Rachel Wells - A Friend Called Alfie

‘I can’t live in this box forever,’ Pickles said, sadly, and I redoubled my efforts, but it really wasn’t budging. Thankfully I heard the door open and in walked Claire. I sat up and looked at her, my eyes full of guilt.

‘What on earth?’ Claire pulled the box off Pickles and picked him up. He was covered in cereal.

‘Meow,’ I said, it wasn’t my fault.

‘Oh goodness, I better clean this mess up. I guess puppies can be hard to look after,’ Claire said, gently, holding Pickles in one arm and petting me with the other, to show she wasn’t angry.

‘Meow,’ I agreed, relieved.

‘Right, well, Pickles, stay in there, while I get this cleared up.’ She brushed the cereal from his fur and set him down in his bed. I went over to him.

‘Not the best hiding place after all, then, Pickles,’ I said.

‘Oh, I wasn’t hiding. I was going to find somewhere to hide then I spotted the cereal box on the floor.’ Why was it on the floor? I wondered. One of the children I guessed.

‘So, what were you doing?’

‘I wanted to have a snack, so I got the box on its side and then I went in to get my snack, and I somehow got stuck.’

Of course he did.

‘But it was quite delicious,’ he finished. ‘But next time I’ll have to find an easier way to get it.’

Claire took Pickles with her while she cleaned the house, saying it was the only way she could keep him out of trouble. I wasn’t sorry, as I went out and bumped into George who was coming from Hana’s house.

‘Hi, son,’ I said, happy to see him. ‘What have you been up to?’ As if I didn’t know.

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