The Loneliest Kitten

by Holly Webb

  “I wonder where he can have got to,” Mum said as she came back in. “He’s usually good at turning up for meals, although…”

  “What?” Darcy asked anxiously. “Although what, Mum?”

  “Have you noticed that Charlie hasn’t been around as much over the last week? And he hasn’t been climbing on me while I’m working.”

  Darcy shook her head. “No. He’s always here when we get home from school.” Then she was silent for a minute. Was he? Would she definitely have noticed? She’d been so busy with after-school football training and all the extra practice she was doing. “Mum, do you think something’s happened to him?”

  “I’m sure he’s fine,” her mum said encouragingly, but there was still no Charlie.

  Darcy was just starting to get really panicky when the kitten appeared, popping in through the cat flap and strolling calmly across the kitchen. He looked quite surprised when Darcy swooped down and picked him up for a hug.

  “We didn’t know where you were!” she murmured, rubbing his ears.

  Charlie blinked at her and nudged her chin with his chilly little nose. “Are you hungry?” Darcy asked him. She kept him cuddled in one arm and used the other hand to reach the bag of kitten food out of the cupboard.

  Mum took over and poured biscuits into Charlie’s bowl. Darcy had expected him to leap down at once and start eating but he didn’t seem very interested. He just sniffed at the bag as she got it out, that was all. When she put him down next to the bowl he only nibbled a couple of mouthfuls and then he sat next to the food and started to wash. He didn’t seem to be hungry at all.

  “Perhaps he doesn’t like it,” Will suggested, looking down at the cat biscuits. “I wouldn’t. It smells horrible.”

  “He’s liked it until now,” Darcy said. “Why would he suddenly change his mind?”

  “Actually, I’ve noticed he hasn’t been eating the whole bowl, recently,” Mum said. “Perhaps we should cut down on how much we’re giving him. If he’s not growing quite as fast now he’s a bit older, maybe he’s not as hungry.”

  “Maybe…” Darcy sighed. She couldn’t help feeling there was more to it. But at least it was Friday and she could keep a really careful eye on Charlie over the weekend. They didn’t have much planned until her football match on Sunday afternoon so she could spend loads of time with him.

  “Darcy, what are you doing?” Mum called out of the kitchen window.

  “I’m trying to teach Charlie how to be a stunt cat,” Darcy yelled back. “He high-fived me! Did you see?”

  “I can see him eating a lot of cat treats,” Mum said, a minute or so later.

  “That’s how the training works. You reward them every time they get it right. Or almost right. He’s very clever,” Darcy said lovingly, holding out her hand for Charlie to tap. He sniffed at her hopefully, looking for another treat.

  “OK… Just don’t feed him the whole bag!”

  The website she’d been reading had said only to do five-minute training sessions, Darcy remembered. She didn’t want Charlie to get fed up. “You’re a very good boy,” she told him, putting the treats in her pocket. “What shall we do now, hmm?”

  She’d been trying to keep an eye on him all day but she was beginning to think that they’d been worrying about nothing. Charlie had eaten almost all his breakfast and then she’d played with him, rolling a jingly ball up and down the hallway. He’d snoozed on the arm of the sofa for a bit. Then he’d stalked a feather round her bedroom floor while she’d done her homework. Will had taken him downstairs and played with the cat dancer and then Charlie had sat under the kitchen table looking hopeful for the whole of lunch. He might have got the end of a cheese sandwich.

  Everything was fine.

  Darcy turned as she heard footsteps behind her, and saw Will coming out on to the patio.

  “Play football with me?” Will asked coaxingly. “Please, Darcy? I’m bored.”

  “Not right now. I’m trying to play with Charlie.”

  “You aren’t. You’re just sitting there.”

  “Is that my football you’ve got?” Darcy asked suspiciously. “That’s my new one!”

  “It was behind that flowerpot.” Will shrugged. “You should put it away if it’s so special.”

  “You’re not playing with it,” Darcy said firmly. “I’m serious.”

  “Don’t be so mean!”

  “Will, that’s my new ball, go and get your own!”

  Will didn’t answer. He smirked at Darcy and started to kick the ball against the garden wall.

  “Mum!” Darcy yelled. “Make him stop playing with it!”

  Will looked round to see if Mum was in the kitchen, listening, and lost control of the ball. It went flying over the back fence.

  “Oh, now look what you’ve done,” Darcy said furiously. “We’ll never get it back.”

  “Sorry…” Will said shamefacedly. “I’ll go round and ask for it.”

  “It’s no good,” Darcy snapped. “It didn’t go next-door into Hannah’s, it went behind – that’s the garden for the flats. And we don’t even know which flat it belongs to.” Then she stopped scowling at Will and turned slowly. “Where’s Charlie?”

  Will looked round the garden. “I don’t know.”

  “But I was trying to watch him. I don’t believe it – this is all your fault, Will!”

  Charlie wriggled underneath the fence into the old lady’s garden. He adored Darcy, especially when she was playing with him or he was snuggled up next to her in a fold of duvet at night-time – but loud voices and shouting made him nervous and twitchy. He didn’t like it when Darcy and Will argued. Every time they had a spat, the fur would start to prickle up along his spine and his tail lashed. The old lady’s basement flat was always peaceful – there was no shouting. And she had cat treats now too.

  He padded up the garden and nosed hopefully at the glass door. It was shut but one of the windows next to it was open a crack. He could definitely fit through there. He sprang up on to the windowsill and wriggled his way in, stepping carefully around the photo frames and the vase on the inside. There didn’t seem to be anyone at home but there was a patch of warm sunlight on the rug so he sat down in it and started to lick his paws. He’d stay a while and then maybe he’d go back and see if Darcy wanted to play again. In a bit…

  “He’s been gone for ages,” Darcy said miserably. “Hours, Mum. He never stays away this long. It’s teatime and usually he’s starving. He’s always sitting around looking hopeful long before we feed him.”

  Mum frowned. “Not for the last week or so, Darcy. Like I told you, he just doesn’t seem as bothered about his food any more. That’s why I cut down how much I gave him for breakfast this morning.”

  Darcy stared at her. She vaguely remembered Mum saying something about that the day before when Charlie hadn’t turned up in time for tea, but she’d been more worried about where Charlie actually was and she hadn’t really been listening. Clearly she should have been.

  “And you said he hadn’t been around as much,” she murmured. “He wasn’t bothering you while you were working… That’s why I was trying to keep an eye on him today.”

  Her mum nodded. “I’ve missed him,” she admitted with a worried smile. “I used to moan when he walked across the keyboard – he wasn’t that helpful when I was trying to get people’s accounts to balance, but actually he did make it a lot more fun…”

  “And then he stopped doing it?”

  “Yes… I assumed it was because he was getting a bit older and less playful. I just thought he was sleeping more.” Mum nibbled her bottom lip and glanced at the cat flap as though she hoped Charlie might just pop through it.

  He didn’t.

  “That makes sense, though,” Dad said helpfully. “Cats sleep more when they’re older, don’t they?”

  Darcy sat down on one of the kitchen chairs, her heart thumping fast. Charlie kept disappearing and he wasn’t as bothered about his food. It was almost as if�
� She looked down at her fingers, twisting them over and over. It was almost as if he didn’t think their house was home any more. He was going somewhere else. “Do you think he’s got another home?” she blurted out.

  “What?” Will shook his head. “He couldn’t.” He sounded almost angry. “Don’t say that, Darcy.”

  “Someone else who’s feeding him and playing with him…” Darcy went on unhappily. She felt really guilty. She’d been so excited about getting their own kitten, and she and Will had made such a fuss over him those first weeks. They’d loved Charlie and played with him all the time. They’d carried him about, they’d built him adventure playgrounds out of pillows and comfy beds whenever he’d looked the tiniest bit sleepy. They’d followed him anxiously once he was allowed out and started to explore the garden.

  Then school had started again and Darcy had been chosen for the football team – and suddenly there were more exciting things than kittens to think about.

  But she’d had to practise, a little voice protested inside her. It was important! Well, yes, it was – but she didn’t need to have done that much practice, Darcy admitted to herself. And all those football books she’d borrowed from the library, because she had to be the best in the team…

  Darcy winced as she remembered putting Charlie down on the floor because he would keep sitting on the exact diagram that she was trying to look at. He’d only wanted to play with her, she thought now. He hadn’t understood – there had been so many weeks in the holidays when she’d wanted to do nothing but play. And he’d thought they would carry on as before and she’d been annoyed with him. She’d told him to stop it. Darcy felt tears pressing up behind her eyes and she sniffed.

  What about Will, though? There had been Will for Charlie to play with, the little voice inside her tried to point out. Except Darcy knew quite well that Will wanted to do everything she did, because she was his big sister and he wanted to be just as grown up as she was. And because Darcy was spending all her time on football, Will was too. That’s why he’d taken her ball and tried to play with it. Then while she was shouting at him about it, their kitten had given up on them and gone to find somewhere nicer to live. Somewhere people actually wanted him around.

  The tears spilled over and Darcy gasped out, “I don’t think he wants us any more!”

  Mum and Dad had tried to convince Darcy that she was wrong and that Charlie loved their house, but it was harder and harder to do that when he still hadn’t come home. And he didn’t … all night.

  “He hasn’t even got his collar on,” Darcy sobbed at bedtime. “We never remembered to go to the pet shop and get him a new one. It’s been days since he’s had a collar. If he has found another home, the people probably think that he’s a stray because they’ve never seen him with one.”

  “I wish he was better at keeping them on,” Mum said, sighing.

  Darcy gave a damp sort of laugh. “It isn’t that he’s bad at keeping them on, Mum. He takes them off on purpose. He’s too clever. He rubs them against the chair legs until they come off.” Her voice shook with tears again and Mum hugged her tight. How could their clever, gorgeous, perfect kitten not want to be theirs any more?

  Later that night she heard Mum and Dad talking when she went downstairs to get a drink of water. They were in the living room and they didn’t know she was there. Darcy sank down on the stairs and listened, peering through the banisters.

  “Do you think Darcy’s right?” Dad was asking. “Someone else has adopted him?”

  She heard Mum sigh. “It’s possible, isn’t it? We have neglected him a bit – I just hadn’t realized… But to be honest, Dave, I’d rather he’s being fussed over by someone than… Well, people go so quickly along this road and he’s only little. Cats are terrible with roads, they can’t tell how fast the cars are.”

  “Someone would have come and told us if he’d been hit, surely. Oh – except he hasn’t got his collar on.”

  “Exactly,” Mum said grimly. “But hopefully anyone who picked him up would have taken him to the vet and they’d scan his microchip. They’d ring us.”

  “Mmmm. I suppose he could be shut in somewhere… A shed, maybe, or a garage.”

  Darcy didn’t want to listen any more. She crept slowly back upstairs to bed, but after that it took ages for her to get to sleep. She lay there, imagining Charlie trapped in a dark shed, mewing and mewing for her to come and let him out. Or frozen in the headlights of a car… That was too horrible. She buried her head in her pillow, trying not to think about it.

  She still woke up early the next morning, though. They all did. Last night they’d walked up and down the road, peering over fences and walls and calling for Charlie. They’d asked all the neighbours they’d seen, but no one had spotted a kitten. They just had to keep trying, Dad said firmly. He had to be somewhere.

  “We ought to find a photo of Charlie and make a poster,” Mum suggested.

  “Oh! Can we do it now?” Darcy asked, jumping up. She’d been trying to eat a piece of toast because Mum had said she must eat something, but it just wasn’t going down.

  “You hardly ate anything last night…” Mum started to say, but then she shook her head and sighed. “Actually, I’m not very hungry either. All right. Let’s look through my phone for a good photo.”

  Darcy and Will peered over Mum’s shoulder, looking at photos of Charlie. There were so many – Charlie splayed out on the sofa, legs everywhere; Charlie sitting in a cereal bowl Mum had left on the table; Charlie asleep with his nose in his food dish. Darcy felt her eyes prickling with tears again – she had to stop! It was no use crying, it wasn’t going to help them find their kitten. She sniffed hard and pointed to a photo of Charlie staring out hopefully. He must have been waiting for his tea or maybe a treat. It showed off his lovely big yellow-green eyes and his tabby and white colouring.

  “Yes, that’s a good one,” Mum agreed. “I’ll download it on to my computer and we’ll make it into a poster.” She went to turn on the computer and Darcy followed her.

  “What are we going to say?” she asked Mum. “I mean, if we think someone might have adopted Charlie, what we really want to say is ‘Give us our cat back!’. But I suppose we can’t…”

  “We don’t know for sure that is what’s happened,” Mum pointed out. “Though it does seem likely. What about this?” She typed quickly and then leaned back so Darcy could see.

  “It’s perfect,” Darcy agreed.

  Mum added her mobile number and printed out twenty copies. “We’ll start with these. If we don’t hear anything, perhaps we should do some little ones to put through all the neighbours’ doors.”

  Darcy nodded, swallowing hard. It had just hit her that they were really going to put up these posters – people were going to look at them and think, Oh, I must keep an eye out for that poor little cat. Of course that was a good thing, but it was horrible they had to do it. She had walked past so many posters just like this one and felt sorry about the poor lost cat and the sad owners, and now they were the sad owners.

  “We’re going to keep looking as well, though, aren’t we?” she said to Mum. “We only did our road yesterday. We ought to go round to Thirsk Way too, and the one where our gardens back on to theirs – Barrett Close, isn’t it?”

  “We will, don’t worry,” Mum said. “We can look all morning, but then we’ve got to take you to your football match.”

  Darcy stared at her. She had completely forgotten about the football match! She shook her head. “I can’t! Not when Charlie’s missing, Mum. I just can’t. Please will you tell Mrs Jennings I can’t go?”

  Mum looked at her worriedly. “I’m not sure we should do that, sweetheart. You’re part of a team. You’ll be letting everyone else down.”

  “I won’t – it will just mean Emma gets more of a chance to play. Honestly, she’ll be really pleased. Don’t you see? I stopped looking after Charlie properly because I was so caught up with the football team. I was practising all the time and not both
ering to play with him. But now I don’t care if I never get to be in the team again, if only we can find Charlie and he’s safe.”

  Mum sighed. “OK. Maybe I won’t tell Mrs Jennings exactly that, but hopefully she’ll understand.”

  Charlie had meant to go home – after a little while. After he’d given Darcy and Will time to calm down and stop shouting. When they were arguing it made the fur on the back of his neck rise up and it hurt his ears. He’d never bitten Darcy or Will, he’d never wanted to, except sometimes when they were yelling at each other and the anger seemed to be in the air all around them. Then it made him want to nip their ankles. It was better just not to be there.

  When the old lady came home with a couple of shopping bags, she’d laughed to see him curled up and snoozing on her rug. She crouched down with an effort, rubbed his ears and spoke softly to him, telling him how beautiful he was and what nice company.

  “There I was feeling quite lonely and now you’ve come to see me,” she murmured.

  Charlie sat up and purred, pushing his head affectionately into her stroking hand and twining himself around her.

  “It’s a good thing I picked up a few more of those food sachets, isn’t it? Are you hungry, little one?” She stood up and Charlie followed her eagerly into the kitchen. He was hungry. And after he’d eaten he was sleepy and it was so nice to curl up on the old lady’s lap on the sofa. He would go back later on, under the fence and over the wall, back to Darcy and Will… But the flat was cosy and quiet and somehow, he just didn’t.