Рейчел Уэллс: Alfie Cat In Trouble

‘Oh no, we must have moles,’ Viola said quickly.

‘Moles?’ Mr Clover asked.

‘In London?’ Mrs Clover added. ‘Do you get moles in London?’ I looked at Stanley who was staring at his sister, open-mouthed.

‘Oh yes, I read about it, it’s a real problem,’ Viola said, as if she knew what she was talking about. I didn’t think she did; I’d lived in London for all of my six cat years and never even seen one mole.

‘Right, well I better go and look up how to get rid of them.’ Mr Clover went into the house.

‘And Stanley, you can repair the lawn before you go to your room,’ Mrs Clover said. She was angrier than ever as she clutched her poles and marched inside.

Viola turned to Stanley who looked as if he was going to cry.

‘Don’t worry, Stan, I’ll help,’ she said quietly.

‘Thank you for saying it was moles, Vi. I really didn’t want to get into any more trouble.’ Stanley smiled sadly at her.

‘You’re welcome,’ Viola smiled back. As they filled in the holes, Viola tried to cheer Stanley up by making jokes and I sat watching. They really could be the best of friends, I thought, but they just needed a little bit of help. Luckily, I was here.

The lawn fixed, Stanley slunk upstairs to his room. I wasn’t allowed to go with him. I felt bad and powerless as I sat in the kitchen, trying to think. Viola was now practising her piano; Mrs Clover was cleaning her rainforest poles and Mr Clover was making a display of his latest project: black apples. He was admiring them, looking very pleased with himself.

I knew then, even more clearly, exactly what I had to do. Viola and Stanley should be sticking together. So now, all that was left was for me to figure out exactly how to unite them.

It wasn’t a very happy house as I appeared at the Clovers. Stanley was in his room, lying on his bed. He didn’t even cheer up when I arrived. Viola was alone in her room, reading a book and looking sad. She didn’t make even half as much of a fuss of me as she usually did. I was so determined to come up with a plan to bring Stanley and Viola together but they seemed further apart than ever, and I hadn’t even got a proper idea yet. I noticed that Mrs Clover was shut in the Clay Room. Did no one in this family spend time with each other? The doorbell rang and so I went downstairs. Mr Clover was holding a pink egg as he opened the door.

‘Hello?’ he said.

‘I’m Mr Ivory the piano tuner,’ the man standing on the doorstep said. He was large and had a big bag with him.

‘Oh, I’d quite forgotten about you,’ Mr Clover said. ‘Do come in.’

I followed them to the piano.

‘Wow, that is a beautiful piano,’ Mr Ivory looked excited.

‘Well, yes, but it’s no egg,’ Mr Clover replied. The piano tuner gave him a funny look.

I stayed with Mr Ivory. It was quite interesting watching him work, although I had no idea what he was doing. At the same time, I started to formulate a plan to bring Stanley and Viola together. It was the piano that took up most of Viola’s time and her parents seemed to be preoccupied with it, too. Stanley felt neglected and too upset to see that Viola could help him, if only he would let her. As Mr Ivory tinkered with this and that, making some very odd noises along the way – the piano not him – I realised that it could be part of my plan. Perhaps I could learn to play a tune. Viola and Stanley would be so happy, or they would find it so funny, that it would bring them together.

I am not just a pretty cat, you know.

When Mr Ivory had finished, he went to find Mr Clover. I jumped up to start practising but the top of the piano was still open and I climbed up to have a look. It was bumpy but warm as I lay down for a minute. I was tired after all the thinking I’d been doing. I yawned and closed my eyes, just for a short cat nap …

I opened my eyes. It was pitch black. I blinked. I couldn’t see a thing.

‘YOWL!’ I realised I was inside the piano; the lid was closed. I tried to nudge it with my paw but it wouldn’t open. I was trapped. In a piano! What on earth was I going to do? I miaowed, yowled and yelped as loudly as I could and just as I was beginning to think I would be here forever, I heard voices.

‘But he has to be here,’ I heard Stanley say. He sounded distraught.

‘But we’ve looked everywhere, Stan,’ Viola replied. ‘Maybe we should get Mum and Dad?’

‘As if they care.’

‘Oh Stan, they do, I know they seem a bit distracted …’

‘Except when they’re shouting at me. Face it, Vi, they love you better.’

‘Oh Stan, don’t say that.’ I heard her protest as she sat on the stool, and hit some keys.

‘OW!’ that hurt.

‘He wouldn’t have gone without saying goodbye,’ Stanley said; they hadn’t heard me.

‘Calm down, we’ll keep looking,’ Viola sniffed. ‘Honestly, Stan, I’ll help you, I want to help.’

‘It’s been horrible since we moved here,’ Stanley said. ‘Alfie is the only good thing about it.’

‘I miss our old house, too,’ Viola said.

‘Do you?’ he asked. I heard him sitting down and he bashed the keys.

‘OW!’

‘Yes, very much,’ Viola said. ‘Oh Stanley, I just want to be your friend.’

‘Really?’ Stanley sounded unsure.

‘Of course, I love it when we play games together. It’s so much fun.’

‘It is fun, isn’t it? Maybe we could do more, you know, like you could help with my adventures?’ Stanley sounded uncertain.

‘Yes, I’d really like that. Let’s start by looking for Alfie together.’ Viola sounded more cheerful.

‘OK, I’m really worried, Vi,’ Stanley added.

I took a deep breath and gave my loudest ‘YOWL!’, and quickly followed it up with another one.

‘What was that?’ Stanley asked.

‘I think it came from inside the piano,’ Viola replied. The piano lid slowly opened and I jumped out, straight into Viola’s arms.

‘Alfie, thank goodness!’ Stanley said. I purred my thanks as Stanley stroked me. ‘Thanks Vi,’ Stanley mumbled, and Viola smiled. See, I knew they could be friends. Viola moved towards Stanley and, still holding me, she hugged her brother.

Mr and Mrs Clover walked in.

‘Ah, there you are children. Is the piano all right, Viola?’

‘Perfect,’ she replied, giving Stanley a funny look. They both giggled.

I had done it; I had made them laugh, and they had made friends. I didn’t even have to learn how to play the piano after all.

As I approached my house, I found Tiger sitting under a bush in my front garden.

‘Hey,’ I said, feeling proud.

‘Why do you look like the cat who’s got the cream?’ Tiger asked. I licked my whiskers.

‘Yum, I wish I did have cream.’ Suddenly, I remembered I was quite hungry. ‘Well, if you must know, I have managed to solve all of the Clover children’s problems.’

‘Oh Alfie, here we go again,’ Tiger said, rolling onto her back. She could be a very negative cat.

‘No, honestly, it was genius. I knew I needed to get them to spend more time together and now they are going to. Alfie strikes again!’