Холли Вебб: A Cat Called Penguin

“Good! You run away! And stay out of my garden!” the girl yelled after him.

Her garden now, he noticed. Not even her gran’s.

But really, the only thing that mattered was that it wasn’t Alfie’s any more.

“This is Grace, everyone. She’s just moved here, and she’ll be joining our class.”

She stood up at the front of the classroom next to Mrs Cartwright, the long blonde hair now pulled back in two neat bunches. They made her look like a dog with long ears.

Alfie huddled down in his seat, hoping to avoid her eye. His leg still hurt, and he’d had to tell Mum he slipped on the path. But Mrs Cartwright was looking straight at him and smiling. “Alfie, I think Grace is living very close to you, isn’t she?”

Alfie nodded reluctantly. He couldn’t really do anything else.

“Lovely. Well, we’ll put Grace on your table, and you and Oliver and Asha and Sammie can look after her for the minute.” Mrs Cartwright ushered Grace towards Alfie’s table – why did they have to have an empty chair? Then she turned back to the whiteboard and started talking about their Romans topic again.

Grace stared at Alfie. Her eyes were bluish-green, he noticed, now that he wasn’t staring up into the sunlight.

“Hello, Alfie…” she said, her voice rather nastily sweet.

“Is that her?” Oliver muttered. “From next door?” Alfie hadn’t told him about the meeting in the tree – he was too embarrassed.

Alfie nodded. “You want that book for making your story plan in,” he muttered to Grace. “The blue one.” He’d only get into trouble with Mrs Cartwright if he didn’t look after her properly, however much he felt like directing her into the boys’ toilets.

She was staring at him as he turned back to the board again. Her eyes looked like the pieces of sea glass he’d picked up on the beach on their summer holiday. Hard and greenish and shiny. Worn away by years of water, but still bright. He had the pieces lined up on his window sill. He’d move them when he got home, he decided.

Luckily, she went off with Asha and Sammie at lunch time, and he didn’t have to do anything about her. At the end of the day, he came out of school heaving a sigh that seemed to leave all of him feeling lighter. He’d stay in the house this afternoon, he decided. Even if it was still tropical-hot.

His mum waved at him from the playground. She was standing next to a woman with short, spiky blonde hair and familiar bluish-green eyes. The woman was cuddling Jess.

Alfie slowed right down. Mum had gone and made friends with Grace’s mother.

How could she? It was treachery. But he supposed she didn’t know.

His mum was smiling as he trailed towards them. “Look, Alfie – this is Lucy, from next door.”

Alfie tried to smile, but it came out more like a wolf baring its teeth. Grace’s mother looked slightly surprised, but she still smiled back. “Hi, Alfie. It’s nice to meet you. Was Grace OK today?”

He nodded. “Um, yeah. She’s made friends with Asha in our class. Asha’s nice.”

“I’ve asked Lucy to bring Grace back to ours for tea,” Mum said, smiling brightly, in that way she had that suggested Alfie needed to sort his manners out.

Grace came walking across the playground towards them. Alfie thought she hesitated as she spotted him, but then she pasted on a smile. “Hi, Mrs Seton.”

Alfie blinked. She’d met his mum already then. It seemed as though she hadn’t said anything to her about the tree – or was she about to now?

Grace gave her mum a hug, and her mum explained about tea at Alfie’s. Grace nodded, and stuck her tongue out at Alfie when no one else was looking.

Alfie made a low growling noise, and then tried to look as though it was his stomach rumbling when his mum turned round and glared at him. He shrugged and looked innocently at her, but he could see she wasn’t convinced.

Back home, Alfie put the TV on. He wasn’t really supposed to watch it straight after school, but he reckoned with guests around Mum wouldn’t make a fuss. He and Grace sat at opposite ends of the sofa, not talking, and pretending to watch the programme. He could hear Mum chatting to Lucy in the kitchen, just the odd word here and there. They sounded like old friends.

Grace was listening too. She scowled as she heard her mother laugh loudly at something Alfie’s mum had said. “I should make you pay for that apple you stole.”

Alfie gaped at her. “What?”

“A pound.”

“Apples don’t cost that much!” Alfie protested, realizing, too late, that he should have said he wouldn’t pay anything at all.

“Stolen ones do.”

“Oh, shut up,” Alfie snapped. It wasn’t a very clever answer, but he couldn’t think of anything better right now. Besides, she was just so annoying!

“Don’t tell me to shut up! I bet your mum doesn’t know you were in my garden.” Grace swung her bunches, smiling a superior smile.

“Yes, she does,” Alfie growled. But he’d gone scarlet, he knew it. He was a terrible liar. The tree was the only thing he’d ever been able to get away with, because Mum and Dad had never asked him about it.

He wished Penguin was there for him to stroke. He was probably asleep on Alfie’s bed.

“Alfie! Grace! Come and have some tea!”

Alfie stood up, racing for the door and nearly crashing into Grace on the way. They wrestled in the doorway for a minute, hissing insults, and Grace shot out towards the kitchen. Alfie followed her, glowering.

He could hear a series of light thumps on the stairs – Penguin coming down them with his funny lolloping jump. He’d heard Alfie’s mum calling too, and he knew what tea meant. Alfie’s frown faded, and he crouched down to stroke Penguin under the chin. The big cat purred hungrily, peering past him to the kitchen.

Feeling better now he had his sidekick, Alfie strolled into the kitchen. Mum had done pizza for tea, which was one of his favourites. He slid into a seat as far from Grace as possible, and Penguin took up his station by Alfie’s feet.

“Could you pour Grace some juice, Alfie?” Mum asked. She was giving him a look again. Alfie nodded, resisting the temptation to pour it all over Grace’s school dress.

Penguin’s face appeared at the side of his chair, looking hopeful. He specialized in a pitiful round-eyed stare that made him look as if he was starving to death, and he knew Alfie found it hard to resist.

Alfie sneaked a scrap of ham off his pizza and held it under the table, trying not to laugh as Penguin’s rough tongue scraped his fingers eagerly.

The problem with feeding Penguin at the table was that when Alfie did it once, it only made the cat beg for more. Insistent paws kept patting Alfie’s leg, and every so often Penguin would press his chilly little nose into the hollow of Alfie’s knee, making him wriggle as he tried not to laugh.

Mum and Lucy were too busy chatting to notice, and Jess was carefully shredding a piece of pizza into crumbs, but Grace was watching him, Alfie realized. He stared back at her coldly, and she dropped a bit of garlic bread on purpose, so she could peer under the table.

She came face to face with Penguin, and gasped. “You’ve got a cat!”

“Genius!” Alfie muttered under his breath. Then he added, “He’s called Penguin,” to earn himself some brownie points with Mum.

Mum smiled at her. “Yes, he was a stray. He arrived on our doorstep a couple of years ago. He’s lovely, but he’s a bit overweight, so try not to drop anything – he’ll be there in seconds!”

Grace nodded solemnly, pretending not to know that Penguin was hoovering up her dropped garlic bread that very minute.