Энн Файн: The Killer Cat's Christmas

Personally, looking back, I think the white frills probably suited me, and I looked nice in them. I rather wish they’d had the time to take a proper photo of their dear Tuffy as the new fairy at the top of the tree. I would have liked to show it to my friends.

But Ellie’s dad was right. The tree was not just bare at the bottom; it was overloaded at the top.

Too overloaded.

What they call ‘top heavy’.

It started toppling. It was far worse than being in the welly boot because I was much higher. It was like being in the crow’s nest of some ancient galleon when it keels over in a storm.

It took a long time for the tree to fall. They were all fussing and yelling. ‘Step back!’

‘The tree is crashing down!’

‘Watch out!’

‘Look at this mess!’

‘Our lovely well! Totally squashed!’

‘There’s not a single decoration left! Smashed! Every last one of them!’

‘I’m bruised all over.’

‘Where is that damn cat?’

Well, I was on the floor, of course. Pretty well splatted flat, still trying to be the Christmas fairy. It was the ears that gave me away. Christmas-tree fairies don’t have pointy little furry ears like mine.

So that explains how I ended up spending the rest of that day, and the next, locked in the garage. Ellie was only allowed to have me in her bedroom overnight, and then I was put back in here until the visitors go this afternoon and Christmas is over.

I don’t mind. In fact, I think I’ve come out of this spat with her father quite well. After all, when you consider that Mr Let’s-Take-Tuffy-Down-The-Vet’s is stuck behind in the house, still picking bits of Christmas decoration out of the carpet, and doing all the washing up, I think I’ve got it easy. Popped hoppers are quite comfortable to laze around on. And now that moth’s come back, I even have someone to play with. Certainly it’s been a whole lot better than being in the house.

But, still, I won’t be counting the days till 25th December comes round again. Remember that question you asked me at the start? ‘Dear, dear Tuffy, why was your Christmas so horrible?’

Well, you won’t have to ask again, will you?

Because now you know.