Холли Вебб - A Cat Called Penguin

Grace smiled, a real smile, not the sort of horrible smirk he thought of her making. “Can I come to yours? Penguin would come and sit with us, wouldn’t he?”

Alfie stared at her. “Isn’t he at your house?”

Grace shook her head. “Not for ages. Days and days.”

Alfie frowned. He didn’t understand. Penguin was at Grace’s house, Alfie knew he was. Because he certainly wasn’t at Alfie’s. “I haven’t seen him since Saturday afternoon.” He dropped his voice to a whisper – it felt like some terrible secret. “I thought he’d gone back to yours! He has to be there…”

Grace looked worried. “He only ever stayed that one night. Then he popped in every so often. And then he had the last of the bag of cat treats, and I don’t think toast crusts were good enough. He gave me a sort of look when I offered him one.”

“He only likes them with Marmite on,” Alfie murmured. “But if he’s not at yours, where’s he gone?”

Grace was frowning. “He couldn’t have another house, could he?”

“I don’t think so.” Alfie looked doubtful. “Not unless he was only there when I was at school. He never went anywhere else until you turned up,” he added. All those thoughts about run-over cats he’d had when Penguin disappeared the previous weekend were flooding back. “What if he’s been hit by a car?” he muttered shakily, quite forgetting to blame Grace.

“Someone would have told you. He’s got a tag on his collar, hasn’t he?” Grace pointed out.

“I suppose.” Alfie nodded, suddenly grateful for the collar. “But – where is he then?”

“Maybe he’s got shut in somewhere. Look, I’ll ask my mum, she’s picking me up. We can go and look for him together.”

But when they dashed across the playground together, leaving Oliver standing gaping at the classroom door, only Alfie’s mum was there waving at them.

Grace slowed up, frowning and peering through the fence for her mum.

“Grace, your mum asked me to fetch you,” Alfie’s mum called quietly, and Grace slouched over to her, looking reluctant.

“Is something wrong?” she asked. She looked grumpy, but Alfie realized it was because she was frightened.

Alfie’s mum nibbled her bottom lip and nodded. “She was really sorry, Grace. She didn’t want you to be upset, but it was all a bit of a rush. Your gran’s not very well, you see.”

Grace glared at her. “I know that! She hasn’t been well for ages. That’s why we came.”

“Ye-es, but she’s had to go into hospital. It happened at lunch time,” Mum explained. “Your mum’s with her; that’s why she asked me to pick you up.”

“When will they be back?” Grace asked. Her water bottle rolled out of her fingers, and Alfie picked it up for her.

Alfie’s mum shook her head. “Your mum really wasn’t sure. She didn’t know exactly what was wrong with your gran, and she wants to stay at the hospital while they find out, you see.” She smiled at Grace. “We arranged that you can stay with us if she’s got to be there overnight.”

Grace took her water bottle back from Alfie. Her fingers felt cold when he touched them, by accident. “All right,” she whispered, even though Alfie didn’t think she had much choice.

Grace trailed along behind Alfie and his mum. Alfie kept glancing back at her, not sure what to say. He’d have been upset if it was either of his grandmas in hospital. Grace actually lived with her gran, so it must be even worse.

He hung back to walk next to her, and she slowed down to pigeon steps, and then reluctantly caught up with him. “What?” she muttered ungraciously.

“Um. You still want to go and look for Penguin?” he asked. He felt bad saying it, but Penguin was still missing, even if Grace’s gran was in hospital.

Grace sighed, a very tiny sigh, and nodded.

“OK. Um, don’t tell my mum? She’ll want to come with us, and I bet we can look better if we just sneak around – most of the gardens have got holes in the fences, like ours does. I’ve watched Penguin going off exploring.”

“From in my tree, I bet!” Grace’s eyes sparkled, but she seemed glad to be almost-cross. Alfie just shrugged and grinned at her. She elbowed him, and he elbowed her back, in a friendly sort of way.

“What shall we have for tea?” Alfie’s mum asked, looking back from the pushchair. Alfie jumped away from Grace and tried to look as though he hadn’t been pushing.

“Lasagne!” Grace suggested promptly. “Takes ages to make!” she whispered to Alfie, when he looked at her in surprise. “We want her busy, don’t we?”

“Er, really?” Alfie’s mum murmured, looking a little shocked. “Well, I was thinking more along the lines of sausages, but I suppose…”

Behind his mum’s back, Alfie beamed at Grace and flashed a sly thumbs up. She nodded regally. She was clearly a mistress of deception. Alfie was impressed.

Once they got home, Alfie and Grace disappeared into the garden, promising to be back in for tea.

“Is it OK if we climb over the fence into my garden too?” Grace asked very politely. “I’d like to show Alfie my den.”

“Well, as long as you’re careful,” Alfie’s mum agreed.

“Now if she can’t see us she’ll just think we’re in my garden,” Grace whispered conspiratorially as they headed down to the end of the garden. “And I didn’t tell her about the loose board, either. Where shall we look first? I’m sure he isn’t anywhere round my house, honestly.”

Alfie nodded. “He goes under our back fence sometimes. That’s the Morrises’ garden, and they’re not usually in until later. We could go and check there. Then there’s the little copse behind your garden that’s full of holes and stuff. And he likes the allotments on the corner. That’s a couple more gardens away, but if we were sneaky going along the back fences, I bet no one would see us.”

Grace nodded, not looking the slightest bit daunted by all this skulduggery. Alfie decided he almost liked her, even if she was a thieving cat-rustler.

He led her down to the back fence of his garden, helpfully hidden behind a screen of sweet pea poles, and pointed out the rather dank hole under the fence. It was definitely more cat-sized than Alfie-and-Grace-sized, but then Penguin was a large cat, and they were both reasonably skinny.

Grace eyed it doubtfully, and then looked him up and down. “You first.”

Alfie took a deep breath in and lay down, ready to squirm.

“Do you want me to push you?” Grace asked helpfully, squatting down by his middle.

“No!” Alfie retorted from the other side of the fence. “I can do it with my elbows. Ow, I’m through. Your turn!”

Grace wriggled daintily through the hole, the only casualty her bunches, which were decidedly uneven when she stood up with Alfie on the other side of the fence. She straightened them thoughtfully as they peered round the bush they’d emerged into and along the Morrises’ garden. “They’re definitely out?”

Alfie shrugged. “Neither of them gets home till about six.”

Grace smiled at him. “You really did spy out of that tree, didn’t you? Do you know what everybody does round here?”

Alfie ducked his head, flushing. “It’s good for spotting stuff, that’s all. I miss it,” he added in a mutter.

Grace nodded. “You can maybe borrow it sometimes. Should we call for Penguin, do you think? Or is here too close? Wouldn’t you have heard him meowing if he was stuck somewhere so near?”

Alfie crouched down and peered right under the bush. “I guess so. And they don’t have a shed for him to be shut in or anything like that. Penguin!” he called quietly just in case. “Penguin!”