The Magical Adventures of Tara and the Talking Kitten

by Cooper, Diana

  On the way home from school Tara told her Mum all about Tracy and Rebecca and asked if they could come and play one day. She agreed to phone their mothers to see if they could come round after school on Tuesday. “But you’ve got to be nice to them,” she warned and Tara felt a cross feeling in her chest. Then she remembered Ash-ting and relaxed. She was sure her kitten would help her. She chattered on about Rosy, how she had bad eyes, how her parents had split up and she couldn’t see her Dad or her dog, and she had to live in a flat and go to make tea for her grandfather every day after school. “Poor little girl!” exclaimed her mother but nothing more was said. It made Tara feel sad when she talked about Rosy.

  But Rosy was forgotten when they arrived home and Ash-ting ran to meet her at the door with his tail up in the air.

  “Hello Tara. You did really well at school today.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered back to him.

  Jack and Mel were out on play dates so Tara was by herself. For once she didn’t mind, because now she had Ash-ting she was never really on her own. They sat on the lawn together with her juice and a biscuit and Tara played happily with her singing doll. She told Ash-ting about Rosy and her sad life.

  “You can help her. You have already started to help by including her in your games. You must do the same again tomorrow.”

  “But Tracy and Rebecca are my friends now. They might not want her to play again tomorrow,” Tara looked stricken.

  “Tara when you are kind to people things have a way of working out.” Ash-ting put his paw on her arm, and Tara somehow trusted what he said.

  Daddy needs help

  Later that evening something much more serious happened and Tara forgot all about Rosy and her problems.

  Her mother was impatient. She was waiting for Dad to come home from work, so she could go out and work her shift at the supermarket. “There’s never enough money and you need new shoes again,” she said crossly to Tara — as if it was her fault.

  At that moment Dad came in and her Mum rushed out without even looking at him. Her father looked terrible. His face was full of worry. He walked straight into the sitting room without saying ‘Hello’ and shut the door.

  Tara knew something was the matter, but what could she do? She felt an icy scared feeling. Her tummy was tight and she wanted to scream. She opened her mouth to howl and Ash-ting put his paw up to her lips.

  “No! No! Hush Tara. Calm down.”

  “But Daddy didn’t even speak to me or Mummy,” she wailed. “He doesn’t love me any more. They’ll split up like Rosy’s parents and they both won’t want me, they are always cross with me.”

  “Both your parents love you very much, but your Daddy has a big problem right now and you can help him.”

  “Me! Help Daddy. How? I’m just a little girl,” she sobbed.

  “Tara, do you love your Daddy?”

  “Yes of course,” she replied startled.

  “Then do what I say. OK?”

  She nodded.

  “Go quietly into the sitting room and ask him what’s bothering him?”

  “I can’t. He’ll say nothing’s wrong or that I’m just a little girl and can’t understand,” she protested.

  “You will be fine and I will be with you. Now go along”

  “Alright,” replied Tara, “but only if you really come in with me.”

  She walked over to the door and turned the handle bravely. Dad looked up and gave her a grave half smile. She sat by him on the sofa.

  “What’s wrong, Dad?” she asked in a gentle voice. Ash-ting rubbed against his legs and he gave him a half-hearted stroke.

  “You wouldn’t understand. You’re just a little girl.”

  Tara looked at Ash-ting with an ‘I told you so!’ look on her face.

  “Say you love him and you know something’s the matter.” Ash-ting hopped up onto her father’s lap and Tara did as she was asked, watching her Dad with big concerned eyes.

  “I made a mistake at work and I am worried I’ll lose my job when my boss finds out,” he sighed, looking sadder than she had ever seen him.

  Tara nodded, though she could feel her hands cold with fear. Mum always said she didn’t know what they’d do if he lost his job.

  “Tell him to phone his boss now and talk to him,” said Ash-ting.

  Tara took a deep breath and once again did as Ash-ting told her, adding: “You always say honesty is best Dad.”

  Tara’s Dad looked at her in surprise.

  “You’re right. Of course you are. I’ll do it right now. Go out and play in the garden. I’ll be out in ten minutes.”

  Tara sat on the swing, hugging Ash-ting. She felt like they sat there for ever. Fifteen minutes later Daddy came out smiling.

  “You were quite right little one. My boss said everyone makes mistakes and we could sort it out. He said it was a good thing I told him so promptly.”

  “Hooray,” said Tara, high-fiving her Dad.

  “Come one, you deserve an ice cream,” he said, hugging her as he lifted her from the swing.

  Tara and her Daddy sat happily in the garden enjoying their ice creams. Ash-ting suggested Tara should ask her Daddy what he used to like doing when he was a child.

  He looked dreamy for a while, then said: “I loved to draw, especially animals. I really wanted to be an artist but my parents said it wasn’t a proper job. That’s why I work in an office doing accounts. I do miss drawing though.”

  Ash-ting sat up and licked his fur.

  “Oh Daddy, would you draw Ash-ting for me?”

  “It’s a long time since I’ve done any drawing, but I’ll have a go.”

  Together they fetched some paper and pencils and Tara’s Dad did a wonderful sketch of Ash-ting.

  “It’s great, thank you Dad. I’ll take it to school tomorrow to show everyone — look Ash-ting, it’s you.”

  She held her new picture up in front of her kitten and he seemed to purr appreciatively.

  Tuesday

  Everyone at school thought the picture of Ash-ting was beautiful. “I wish my Dad could draw like that,” Tracy said and Tara glowed with pleasure. Mrs. Smith, their teacher, put it up on the wall, where everyone could see it. Tara was beginning to enjoy school more and more.

  After school Tracy and Rebecca came to play.

  “Tara, remember you’ve got to let them play with your toys, and with me” Ash-ting buzzed her as the girls walked home together. “You have to follow through on promises.”

  ‘I will,’ she agreed. And she did.

  The girls had a lovely time and Tracy and Rebecca said they had really enjoyed playing with her. It was the next best day to her birthday.

  Wednesday

  “It seems almost too good to be true,” murmured Mummy to Daddy next morning. “Tara’s like a different child. That kitten’s had a good influence.”

  Sadly it was too good to be true. After breakfast Jack grabbed Tara’s doll and ran off with it, taunting her. Tara was enraged. She rushed at Jack screaming and smacked him really hard as they fought over her doll. Tara yelled and rained blows on her little brother. When her Mum tried to stop her, she attacked her too. Her fury was out of control. She could hear Ash-ting in her forehead telling her to stop but she just couldn’t.

  When her Mum eventually managed to drag Tara off Jack, she refused to apologize.

  “It was his fault,” she shouted, red in the face.

  “Yes,” said Mummy patiently “and Jack has said sorry for taking your doll, but you must say sorry for hitting him.”

  Tara would not apologize. Eventually Mummy locked the screaming Tara in her room. Then she comforted Jack, who was the one who had pinched her doll. The doll lay with a torn dress on the floor.

  “It’s so unfair,” shouted the little girl as she lay on her bed. “I hate Jack and I hate Mummy.” The whole household was upset.

  “It’s just like it used to be,” Mum sighed “and just when I thought things were getting better.”

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p; “They are,” said Dad, thinking of the child who had talked to him in such a grown up way the other day. “I think it’s just a blip.”

  “I hope you’re right,” replied Mum. “And why are you looking so cheerful this morning?”

  “I did a drawing the other day for Tara,” said Dad, “and it has got me thinking, I really enjoyed it and I might start doing some more art work.”

  “Well don’t get carried away. Remember we have three children to support.” Dad could feel a little grey cloud of sadness form over him again.

  Ash-ting watched it all.

  At the school gate that morning Mummy gave Tara an extra hug and a kiss and said, “I love you. I just don’t like the way you behave.”

  But Tara knew it wasn’t true. No one really loved her — except Ash-ting. She was cross and miserable all morning and when she wanted to play with Tracy and Rebecca at break time they didn’t want to play with her. Rosy wasn’t at school that day, she had a hospital appointment, so Tara stood in the playground all alone thinking how unfair life was. She felt the buzz in her forehead and knew Ash-ting wanted to talk, but she felt so out-of-sorts she even ignored him.

  The Aura

  After lunch she felt a bit better and next time Ash-ting buzzed she listened in as he said, “Cheer up. Tracy and Rebecca still want to play with you — just not when you are grumpy.”

  Tara felt a spark of hope in her chest and smiled, because she trusted Ash-ting.

  “That’s better, now your aura is pink again your friends will want to play with you.”

  “What’s an aura?” asked Tara, feeling even happier now — even though she did not know what Ash-ting meant.

  “You aura is the light around you. People can sense it even if they can’t see it. It was black when you were cross so no one wanted to be near you. Now it is pink, they will. Go and play.”

  Tara ran over to Tracy and Rebecca and joined in their game as if nothing had ever been wrong.

  “If you do something good for someone it always comes back to you, maybe from someone else,” Ash-ting told Tara.

  “Really!” exclaimed Tara, fascinated and surprised.

  “Absolutely,” the kitten nodded his head.

  “So the more nice things I do the more nice things will happen to me?” Tara checked.

  “Yes. But you’ve got to be genuinely nice — not pretend nice.”

  “OK. I’m going to do a nice thing every day,” the little girl decided happily and she started thinking of a list of kind or good actions.

  Ash-ting was pleased to see how cheerful she looked. “I know where you could start. How about something that would make your Daddy happy?”

  Tara skipped off to find her Daddy.

  “Daddy, are you going to be helping with the school fete next week?”

  “Of course,” he replied. “I usually do the hoop-la stall.”

  “But Daddy everybody would love it if you did drawings,” suggested Tara, her eyes shining. “You could draw pets from photos and even some of the children. I bet everyone would want one and it would raise lots of money for the school. You said you really enjoy drawing.”

  Dad hesitated for a moment — yes he did love drawing, but would his drawings really be good enough for the school fete? Tara looked so eager and happy; he didn’t want to let her down.

  “What a great idea Tara, fancy you thinking of that. Yes, I will do it if the school wants me to. I will talk to them tomorrow.”

  “Thank you Daddy.” She gave him a big hug.

  Rosy’s Mum

  Tara’s mother was working in the supermarket that evening. It was very quiet. A tall thin woman came to her check out. She unloaded her trolley and asked: “Are you Tara’s mother?”

  “Yes,” agreed Tara’s Mum cautiously, wondering what her daughter had said or done wrong now. But the lady smiled.

  “I’m Rosy Farthing’s mother. Your daughter has really helped Rosy to settle in at her new school. Tara’s been very kind. Rosy is very shy because of her bad eye and Tara has helped her to make friends.”

  “Oh thank you. That’s nice to hear,” Tara’s mother was pink with pleasure. “How did the hospital appointment go? Tara said Rosy went for a check today.”

  “Very well, thank you. She’s going back again next week and they should be able to do something to help with her eye — it will be a wonderful birthday present for her.”

  Tara’s mother explained that Tara was eager for Rosy to come and play one day after school and asked if she would like to do it on her birthday as a special treat?

  Rosy’s mother looked embarrassed.

  “Thank you. That’s very kind of you, but her birthday is Saturday, the day of the school fete. And she can’t really play after school, you see my father’s in a wheelchair and he’s rather lonely and since there’s no one to look after Rosy when school finishes she goes there every day.”

  “I see. It must be difficult for you on your own.”

  “Yes it is.” Rosy’s mother looked tired and very sad.

  “And it’s hard on a child not to see her Dad or her dog,” murmured Tara’s Mum.

  Mrs. Farthing’s face snapped tight like a door slamming. “It’s best that she doesn’t see them,” she said, picked up her bags quickly and left.

  Tara’s Mummy relayed the conversation she’d had with Rosy Farthing’s mother to her husband later that evening.

  “What a shame,” he sighed. “There’s a man called Ron Farthing at work, I wonder if he’s Rosy’s Dad? Quiet fellow. He looks very unhappy these days. I believe he lives with his mother in the pink house on the hill — the one with the big oak tree in the front garden.”

  “Oh yes, I know the house,” said Mummy. “Her Dad’s looking after their dog and Rosy’s missing both of them,” she sighed and wondered if there was anything she could do.

  “Best not to interfere,” warned Dad.

  “No, you’re right,” agreed Mum. “It’s not our business. There’s nothing we can do.”

  But Tara was sitting under the kitchen table listening and she had different ideas. So did Ash-ting. They slipped out into the garden and Tara sat on the swing with the kitten on her knee.

  “What can we do to help Rosy?” she whispered.

  Thursday

  Ash-ting made a plan which filled Tara with excitement. She had to ask Mel to help because she was nine and could write very well. In exchange Tara had to promise to do all Mel’s jobs for a week and let her friends play with Ash-ting. Mel wrote a secret letter:

  Dear Rosy’s Daddy,

  Please come to our school fete on

  Saturday at 4 o’clock with a picture of

  your doggy so my Daddy can draw

  him for Rosy’s birthday present.

  Love from Tara.

  They addressed the envelope to

  Mr. Farthing, (Rosy’s Daddy)

  The pink house on the hill,

  With the big oak tree in the front garden

  Urgent please.

  Friday

  Rosy had an operation on her eye on Friday and did not come to school. Tara hoped she would be at the school fete. The whole class drew get well cards for Rosy. Tara drew four little girls holding hands and wrote four names below them: Tara, Rosy, Tracy and Rebecca. She wanted Rosy to know she had some friends to come back to at school.

  Saturday

  Dad was whistling as he shaved on Saturday morning. It was the day of the fete and he was looking forward to doing the drawings to raise funds for the school. Jack was happy because his picture had been chosen to go on the classroom wall and Mel was excited about her part in the dance display. Tara was excited and nervous — would Rosy’s Dad come along?

  Jack was happy because his picture had been chosen to go on the classroom wall. He held Mummy’s hand as he pulled her into the classroom. Proudly he pointed out his drawing of a blue train on red rails. Automatically Tara was about to say, “Yuk what a stupid picture,” when she felt a buzz sent by Ash-ti
ng. “Find one nice thing to say about Jack’s painting, Tara. One nice thing.” She stopped to think. “I like the colour of the train, Jack,” she commented. He beamed. Mum and Dad smiled and everyone was happy.

  They watched Mel in her dancing display and Tara clapped louder than anyone.

  After that Dad went to his table to start the drawings. There was such a long queue that they had to make appointments and the afternoon was soon fully booked right up to 3.30. Tracy’s mother was trying to persuade him to draw her dog. Dad shook his head, his day was fully booked. Tara was in a panic. She was sure that Tracy’s Mum would insist that he do it at four o’clock, but Dad was supposed to finish by then.

  “Dad, please I want you to paint Rosy’s dog for her birthday,” blurted Tara, “I promised you’d do it at 4 o’clock when your appointments were finished.”

  “Of course, but I can always draw her dog another time,” smiled Dad. He was in a good humour, doing what he loved to do.

  “No Dad, it’s her birthday today!”

  Seeing how much this meant to his daughter, he agreed with Tracy’s Mum to take the photo of her dog home and draw it for her that evening. Tara breathed a sigh of relief.

  But where was Rosy? And had her Dad even got the letter? Tara was beginning to feel very nervous about her plan. Rosy and her Mum arrived at half past three. Tara squealed with excitement and ran over to wish her friend a ‘Happy Birthday’. Rosy beamed — she was wearing a patch over one eye and Jack said she looked like a pirate. They all laughed.