Шейла Нортон - Charlie The Kitten Who Saved A Life

‘I’m sorry we can’t take you with us, Charlie,’ Caroline was saying as she poured herself a glass of milk. ‘But I don’t think you’d like it anyway. And I don’t suppose we’ll be staying long, because of Jessica obviously .’

In that case I was grateful to Jessica for once. I couldn’t think what I was going to do all day, apart from sleeping, which I supposed wasn’t such a bad idea.

Everyone was soon downstairs having their breakfasts, so after I’d finished eating and washing, I shot upstairs quickly. I had this idea that if I hid under one of the beds, they might not find me when it was time to leave, and wouldn’t be able to shut me in the kitchen. The big bedroom was nice and sunny so I trotted in there. There was a lovely clean-sheet smell coming from Jessica’s strange new cot. I walked round it, sniffing appreciatively, then jumped up on the big bed next to it and looked down insideS. There was a nice fluffy white blanket in there, and a pink toy rabbit with silky ears. It all looked very cosy and tempting. It couldn’t hurt for me to have a little lie down in there, could it, while the baby wasn’t using it? I jumped down into it from the bed. The sheet was soft, and still warm from Jessica. I purred happily to myself as I started turning round and round to make a nice little nest for myself out of the blanket, finally snuggling down with my nose tucked up under my tail. With a bit of luck, they wouldn’t think to look for me in here and I could spend the day in comfort while they were out. I closed my eyes, still purring, and started to drift off into a dream …

‘CHARLIE!’

The shriek was so loud and high-pitched, I nearly jumped out of my fur. Laura was standing next to the cot, staring down at me, a look of horror on her face.

‘What’s the matter? Where is he?’ I heard Julian shouting as he came up the stairs.

‘In the baby’s cot, for God’s sake! Look at him!’ She sounded close to tears. ‘You bad boy!’ she snapped at me. ‘Get out!’

‘Sorry,’ I meowed, getting up and stretching.

‘I said get out!’ she said again, reaching down and picking me up quite roughly. ‘Take him downstairs and shut him in the kitchen,’ she said to Julian, handing me over as if I was something disgusting she couldn’t bear the sight of. ‘I can’t have this, Julian – I’m going to have to strip the cot now and wash everything.’

‘Really?’ he said. ‘But surely—’

‘He was curled up on her sheet! In her blanket! With his head on her rabbit! There’ll be cat’s hairs and … and germs, and goodness knows what … on it all.’

‘He’s quite clean, Laura,’ Julian said gently. He gave me a little stroke as he said it, and I responded with a grateful meow. Of course I was clean! I’d only just washed myself that morning, hadn’t I! ‘It used to be you telling me cats were clean animals, remember? When I wouldn’t let Oliver get anywhere near Caroline, while she was ill?’

‘That was different,’ she said, although she didn’t explain why. She started taking the sheet and blanket out of the cot, inspecting them as if I might have put muddy paw prints on them.

‘Just give them a shake outside,’ Julian said. ‘It’ll only be a few hairs, if anything. He’s only been up here a few minutes.’

‘They’re going in the wash,’ she retorted, walking ahead of him out of the room. ‘And in future, keep this bedroom door shut, please.’

My world was shrinking. Pretty soon the only place I was going to be allowed to go was my own bed. I could see it coming!

The time passed slowly after they went out. For a while I sat by the washing machine, watching Jessica’s sheet, fluffy blanket and pink toy rabbit going round and round, but that quickly got boring. I jumped up onto the windowsill and looked out at the garden. It was frustrating not to be able to tell the birds to clear off. I growled at them from behind the window but I could tell they were laughing at me because I couldn’t get out. There was the usual chattering mob of starlings, a pair of nice ripe blackbirds and a fluttering of finches, but every now and then the whole congregation was scattered by a huge ugly intruder who flew in abruptly, landed amongst them and strutted through the crowd as if he owned the place. Seagulls . I’d seen them before, of course, flying high in the sky over Little Broomford, wheeling and diving and calling out rudely to each other. Older cats had told me these seagulls were usually making their way to the coast, or sometimes coming inland for a while to take shelter from a storm. But none seemed to live permanently around our parts so I’d never before seen them at such close quarters and, to be honest, the first time one landed in the cottage garden I was glad there was a window between us. I’d had no idea they were so big. His feet were huge, and his beak looked like it could swallow a little cat with one bite. I watched him waddle into the crowd of smaller birds, dispersing them just with a glare from his beady eyes, and found myself backing away slightly on my windowsill even though I knew I was safe.

‘Don’t be such a scaredy-cat, Charlie,’ I told myself sternly. ‘It’s just a bird! Since when have you been frightened of anything with feathers? You’ve eaten bigger things than him for breakfast!’

That wasn’t strictly true. He would’ve been big enough for breakfast, lunch and dinner for several cats. But I couldn’t imagine trying to catch him anyway. His walk was even more ungainly than a stupid fat pigeon’s, but when he took off in flight it was with such a sudden ferocious flapping of his huge wings that all the other birds went rushing for cover, and he was instantly airborne, swooping aloft in the currents, calling back mockingly at those who were still on the ground. I’ve sometimes chased ducks as they take off from beside that big pond in my grounds. They’re always good for a laugh. When they take off after swimming on the water, they skim the surface quite gracefully, but on land it’s completely different. They have to take such a long, waddling run to get up into the air, it feels like I could bring one down with just a swipe of my paw. But this seagull wasn’t like that. There was something arrogant about him that made me quiver from head to tail. I didn’t like him. But however much I shouted at him from the window, I had a feeling he’d be back.

I was glad to hear the family coming home at long last. Caroline came straight into the kitchen to see me.

‘Have you been lonely, Charlie boy?’ she crooned, squatting down to hug me.

‘Yes!’ I purred into her ear. ‘And there was this big seagull in the garden—’

‘We had to give up on our picnic and bring it home,’ she said, ignoring me. ‘The seagulls were dive-bombing us on the beach, trying to steal our sandwiches! Laura was going frantic about Jessica getting her fingers bitten.’

I sat up, instantly alert. So I was right! Seagulls were bullies, aggressive yobs, just as I’d suspected. Trying to steal sandwiches from humans, indeed! Who did they think they were? Next time I saw one in the garden I’d … I’d … well, I’d growl and hiss at him from the window, that was for sure.

‘I won’t be taking her on that beach again, I can tell you that,’ Laura was saying as she came into the kitchen with Jessica in her arms. ‘The poor little mite was terrified.’

‘ You were,’ Caroline said, half under her breath. ‘Jessica didn’t even notice.’

‘Caroline, put the kettle on, would you, please? And go and brush the sand off your shorts before you sit down in the lounge. I hope you left your shoes in the porch?’

‘Yes.’ Caroline went to the tap to fill the kettle. ‘Just a few stupid seagulls,’ she muttered to me. ‘You’d have seen them off, Charlie, wouldn’t you?’