by Holly Webb
For Poppy and Star, my not-so-secret kittens…
www.hollywebbanimalstories.com
CONTENTS
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
About the Author
Other titles by Holly Webb
Copyright
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.
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 though there 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.
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.
“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, already nearly 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.
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.
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!”
“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.
“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.
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 friends back 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.
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 a box?” 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!”
“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…”
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 fel
t 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.”
