Холли Вебб - The Secret Kitten

The awful thing was, Lucy would have liked Sara to come round. She’d love to have a friend home for tea. Gran and Dad kept gently asking if there was anyone she really liked at school and if she wanted to invite somebody over. William had had Harry round and been back to his house, too. And he’d been invited to a birthday party already.

But if Sara came round, then she’d know that Lucy had been lying about Catkin and she’d hate her. She might even tell the entire class that Lucy was a liar.

“I went to Egypt, you know,” Gran said thoughtfully, breaking into Lucy’s thoughts. “It must have been, oh, goodness, eight, ten years ago? Yes, just before you were born, Lucy. We went to see the pyramids, me and one of my old schoolfriends. Auntie Barbara, you remember her?”

Lucy didn’t, but she nodded as if she did. “You really went there? What was it like? Did you go and see the Great Pyramid?”

“We certainly did. We went inside it, as well. It was quite frightening,” Gran added slowly. “Very shadowy and hard to breathe. I didn’t like it much, Lucy, I have to admit, but I’m glad I saw it. And from the outside, they were incredible to look at. Wait a minute.” She smiled and got up, walking through into the living room. Lucy could hear her opening drawers in the big display cabinet that had most of her precious, ever-so-breakable ornaments in it.

Gran came back in, carefully unrolling a piece of brownish paper. “Look, this is what I brought back as a souvenir of the holiday, Lucy. It’s a papyrus. Like paper, but made out of reeds.” She held it out. “You can take it, have a look.”

Lucy looked at her uncertainly. “Isn’t it fragile?” she asked worriedly. She wanted to hold it – she could see that the painting on it was beautiful, a black cat wearing a jewelled necklace and even an earring, it looked like.

“I know you’ll be careful.” Gran smiled at her. “I ought to get it framed, really, it’s such a lovely painting. The box at the side says my name in hieroglyphics. I watched the man doing it.”

Lucy took the papyrus, feeling the roughness against her fingers. She could even see the lines of the reed stems in the weave. “The cat’s so beautiful,” she murmured. Then she grinned up at Gran. “I can’t see many cats agreeing to wear all that jewellery, though. Most of them don’t even like collars!”

Gran nodded. “But then she’s a goddess, this one. Bast, she’s called.”

Lucy examined the picture again. “There was a cat goddess? Wow… Gran, I could make my project about her!” Very carefully, she laid the papyrus down on the table so she could fling her arms around her gran. “I could copy the painting, maybe. You’re so clever!”

As she hugged Gran tightly, Lucy realized something else. Gran couldn’t possibly dislike cats that much, could she? Not when she’d chosen a painting of a cat as a special souvenir.

The black-and-white kitten was enjoying a patch of sunlight in the yard. Her mother was off looking for food and the little kitten was stretched out, snoozing, with her nose on her paws.

Her ears fluttered a little as she caught a noise, coming from the back of one of the shops, and then her eyes snapped open. Someone was coming!

She darted back into the safety of the box den, her heart thudding fast against her ribs. The voices were loud, frightening even, and there were heavy feet clumping all around her.

She pressed herself back into the corner of the box, thinking that they would just dump their rubbish in the bins and go. But no one usually came close to the pile of old boxes like this. It wasn’t a delivery – no van had driven down the alleyway. She was almost used to that noise, although she still didn’t like it.

This was something different. And then suddenly the box, her safe, warm box, shifted and split and she let out a high-pitched squeak of fright. What was happening?

“There’s something in there,” a deep voice growled. “Ugh, not rats?”

“I don’t think so – oh, there’s a stray cat that hangs around the yard – perhaps it’s her?”

Someone clapped their hands loudly, the sound sharp and echoing in the enclosed yard. “Go on, shoo! Off you go, cat!”

The kitten squeaked again and her box tipped sideways. She shot out, terrified, and streaked across the yard, away from the growling voices.

“There she goes – but that’s just a kitten. Not much bigger than a rat, poor little thing!”

The kitten huddled in the corner, panicking. Someone was coming towards her, huge boots thumping. She had never tried to climb the fences before, but anything was better than staying here. She sank her claws in the wood and scrabbled frantically upwards, balancing for a moment on the very top of the fence. Then she jumped down the other side and set off through the bushes, who knew where.

Lucy was stretched out in the long grass, idly picking the blades. She’d done her homework and typed up loads of work for her project on the computer. She felt relaxed and happy in the autumn sun. Gran had given her a sandwich, to keep her going until Dad got home and they could all have dinner together, but Lucy hadn’t finished it – she was feeling too lazy even to eat.

She could hear William right down the end of the garden, humming to himself as he investigated the greenhouse. Gran didn’t use it very much these days and some of the glass panes were broken, but Dad had told them he’d plant seeds in the springtime. He’d already tidied up the bit of the garden nearest to the house, but Lucy and William loved this wild part, with the overgrown bushes. It was full of hidden nests and little dark caves. Lucy glanced sideways, checking that the big spotted garden spider hanging off the branch by her foot hadn’t moved. She didn’t mind him being there – he’d probably lived here longer than she had – but she didn’t want him getting any closer.

He was still there. But underneath him, peering out at her from the shadows, was a tiny black-and-white face.

A kitten! The same kitten she had seen in the alleyway, Lucy was almost sure. She looked down the garden at the greenhouse and the fence. She hadn’t realized before, but the shops were very close to the back of Gran’s garden, even though to get to them by the street you had to go quite a way round.

“Did you climb over the fence?” Lucy whispered, very, very quietly.

The kitten stared back at her. She was very small and so thin, Lucy thought. She looked exhausted – as though she was frightened, but too worn out even to run.

Slowly, creeping her fingers across the grass, Lucy stretched out a hand to get her sandwich. It was chicken. Perfect for a kitten treat.

The kitten watched her, wide-eyed, shrinking back a little as Lucy’s hand came close. But then she smelled the chicken – Lucy could see the exact moment. Her whiskers twitched and her ears flicked forward, then her eyes grew even rounder.

Lucy tore off a tiny piece of sandwich and gently laid it down, just where the tufts of long grass met the branches. Then she watched. The kitten didn’t have to move far. If she wasn’t brave enough, maybe Lucy could throw her a piece further in, but that might scare her away.

The kitten looked at the piece of sandwich and Lucy could see her sniffing. She looked between Lucy and the sandwich a few times, then she wriggled forwards on her stomach, inching slowly towards the food. As soon as she was close enough, she seized the chickeny mouthful and darted back into the safety of the bush.

Lucy wanted to laugh, but she folded her lips together firmly, in case the noise scared the kitten away. She watched the kitten wolf down the scrap and then she tore off a little more. This time she left it a bit closer to her feet.