Холли Вебб: The Missing Kitten

Scarlett shook her head. He was trying to be nice, but he just didn’t get it.

“You had loads of friends at your old school,” said Jackson. “Why do you think you won’t make friends here?”

“It’s such a little school,” Scarlett tried to explain. “Only one class in each year, and not that many in each class, either. They’ll all know each other so well. Like I know Lucy and Ella.” She wished she was as confident as Jackson. He’d already managed to go out for a walk and found a couple of boys playing football. He’d joined in, and then he’d gone back to their house. Scarlett wasn’t sure how he did it.

Jackson rolled his eyes. “Come on. We’re nearly there.”

They went into the shop, and Jackson went to look at football magazines, while Scarlett found the cat food. Then she realized that there were a couple of other girls standing behind her.

“Who’s she?” one of them whispered.

“Don’t you remember? It’s that new girl. The one who came to school for a morning.”

“Ohhh! What’s she called?”

“Something weird. Amber or something.”

Scarlett felt like her stomach was squeezing into a tiny little knot inside her. That was her they were talking about. The one with the weird name. She wanted to scream, “Scarlett!” But she didn’t. She grabbed a couple of tins of cat food, and scuttled over to where Jackson was.

School was going to be a disaster. It was so obvious.

Scarlett lay in bed, watching her clock creep closer to seven. She’d been awake for ages, worrying about their first day at school, and now she just wished it would hurry up and be time.

A throaty purr distracted her, and a soft paw patted her chin. Bootle liked her to be paying attention to him, not the clock.

“I’m glad I went downstairs and fetched you before breakfast,” Scarlett said, tickling him behind the ears. “I know I look miserable, but you’re making me feel a lot better.”

Bootle closed his eyes happily, and purred even louder. Scarlett knew all the places he liked to be stroked, and how he particularly liked being on her bed. It was much cosier than his basket.

“I’m really going to miss you today,” Scarlett murmured. “I hope you’ll be OK. Dad’ll look after you.” She sighed, a huge sigh that lifted up the duvet round her middle, and Bootle’s ears twitched excitedly. He wriggled forward, and peered down under the duvet. It was like a dark little nest, and he wriggled into it, just his tail sticking out, and flicking from side to side.

“What are you doing?” Scarlett giggled. “Silly cat! Oh, Bootle, you’re tickling my legs!”

Even the tail had disappeared now. Bootle was a plump little mound travelling around under the duvet. Then he popped out at the other end of the bed, his ginger fur looking all spiky and ruffled up. He shook himself, and ran a paw over his ears.

Scarlett twitched her toes under the duvet, and he stopped washing and pounced on them excitedly, jumping from side to side as she wriggled them about.

“You’re awake!” Mum put her head round the door. “Time to get up, Scarlett. Hello, Bootle.” She came in and patted him. “Are you worried he’ll miss you while you’re at school?”

Scarlett nodded, and Mum hugged her. “It’ll be fine, sweetheart. Now he’s allowed in the garden he’ll probably just go out and try and chase butterflies again.” She looked at Scarlett. “And you’ll be fine too. Honestly. Try not to worry about it.”

Scarlett nodded. But she wished she felt as sure as everybody else seemed to.

Bootle sat on the back doorstep, next to his cat flap, staring around the garden. He was confused, and a bit bored. Scarlett had gone somewhere. He’d known that she was going – she had picked him up and made a huge fuss of him before she went, and her voice had been different to normal, as though something was wrong. But he hadn’t expected her to be gone this long.

He stalked crossly down the garden, sniffing at the grass, looking for something interesting to do. He sharpened his claws on the trunk of the apple tree, and tried to climb it, but he wasn’t all that good at climbing yet, and he only got halfway up before he got worried and jumped down again. Then he had to sit and wash for a while, pretending to himself that he’d never meant to climb it in the first place.

Where was she? Jackson had gone too – he preferred to play with Scarlett, but Jackson was very good at inventing games with sticks, and bits of string to jump at.

Why had they gone away and left him? And when were they coming back?

“Bootle! Did you miss me?” Scarlett picked him up, and hugged him lovingly, and Bootle rubbed his head against her cheek.

Dad had come to meet them from school, as it was the first day, but tomorrow they were going to walk there and back by themselves.

“Come and have a biscuit,” Dad suggested. “Then you can both tell me what it was like, now there’s no one else around.” When he’d asked Scarlett at the school gate how her day was, she’d just muttered, “Fine,” but he could tell she was only being polite.

“It was all right.” Jackson shrugged, munching a chocolate biscuit. “Played football at lunch. The teacher was a bit strict. Shouted at people for talking. But it was fine.”

Dad looked over at Scarlett, who sighed. “It was OK. This girl called Izzy got told to look after me, and she was nice. She took me around with her at break and lunchtime. But – well, it was only because she had to.”

“She might really like you!” Dad pointed out.

Scarlett ran one of Bootle’s huge ears between her fingers, and sighed. “Maybe… It wasn’t as bad as it could have been,” she admitted. The two girls she’d seen in the shop hadn’t said anything else about her weird name, which was what she’d been worrying about. They’d been on the same table as her and Izzy at lunch, and they’d been quite friendly, and asked her where she lived, and if she’d had to catch the bus to school. It turned out that lots of the children did – they came from several different villages, and a school bus went round and picked them all up.

“It’s nice we can walk to school,” she said to Dad, who was still looking worried about her.

Bootle rubbed himself against her red sweater, leaving gingery hairs all over it, and Scarlett stroked him again. Whatever happened at school, at least she could come home and play with him. She couldn’t imagine being without him now.

“You’re sure you wouldn’t like me to come with you?” Dad asked, for about the fourth time.

“No!” Jackson said. “Honestly, Dad. We’re fine. It takes about ten minutes to get to school, and we don’t even have to cross a road. Stop fussing.”

Bootle was sitting on the bottom step of the stairs, watching disapprovingly as Scarlett and Jackson got ready. They were going again, just like yesterday! Why was he being left behind? He let out a tiny, furious mew, but Scarlett only kissed the top of his head, and went out of the door, leaving him with Dad.

Dad picked Bootle up, and tickled his ears, before rubbing the top of his head. But then he put him back down on the stairs, and headed into the room where his computer was. He was going to be too busy to play, again.

Bootle stalked into the kitchen, and inspected his food bowl, which was empty. He had a little water, and looked at his basket. He didn’t really feel like sleeping. And if this was anything like yesterday, Scarlett and Jackson would be gone for hours.

He didn’t see why he couldn’t go with them. Until yesterday, he’d been with Scarlett almost all the time.

Bootle walked over to the cat flap and sniffed at it, carefully. They hadn’t been gone long. Perhaps, if he was quick, he could follow them. Bootle shot out of the cat flap, and dashed into the back garden. Scarlett and Jackson had gone out of the front door, so he hurried around the side of the house, and on to the little patch of front garden. He nosed his way under the blue gate, flattening himself down underneath the wooden panels, and coming out into the lane, next to the car. His whiskers twitched excitedly as he tried to work out which way Scarlett had gone. He could follow her scent, he was sure. He sniffed busily at the grasses, and set off running.