The Curious Kitten

by Holly Webb

  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.

  “That is 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.

  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 for this 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.

  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…

  “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?”

  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 be absolutely 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.

  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 A
mber 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.

  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.

  “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.”

  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.”

  “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.”

  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.

  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.

  “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…”

  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.