Холли Вебб - The Missing Kitten

“You’re not mixing up the days?” Izzy asked Eleanor doubtfully.

Eleanor shook her head. “Nope. I’m certain. It was yesterday when it was raining. And your kitten was soaked, Scarlett. His fur was actually dripping. I saw him out of the window; he was in the playground. Before break, I think.”

“He must have got out of the window really soon after we left,” Scarlett murmured. “Thank you, Eleanor! I have to go and look for him!”

There was sunlight coming in from somewhere else, Bootle noticed, as the shed grew slowly lighter that morning. It wasn’t just the space around the door. Where there was light, perhaps there was some sort of hole, or another window that might be open, so he could climb through it.

It was up at the top, near the ceiling, he thought. Very high up. Much higher than Scarlett’s window. But then, there were a lot more things to climb in here. Piles of chairs, some benches and more of those mats. He’d just have to find a way to reach it.

Bootle was sure that Scarlett was looking for him – almost sure, anyway. But the shed was all the way across the field from the school, he’d realized, as he lay curled up on the mats. What if Scarlett didn’t know about it? He couldn’t wait for someone to let him out. He would have to do it for himself.

He stretched out his paws, which felt a little better this morning, though they still ached from all that scrabbling and scratching. Then he padded across the pile of mats, and made a wobbly jump on to an old wooden bench. That was the first step…

“Where do we start?” Izzy asked, as they hurried across the playground.

“I don’t know. Maybe we should find Jackson and tell him that those girls saw Bootle,” Scarlett suggested, but she couldn’t see her brother anywhere, and she wanted to get started searching. “My dad rang up yesterday, remember? And he spoke to Mrs Lucy in the office, and she went and asked in the staff room. No one had seen Bootle. So he wasn’t just hanging around school looking for us.”

Izzy frowned. “I know I keep going on about him being shut in somewhere, but…”

Scarlett shook her head. “No, I think you’re right! It’s the only thing that makes sense. But where?”

Izzy shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe the classroom cupboards? Do you think if we asked Mrs Lucy we could go and look? Oh no! There’s the bell.”

Scarlett looked anxiously round as everyone began to collect their stuff and head into school. “I can’t go into school now! I can’t! Bootle’s here somewhere, I know he is!”

Izzy patted her shoulder. “It’s OK. Look, we’ll tell Mrs Mason that Bootle might be here. We have to go in, Scarlett. We’ll get in trouble otherwise.”

Scarlett almost didn’t care, but she supposed Izzy was right. Maybe they could ask the head teacher what to do? She’d said her dog used to follow her to school. She’d understand.

But Miss Wilson was talking to one of the other teachers, and she just waved the girls past when Scarlett tried to hover in the doorway and talk to her.

Mrs Mason was late coming into their class, and when she finally arrived she had her arms full of different coloured PE bibs, and she didn’t look as though she wanted to hear about kittens, even though Izzy tried her best.

“Oh dear… Well, I’m sure you can have a look at break,” she said distractedly, when the girls tried to explain. “Sit down, please, you two.”

Sit down! Scarlett opened her mouth to argue, but Mrs Mason wasn’t even looking at her any more.

“Once we’ve done the register, everyone, I’ve got some exciting news – we’re going to start practising for Sports Day. We’ve scheduled in a couple of extra PE sessions, and the first one is this morning. So let’s just mark everyone in…” She moved names around on the whiteboard. “Where’s Keisha? Is she still not well? OK.”

“I don’t want to do PE,” Scarlett whispered frantically. “I have to go and look for Bootle!”

“PE!” Izzy nudged her. “I’ve just thought! Shut up in a shed, Scarlett, we said he might be!”

“What are you talking about?” Scarlett was biting back tears.

“There’s a little shed at the end of the field, where Mr Larkin, the caretaker, keeps stuff that doesn’t get used all that much. He was definitely carrying chairs in and out yesterday; I heard him complaining about how wet he’d got.”

“So the shed was open?” Scarlett breathed, her eyes widening.

Izzy nodded. “It must have been.”

“Now go and get changed, please, everyone,” Mrs Mason called. “Then we’ll go up to the hall, as it’s still a bit too wet on the field.”

“I’m not getting changed,” Scarlett said, glaring at Izzy as though she thought her friend might tell her off. “I’m going to find Bootle.”

Izzy shrugged. “Uh-huh, and I’m coming with you. Come on.”

They hurried out of the classroom, ahead of everyone else, and Izzy grabbed Scarlett’s hand. “It’s this way. There’s a side door, come on.” She pulled Scarlett down the corridor, and pushed open a door Scarlett hadn’t even known about. “Quick way out to the field.”

“Hey, Izzy!” someone called. “We’re in the hall, not the field! And you aren’t changed!”

But Izzy and Scarlett were already running across the damp grass.

Bootle wobbled on the old chair. He was almost there – he could see the narrow wooden windowsill and the dirty pane of glass. The wind was shaking it, as though it was loose. If he could only get to it, maybe he could push his way out, somehow?

He balanced himself again, teetering on the edge of the chair. He’d scrambled his way up the whole pile, and it had taken so long. If he misjudged his jump to the window, he wasn’t sure he’d have the strength to climb up all over again. He was so hungry, and tired, and his paws hurt.

His whiskers flicked and shook as he tried to work out how he could make the jump. It was much further than he’d ever jumped before. And the strip of wood along the window was so very small. But if it meant he could get out… Then he would go back home, and wait there for Scarlett. He would see if he could get back in through the cat flap.

He tensed his muscles to spring, and crouched there, trembling a little, trying to summon up the courage to leap.

Then his ears twitched. He could hear someone! People, talking!

“Bootle! Bootle, are you in there? Is the door locked, Izzy?”

That was Scarlett!

Bootle let out a shrill desperate meow, and forgot to worry about how narrow the ledge was. He just went for it, scrabbling madly with his paws as he almost made it, and then heaving himself up on to the windowsill.

Then he batted his paws against the glass, mewing frantically.

“I can hear him! He is in there, Izzy, you were right!”

“It’s locked. I’ll go and get Mr Larkin.”

Bootle heard feet thudding away, and cried out in panic. They hadn’t heard him! They were going!

“It’s OK, Bootle. Where are you?”

There were noises outside and Bootle banged his nose against the grubby window, trying to see what was happening.

Scarlett pulled herself up on to the little tiny ledge on the outside of the window. “I can see you! It’s really you, Bootle. Oh, I’ve been so worried. I can’t believe you climbed out of a window.” She giggled with relief, and sniffed. “And now you’re trying to climb out of this one, aren’t you, silly kitten.”

Bootle mewed and scraped, but the window wouldn’t open. How was he going to get to Scarlett?

“Oh! Mr Larkin! The keys!” Scarlett’s face disappeared from the window, and Bootle wriggled himself round as the door rattled and shook. And then it opened.

With a joyful yowl, he bounded back to the wobbly chair, and took a flying leap to the mats, and then Scarlett was there, hugging him.