Cosmo and the Great Witch Escape

by Gwyneth Rees

  On their way home the cats passed Scarlett’s school. ‘This is the place where we’re going to hold the competition,’ Meowface told Cleo. ‘Come and have a closer look.’ As he led Cleo in through the school gates, the cats had absolutely no idea that they were being spied on by the white mouse, who followed them right across the school playground and round to the back of the building.

  ‘That’s where we can get inside,’ Meowface said to Cleo, pointing out the broken toilet window (which was just the right size to admit a cat). ‘The school hall will be the perfect venue for the catwalk competition. Do you want to come inside now and see what you think?’

  ‘Let’s come back later,’ Cleo said, yawning. ‘I think an afternoon nap is in order first. That really was an extremely heavy lunch.’

  So Meowface agreed that they could return to inspect the hall together in a couple of hours’ time, and the mouse, having overheard this, let out a satisfied squeak and scurried away.

  Later that afternoon, when they had all enjoyed a restful post-lunch nap, Meowface announced that he was taking Cleo back to the school. He asked Cosmo if he would like to go with them, and Cosmo immediately went to find Mia to see if she wanted to come too.

  Inside the school assembly hall, which doubled as a gym when the children had PE, Cleo walked around slowly, nodding approvingly at the size of it, and at the gym mats, which could be arranged across the floor to provide soft seating for all the spectators. He especially liked the fact that a long wooden bench had been left out in the middle of the hall instead of being stacked away properly at the end of term.

  ‘This can be our catwalk,’ he declared, jumping on top of it and walking along it himself.

  Then he excused himself and disappeared off to the toilets to have a look at himself in the mirror.

  Meowface quickly explained to Mia and Cosmo that Cleo liked to look at himself in front of a mirror at least once every day, and that he must never be disturbed during those times.

  ‘I’ll tell you a secret if you promise to keep it to yourselves,’ Meowface added, lowering his voice to a level that was no louder than a whisper (which was quite a difficult thing for a cat who was a quarter Siamese to do). ‘He’s got a bit of a thing about his nose not being as short as a Persian cat’s ought to be, and I reckon that’s why he’s always looking in the mirror – because deep down he’s really insecure about his appearance.’

  ‘Mother noticed his nose was quite long,’ Cosmo said, ‘but she thinks it makes him more attractive. Would it help if I told him that, do you think?’

  ‘Oh no,’ Meowface said quickly. ‘You must never mention his nose, Cosmo. He’ll throw a hissy fit if you do! You see, he tells everyone he’s a pure-bred, silver-tabby Persian with a pedigree as long as your tail, but what nobody else knows is that one of his grandfathers was actually an alley cat. That’s why Cleo’s nose is longer than other Persians’. And he’s so jealous of all pure-bred Persian cats with short noses that he won’t let any so much as enter his catwalk competitions, let alone win them!’ Meowface stopped talking abruptly as Cleo reappeared, carrying something quite bulky between his jaws.

  As he came closer, they saw that it was a cat-sized bouquet of flowers. He dropped it on the floor and miaowed, ‘Someone must have thrown this in through the window for me. Look – there’s a message attached.’

  The ‘message’ was a wriggling white mouse that had been tied to the bouquet by its tail, and Cosmo, Mia and Meowface all stared at it.

  The mouse looked quite similar to the one they had met at lunchtime. ‘I bring greetings from my mistress,’ it said, doing its best to squeak slowly so the cats could understand it, but not succeeding very well. (Most mice found it difficult not to squeak very rapidly whenever they were in conversation with a cat.) ‘My mistress is a huge admirer of the great Cleo Cattrap and she wishes to invite him to partake of a most delicious tea,’ it told them.

  Cleo looked at the mouse and licked his lips, at which point it quickly squealed, ‘I’m not the tea. The tea’s at her house!’

  ‘Perhaps she means the mouse to be the appetizer,’ Meowface suggested.

  ‘Oh no!’ The mouse’s squeak was even more high-pitched now. ‘My job is to take you to where she lives! She has sent me here on her broomstick to fetch you.’

  ‘Who is your mistress?’ Cosmo asked curiously.

  ‘I’m not allowed to tell you her name. She says it would spoil the surprise.’

  ‘I wouldn’t go with him if I were you,’ Meowface told Cleo. ‘You’ve never ridden on a broomstick before. What if you fall off?’

  ‘There’s a basket attached – you can sit in that,’ the mouse quickly responded.

  ‘I still don’t think you should go,’ Meowface said. ‘Not if you don’t know where he’s taking you.’

  ‘You should never go anywhere with a stranger,’ Cosmo agreed.

  But Cleo ignored both of them. ‘This mistress of yours is a great admirer of mine, you say?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ the mouse squeaked eagerly. ‘She greatly admires you for your cleverness and your refined taste in all things, but most of all for your handsome appearance. She wants you to come and have tea with her, so she can tell you all these things herself.’

  Cleo found himself purring rather loudly – he liked nothing better than a good dose of flattery. ‘Well . . .’ he miaowed. ‘Perhaps, I will come. Meowface, I want you to find some other helpers and have this hall ready for the competition by the time I get back.’ He glanced at Cosmo and Mia. ‘You two kittens can spread the word that I’ll be starting my auditions here tomorrow morning at sunrise.’ With an extra-grand swoosh of his fluffy grey tail, he added, ‘And make sure you tell everyone that what Cleo Cattrap is looking for in this competition is the F factor. Nothing less will do!’

  After he had gone, Cosmo said, ‘Wow! The F factor! If only I had that!’

  ‘According to Mother, all cats do,’ Mia mewed.

  ‘I mean the sort of F factor that Cleo is talking about,’ Cosmo said. ‘The sort that would make you really stand out from the crowd!’

  ‘You do stand out from the crowd, Cosmo,’ Mia told him earnestly.

  Cosmo gave her head an affectionate lick and said, ‘I wish we could enter this competition.’

  ‘You can enter it – as long as you get your parents’ permission first,’ Meowface told them. ‘There’s a special category for kittens.’

  ‘Really?’ Cosmo’s tail began to go bushy with excitement as he mewed, ‘Come on, Mia! Let’s go and ask them right now!’

  Felina was studying a new book when the two kittens arrived at Mia’s house. It was a large book that Amy had got out of the library and it was all about a country called China, which Felina told them was even further away than India.

  ‘Look, Mia!’ Felina miaowed excitedly as she showed her daughter some Chinese writing, which seemed to be made up of lots of complicated combinations of strokes rather than the more rounded letters Mia was used to seeing when her mother forced her to read human English. ‘This would be very easy for a cat to write.’ And Felina demonstrated by making several complex scratches on the back of Amy’s leather sofa, which she told them meant Hello in Chinese.

  ‘Mother, we’ve just found out that kittens are allowed to enter the catwalk competition,’ Mia began timidly, ‘so I was wondering if—’

  But Felina interrupted before she could finish. ‘Mia, I forbid you to have anything to do with that ridiculous beauty contest. This afternoon we are both going to use our brains!’ She turned to Cosmo, who was slowly shrinking backwards towards the door. ‘Cosmo, would you like to learn how to write in Chinese too?’

  ‘Err . . . No thanks,’ Cosmo mewed politely. ‘See you later, Mia.’ He gave his friend a sympathetic look as he hurried away.

  Cosmo didn’t think he would have the same difficulty as Mia in getting his parents to let him enter the catwalk competition. He had frequently overheard Mephisto and India congratulating themselves on
having produced the most beautiful kitten in the neighbourhood, so he couldn’t imagine them minding if he wanted to enter a competition to show himself off.

  But he had reckoned without his father’s dislike of Cleo Cattrap.

  ‘He’s left his disgusting grey hairs all over my favourite seat,’ Mephisto was complaining to India when Cosmo bounded in through the cat flap. ‘I told you I didn’t want him taking his nap there after lunch. And I’m sure he’s got fleas.’

  ‘Well, so have you. I saw one on you just the other day.’

  ‘Nonsense! I’d know if I had a flea. I’d be itchy.’ Just at that moment Mephisto felt very itchy just behind his left ear, and it took all his willpower not to lift up his back leg to scratch it.

  So it was very bad timing on Cosmo’s part when he shouted out excitedly, ‘Mother! Father! Guess what? Meowface says that kittens are allowed to enter the catwalk competition! We just have to get our parents’ permission first.’

  Mephisto sniffed as if he was highly irritated. ‘Who does Cleo Cattrap think he is to set himself up as a judge over all us other cats? Cosmo, I will definitely not allow you to enter!’

  ‘But that’s not fair—’ Cosmo began to yowl, at which point his mother quickly intervened.

  ‘Don’t raise your voice like that to your father,’ she told him. ‘Now go outside and play. Your father and I need to talk.’

  So Cosmo grumpily headed back outside, wondering what to do next. He didn’t feel much like going to spread the word about the catwalk competition all on his own. Then he remembered his other friends, Hagnus and Matty. They would probably come with him if he asked. ‘I bet they’ll be allowed to enter the competition,’ he grumbled to himself as he set off towards Tani’s house with his tail swishing crossly behind him.

  6

  Cosmo and his two Siamese friends toured the neighbourhood for the remainder of the afternoon, causing quite a stir as they spread the news that Cleo Cattrap’s auditions were to start the next day at sunrise. It was early evening by the time they returned to the school hall where Tani, along with several other adult cats, had gone to help Meowface. All the mats had been dragged into position, and an upturned cardboard box had been placed in the centre of the room, from where Cleo could sit and judge all the contestants.

  Cleo had not long arrived back himself and had gone straight to the toilets to look at himself in the mirror again.

  ‘He hasn’t told us yet who his mysterious admirer is,’ Meowface said to Cosmo. ‘He seems very excited since he came back from seeing her though. He says he’s got something to tell us all in a minute about the entry fee.’

  ‘What entry fee?’ Cosmo asked.

  ‘Every cat who enters one of his competitions has to pay an entry fee of some sort. Usually it’s something edible.’ He stopped talking as Cleo himself came into the room.

  ‘Meowface, I have decided that the entry fee for this particular competition will be one hairball per cat,’ Cleo said. ‘You must tell everyone this when they turn up tomorrow morning. Tell them that no cat will be permitted to audition unless they have given me a hairball and that I will postpone the start of the competition to allow time for this.’

  ‘What’s a hairball?’ Cosmo asked, wondering if it was some sort of cat toy that he hadn’t yet heard of.

  ‘It’s a ball of hair that you bring up of course,’ Hagnus said.

  ‘Huh?’ Cosmo still didn’t understand.

  ‘It’s a ball of fur that sits in your stomach until you sick it up,’ Matty explained. ‘It’s quite normal – all cats have them. The more you groom yourself by licking your fur clean, the more fur you swallow and the more hairballs you get. If you want to bring one up you should go and chew some grass. Grass is especially good for making you regurgitate whatever’s in your stomach.’

  Now Cosmo remembered the soggy lumps that India sometimes brought up on the carpet. She always made a noise a bit like a coffee percolator whenever she was about to deposit one. And come to think of it, they often contained bits of grass.

  ‘Mother never told me those things were called hairballs,’ he said. ‘And I’ve never had one myself.’

  ‘That’s probably because your mother still grooms you all the time,’ Matty explained. ‘You only get them if you lick your fur a lot. Our mother’s started letting Hagnus and me wash ourselves, so now we’ve been getting them too.’

  Cleo suddenly let out a loud miaow and it was clear that he wished to make an additional announcement. ‘I almost forgot. These hairballs must be completely free of fleas.’

  ‘But that’s ridiculous,’ Meowface protested. ‘It’s a well-known fact that fleas and cat fur sometimes get swallowed together.’ Meowface himself had a lot of fleas and he knew that in the course of washing himself, he couldn’t help but occasionally swallow one or two.

  ‘Anyway, how can you tell if there’s a flea inside a hairball or not?’ Tani wanted to know.

  ‘I have just been lent a special magic device that can detect them,’ Cleo said. ‘It’s called a flea detector. I shall test each hairball personally and the detector will beep if it picks up the presence of a flea.’

  ‘What are you going to do with all these hairballs?’ Tani wanted to know.

  Cleo looked sly. ‘That is none of your business,’ he told her. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and rest before tomorrow’s auditions.’

  Cosmo went straight to Mia’s house to tell his friend the news about the entry fee, and it turned out that Mia knew exactly what a hairball was. ‘Mother used to get them all the time until Amy started feeding us anti-hairball cat food to stop her bringing them up on the carpet. Amy makes a terrible fuss about anything we bring up on the carpet.’

  ‘It doesn’t look as if we’ve got any chance of being in this competition now,’ Cosmo said gloomily. ‘Even if your mother and my father change their minds about letting us enter, we don’t have any hairballs for the entry fee.’

  ‘There’s no way Mother will change her mind in any case,’ Mia said, sighing.

  ‘I don’t think my father will either,’ Cosmo said, ‘but let’s start washing ourselves as much as we can from now on, just in case. And we must make sure we swallow as much hair as possible with each lick.’

  The subject of cat hairballs was also being discussed that evening, in a phone conversation between Sybil (who was allowed to make one phone call from prison every week) and her friend Selina Slaughter.

  ‘That’s splendid news!’ Sybil was exclaiming triumphantly as Selina told her about the catwalk competition. ‘Cats who are entering a beauty contest will groom themselves even more than usual – which means they’ll produce nice fat hairballs. And as soon as we have those hairballs, we’ll have everything we need for the spell.’

  ‘I’ve lent my wand with a flea-detector spell in it to that puffed up fluff-ball of a cat who runs the competition,’ Selina told her.

  ‘Are you sure he knows how to use it properly?’ Sybil asked. ‘He sounds like a very stupid cat to me.’

  ‘He’s more vain than stupid,’ Selina replied. ‘That’s why it was so easy to fool him. But when I showed him how to use the flea detector – which is what I told him it was – he didn’t seem to have a problem with it.’

  ‘Good, because according to Murdina Broom, a single flea will render the hairball it’s in completely useless,’ Sybil told her. ‘And we know what that will mean for the witch concerned.’

  Selina made a croaking sound, which was meant as a joke, but which Sybil didn’t find at all funny.

  ‘Believe me, Selina, this is no laughing matter!’

  ‘Of course not, Sybil,’ Selina put in hastily. ‘But don’t worry. Nothing can go wrong. And just think . . . After this we’ll be able to set up an Evil Witches’ Society that will be even more powerful than the Good Witches’ one. All the witches you’ve helped escape will be in your debt. Of course, if you didn’t have me helping you on the outside—’

  ‘Don’t worry, Sel
ina,’ Sybil reassured her. ‘You will be handsomely rewarded too. Once I escape, you and I are going to be the richest and most powerful witches in the country! But there’s just one more thing I need you to do, Selina, my dear. I’ll need my broomstick ready for me the second I escape. I left it in the garage of my old house and I was hoping that—’

  ‘I’ll do a spell to summon it,’ Selina said quickly. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it’s waiting for you. But, Sybil, how are we going to make sure that you and the others don’t all get recaptured and sent back to prison again straight away?’

  ‘Because we’ll make sure that the good witches are too busy to come looking for us. This toenail robbery hasn’t just provided us with the spell ingredient we needed, it’s given us lots and lots of poor little witch-babies who have no magic toenails to protect them against evil spells. So after we escape we’ll make sure we sprinkle lots of nasty spells into the air – spells that are especially targeted at babies! The good witches will be too busy protecting them to start chasing after us. And by the time the babies are out of danger, we’ll be long gone.’

  ‘Perfect!’ Selina said, giggling. ‘And Murdina Broom is a whizz when it comes to knocking up evil spells against babies. Why, one time I remember—’

  ‘I know how good she is,’ Sybil interrupted, lowering her voice to a whisper. ‘And if our escape plan is successful, she’s promised to do me a special little favour in return for all my hard work. I’ve asked her to make me a spell that targets baby cats.’