Misty the Abandoned Kitten (2 page)

“Come out into the garden!” Amy’s dad held open the back door, an excited expression on his face.

“The present is outside?” Amy asked doubtfully. Why would a kitten be outside? She stepped out, and looked round at her parents, who were beaming at her.

“Look at the tree!” Dad pointed up at the big chestnut tree at the end of the garden.

“Oh! A tree house!” Amy said, sounding rather surprised.

“Don’t you like it?” Her dad’s voice was suddenly anxious.

“Yes, I do, I love it.” Amy hugged him. It was true – she had always wanted a little private hideaway of her own. It was just that it wasn’t a kitten…

“Why don’t you go and explore?” said Mum.

Amy ran down the garden and climbed the wooden ladder that her dad had fastened on to the tree trunk.

The tree house smelled lovely, of new wood. Amy looked round it delightedly. There was a big purple beanbag to sit on, and on a tiny wooden table by the square window was a birthday cake, with pink icing.

Amy leaned out of the door, and smiled down at her parents. “It’s a brilliant present. Thank you!”

“We’ll cut the cake in about half an hour, OK?” said Mum, smiling.

Amy sat down on the beanbag, and sighed. She loved the tree house – but at the same time, she was secretly a little disappointed. “I should have known it wouldn’t be a kitten,” she whispered to herself. “It was just that I was really hoping…”

Chapter Two

On Saturday it was Amy’s birthday party. She and Lily and a couple of other friends from school were going to the cinema, and then to her favourite café for tea. She was really looking forward to it – but every so often something would remind her about kittens and she’d feel sad again.

“I can never decide whether to have sweet or salty popcorn,” said Lily, as she and Amy walked over to the food counter. “Or do you want to share some pick ’n’ mix instead? Amy…?” She turned to her friend. “Are you OK? You seem a bit quiet,” she whispered. “Is it about your present?”

Amy nodded. “My tree house is really cool. I can’t wait for you to see it.” She sighed. “Maybe they’ll change their minds about me getting a cat in time for my next birthday.”

Lily gave her a hug. “You can come and borrow Stella any time.”

Amy smiled at her gratefully, but it wasn’t the same as a kitten of her own.

Mrs Jones’s daughter, Sarah, had promised her that Charlie would be fine with having another cat in the house. She was really worried about her mum, who’d had a couple of bad falls, and she wanted to be able to look after her. And that meant her kitten, too. But Sarah just hadn’t realized how jealous Charlie would be.

“Come on! Auntie Grace says she’s made a cake!” The children were struggling into their coats, and Sarah was trying to hurry everyone up. It was Sunday, and all the family were going over to visit Mrs Jones’s other daughter.

Jet heard the front door bang, Mrs Jones’s stick tapping as she went down the front step and then the noise of the children growing fainter as they
walked down the path. They were all going out! Jet shivered. She was hiding under a bookshelf in the living room. It was very low to the ground and she’d discovered that Charlie couldn’t chase her under there, as he was too big. It wasn’t a very nice place to stay – it was dusty and she had to lie flat to fit – but at least it was safe.

Now that she was allowed out of the living room and into the rest of the house, Jet spent almost the whole time hiding from Charlie. He kept pouncing on her, and he was a lot bigger than she was. They had been sharing the house properly for almost a week now, and he hadn’t got any better. He kept stealing her food, too, so she was hungry all the time. But he was
sneaky enough only to do it when no one was looking. If the family were there he would just glare at her until she felt too scared to eat and slunk away from her bowl.

Jet couldn’t see him now, though. Perhaps he’d gone out of the cat flap into the garden? Nervously, she edged only her whiskers out of her hiding place and waited. She risked a paw out, then another, then squirmed forwards, her heart racing. No, he wasn’t there. She was safe.

She was terribly hungry, though. Charlie had chased her away from her breakfast that morning, and she really wanted to go to the kitchen and see if he’d left anything. With her whiskers trembling and her tail fluffed up, the
kitten crept out into the hallway, and dashed to the kitchen door, where she did another careful search. She couldn’t see him anywhere. And there was some food left! Gratefully, she scampered over to her bowl, and started to gulp down the cat biscuits.

Behind her, on one of the kitchen chairs, hidden by the plastic tablecloth, a long chocolate-brown tail began to twitch slowly back and forth.

Jet was so absorbed in wolfing what was left of her breakfast that she didn’t hear the thud as Charlie’s paws hit the floor. But some sense of danger made her whiskers prickle, and she turned round just as he flung himself at her. She shot away, scooting across the kitchen floor and making a dive for the cat flap. She batted at it desperately with her nose and scrambled through, racing across the garden to hide under a bush.

Huddled against the damp leaves, she watched the cat flap swing a couple of times. Charlie wasn’t following her. Probably because he was eating the rest of her breakfast, Jet thought miserably.

What should she do? She hadn’t explored the garden much until now –
she’d always stayed close to Mrs Jones, or hidden herself somewhere in the house. Jet poked her nose out from under the bush, sniffing the crisp morning air. It was chilly – too chilly to sit still. But she didn’t want to go back inside, not with Charlie about. Instead, she set off down the garden, sniffing at the bird seed that had fallen out of the bird feeders, and cautiously inspecting the scooters and toys that the children had left lying around.

Nervously, she checked behind her, to make sure Charlie hadn’t sneaked through the cat flap. Just then, a fat blackbird swooped past her nose, and she pricked up her ears in astonishment. She wasn’t really used to being in the garden, and birds were new and exciting.
She swished through the long grass, almost glad now that Charlie had chased her outside. The blackbird swooped and dived in and out of the plants by the fence, and the kitten trotted after it. Then it disappeared.

Surprised, she looked around, trying to work out where it had gone. That was when she noticed the hole. There was a big gap under the fence, leading into the next-door garden. This would be a perfect way to get away from Charlie. She had been looking back every so often, to check that he wasn’t following, but if she went into a different garden, he would never find her! Pleased with her plan, the kitten slipped underneath the fence, and set off to explore.

Early that Sunday morning, Amy disappeared up into her tree house, taking the book she had to read for school. It was a chilly morning for April, so she was wearing her new hoodie from Gran, and a pink fluffy scarf and hat. But even though it was cold, being up in the tree house felt wonderful.

It wasn’t really all that high up, but it was such fun looking down on the gardens from her hideaway amongst the leaves. The chestnut tree was right at the end of their long, thin garden, but she could just see Mum moving around in the kitchen. Amy moved the beanbag so that it was in the doorway and flumped down on it, watching a
blackbird hopping around in
next-door’s
flower bed. There was an early morning mist hanging over the grass, and it felt quite spooky – just right for her book, which was a ghost story.

Amy read a few pages. She was just getting to a scary bit when a strange rustling noise outside made her jump. A little movement by the garden fence caught her eye, and Amy peered down. It was a little black kitten! She was half-wreathed in mist, and for a second Amy wondered if this was a ghost-cat. She caught her breath in excitement, watching as the tiny thing nosed her way through the plants and spotted the blackbird, who was still pecking about in the grass on the other side of the garden.

The kitten settled into a hunting crouch, her tail whisking from side to side, and wriggled forwards on to the lawn. Amy giggled. This was no ghost! The kitten was so funny, stalking across the grass like a tiny panther. The bird spotted her at once, hopping up on to the fence and squawking crossly.

The kitten turned away and began to play with a leaf instead, as though she’d never even thought of chasing the bird.

Amy was just wondering whether, if she climbed down quietly, the kitten would let her stroke it, when the little creature suddenly darted back the way she’d come – under the fence and into the mists of next-door’s garden.

Amy watched the shadowy little figure disappear. “I wonder who she belongs to?” she whispered to herself. “And what her name is. If I could get close enough, I could look on her collar, maybe.” Then she frowned. “No, I don’t think she had one. I think I’d call her Misty.” She put her chin in her hands, and imagined a little black kitten curled up on the end of her bed. “I can’t wait to tell Lily about her!”