’t think the kitten would be keen on grapes, but she would definitely be up for cocktail sausages, he decided. Pirate was always trying to nick them when Mum was making his packed lunch.

He hurried back down the garden, hoping that the kitten would still be there.Perhaps I should really be hoping that she’s gone home, George thought to himself, feeling a bit guilty. The little kitten was probably still not used to being out much.

Then he saw her peeping at him from behind the tent again and forgot to worry about her owner.

As soon as Cleo saw the boy, she darted out from her hiding place at once and came up quite close. Maybe he had more food. She still felt so hungry, even after both those sandwiches. She was used to two good meals and the odd snack of cat treats from Amber. She stopped a short distance away and sniffed at the lunchbox as George put it down on the grass.

George held out a sausage on the palm of his hand and looked hopefully at the kitten. Then he laughed as the little cat dived at him and started nibbling the sausage straight out of his hand. Her mouth was so soft, and her damp nose nuzzled at George’s fingers.

“You’re really nice,” he whispered, using his not-sausagey hand to stroke the kitten’s soft back.

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The kitten finished off the sausage and looked hopefully into the lunchbox for more. She snagged the last sausage out of the little pot, and it disappeared in seconds.

“Don’t make yourself sick,” George told her. “Sorry, that’s the last one. There’s still a bit of cheese, though.” He took it out and pulled off the cling film. “There you go.” He watched, smiling, as the kitten ate the cheese, too, and then sat down quite heavily and began to washher ears and face. Her stomach looked a lot rounder than it had ten minutes ago.

“I wish I knew where you’d come from, Patch,” George murmured. “I probably shouldn’t have given you all that food, if you’re just going to go home for your tea. But you looked starving, the way you wolfed down that sandwich.”

The kitten licked her bright pink tongue over her nose and then looked at the boy with gleaming golden eyes. She got up and padded a little closer.

George gazed down in surprise– he’d thought maybe the kitten would hurry away once the food had all gone. But instead she clambered on to George’s lap and slumped down, clearly exhausted by so much eating. She yawned, and then she seemed to melt into the space on George’s lap, completely saggy, like a beanbag toy. She was asleep.

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Cleo padded up to the shed and wriggled through a small gap in the boards. She gazed around, hoping to find something else to eat. The boy, George, had left her some food there in the morning– toast crusts and the end of a boiled egg. It wasn’t like anything Cleo had eaten before, but she’d quite enjoyed it. She was feeling hungry again now, though.

George had shown her this place the evening before. He’d opened the door and gone in to shake the dust and spiders’ webs off some cushions from the garden chairs. He had arranged them into a comfy pile for a bed and filled an old plant saucer from the outside tap with water. He’d even brought Cleo a fish finger. It was a bit fluffy from being inhis pocket, but she hadn’t cared. Then he’d shown Cleo that there was a hole in the shed wall, just big enough for a kitten to squeeze in and out of.

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Cleo had spent the night curled up on the cushions, but she kept startling awake. It wasn’t like being in a house. There were strange noises, and they seemed so close with just the thin wooden walls of the shed to protect her. Squeaks and chirrups and rustlings in the trees and the flowerbeds, and once, horribly close, a great deep sniff. Cleo had frozen, watching the little hole in the shed wall. After the sniff there had been a pause, a terrifying silence while she’d wondered if the creature was going to claw its way in. But it had gone away, obviously deciding that Cleo wasn’t worth the effort. It had left behind a sharp, unmistakeable whiff of something wild, and hungry.

She had spent the day exploring the garden– every so often coming up against that smell again. She could still catch a trace of it now…

Cleo hated the thought of spending another night in the shed, with that creature so close by. As kind as George was, she needed to find her home, where she slept indoors on Amber’s bed or occasionally in her basket. She wanted Amber to snuggle up against. She clambered back out of the shed then crept uncertainly past the house, down the side passage and out into George’s front garden. There she looked out on to the street, wondering how to get home. It was mid-afternoon and quite quiet, even though there were children’s voices in the distance, returning home from school. Cleo peered down the road hopefully, wondering if one of them was Amber, coming to find her. But the voices didn’t sound right.

Cleo hopped up on to the wall, so she could look around from a high point. The street stretched out in front of her– grey and empty, and utterly unfamiliar. Which way should she go?

She sniffed the air, trying to catch a scent of home, but there was nothing. At last she jumped down from the wall and set off down the street, making for a garden with straggly bushes spilling out on to the pavement. She would go in short hops, from hiding place to hiding place, she decided. In case that creature was still around.

A strange rattling sound suddenly came around the corner of the road, and Cleo scuttled towards the bushes and ducked underneath. There was a loud clattering and then footsteps. A face appeared under the branches, and Cleo’s heart slowed a little. It was the boy who had looked after her.

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“What are you doing?” George muttered. “You shouldn’t be out on the pavement – I bet you don’t understand about cars.” He thought of Amber at school, worrying about her kitten getting run over. He ought to ask her if the kitten had been out in her front garden again. She’d been really quiet at school today, not at all chatty like she usually was.

He scooped Cleo up and snuggled her with one arm, glancing back over his shoulder. His mum hadn’t got round the corner yet – Toby was throwing a strop about being in the pushchair.

“Don’t wriggle too much,” George warned. “It’s tricky scooting with only one hand.”

He whooshed the last few metres towards his house and shoved his scooter into the little shelter down the side passage. The man next door, Luke, had helped Dad build it for all their bikes and things. The kitten was wriggling more and more.“I know,” he whispered. “I’m just waiting for Mum to open the door. Here, look!” He slipped his rucksack off his shoulders and crouched down, bringing out his lunchbox.

The kitten stopped struggling at once and pricked her ears forward.

“I saved you some of my lunch,” George told her. “You like cheese, don’t you?” He held out a cheese cube to the kitten, who swallowed it almost whole and then tried to burrow into the lunchbox to get more. George giggled. “You really do like cheese…” He peered round the corner of the side passage. “Just putting my scooter away, Mum!”

“All right. Close the front door when you come in,” his mum called back. “Come on, Toby. We’re home now.”

“You see,” George whispered. “Mum’s still busy with my brother. She isn’t going to notice if I sneak you up to my room, is she? You’ll be safe up there, Patch. No more going near the road.”

He picked up the lunchbox again, then hurried in through the front door and slipped upstairs.

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“Can I make some leaflets about Cleo, Mum?” Amber asked, as she undid her school shoes. “Maisie suggested it. We could put them through people’s doors, in case they didn’t see the posters.”

“I suppose it could encourage the neighbours to look in their sheds and garages,” Mum agreed. “But you’re not to go out delivering them without me or Sara,” she added with a stern look.

Mum had been really cross the day before, when Amber had come back in after going to the house across the road. Luckily, Amber hadn’t had to explain exactly where she had been – she’d just said that she’d gone out looking for Cleo.

Amber opened up the laptop and started to write the leaflet. She dropped in the photo of Cleo and added a message asking people to check their sheds and garages, then put her mum’s phone number at the bottom. Then she printed them out and went into the kitchen to show Mum.

“Do you want to go and deliver them now?” Mum asked. “I’ve got some time before I make dinner.”

“Please.” Amber hugged her. “Look, I’ve made enough for our road and Bramble Crescent. Cleo could have easily gone round into their gardens.”

Mum nodded and got out her phone.“I’ll just text Sara to tell her where we are.”

They set off down their road, taking turns to post the leaflets. It was surprisingly hard to push the flimsy sheets of paper through the letterboxes, and Amber hoped they wouldn’t just get squashed inside and missed.

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They were halfway back down the other side of the road when Amber noticed that the builder who’d told her off was coming out of Jan’s house. She stopped, staring at him in panic. What if he told Mum about yesterday? Mum would be so cross. She posted the next few leaflets extra-slowly, hoping that he’d go back inside before they reached him. But he didn’t.

As they approached the house, Amber lurked behind Mum. Maybe the builder would think that this was another family looking for their lost cat. But she was pretty sure he knew exactly who she was.

“Hello!” Mum smiled at him. “We’re from across the road. Our kitten’s gone missing. Can I give you one of these, just in case you spot her? It’s got my number on. She’s been gone a couple of days now. Amber here’s really missing her.”

Amber’s eyes widened in panic. Now he was bound to say something…

“Of course,” the builder said. “Do you want to hand me a couple more? I can give them to the other guys. I’m Luke, by the way.” He smiled at Amber, and she wasn’t sure, but she thought he gave her just a hint of a wink, as if to say he’d keep her secret.

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“This is my bedroom,” George explained to the kitten. Then he laughed to himself. “I know you don’t really understand a word I say,” he murmured. “You’re more bothered about the cheese than anything else, aren’t you? Here…” He grabbed a piece of paper from his desk and used it like a plate for his leftover sandwich.

“I can’t keep on giving you sandwiches,” he said. “It can’t be good for you to be living on my leftovers. But Mum would have seen me if I got you some of Pirate’s cat food.”

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He sat there watching the kitten nibble her way through the sandwich. He hadn’t thought about keeping the kitten before. But could he? Of course the kitten might have a proper home where someone wanted her, even if she didn’t have a collar. Some cats just wouldn’t wear them. Pirate was an expert at taking them off – or he had been. They used to have to go on collar hunts in the garden, but Pirate didn’t go out much any more. He was fourteen, and his legs hurt. He spent most of his days asleep on someone’s bed. George really loved him, but Pirate had always seemed more like Mum’s cat. He didn’t play with George that much. Not like this bouncy little kitten… She could be his very own.

“You’ve been in my garden a whole day now,” George pointed out. “At least, I think you have. And you haven’t tried to go home. Do you like it better here, Patch, hmm?” But that didn’t mean the kitten hadn’t got an owner… Maybe she was just good at losing collars, too. George sighed. She didn’t really look like she had been living as a stray for a long time. She wasn’t skinny or grubby-looking. “I expect someone’s looking for you,” he admitted. “Well, if you were mine, I’d be making a lot more effort to find you. I reckon you’d be better off with me.”

The kitten gazed around George’s bedroom with interest and padded over to investigate his bookcase. She gazed up at it, wriggled her bottom a bit and made a flying leap up to the top. Then she stood there looking proud of herself.

Cleo sniffed at George’s Lego spaceship, and the fur rose a little along her spine. She liked this house, and she liked the boy. But there was something wrong. Cleo hadn’t shared a home with another cat since she left the shelter where she’d lived with her mother and the rest of her litter, but she was almost surethere was another cat here. That this housebelonged to another cat. And perhaps the boy belonged to the other cat, too.

She nosed at the spaceship again, leaping back a little as it slid away on its wheels, and the boy leaped to catch it. Then Cleo jumped down again and wandered over to George’s bed. The other-cat smell was even stronger here. She backed away from the bed, her tail twitching nervously.