Mystery for Megan (5 page)

‘But where did she come from?’ asked Megan.

‘I’ve no idea,’ said Granny. ‘She was just always there. I used to think she was looking after me. In fact, I named her Dorothy. I don’t think she had a name until
then.’

Megan pulled a funny face. She didn’t mean to be rude but she just couldn’t understand how a cat could be so old and she had no idea how a cat could look after a person!

‘Then, when I was about fifteen, she disappeared,’ said Granny. ‘The mice disappeared too. But this is the really mysterious thing – they all appeared again the day you
moved into Buttercup House, Megan.’

Megan stared at Granny. It didn’t make any sense at all.

‘I know, I don’t understand it either,’ said Granny, ‘but they are back. Yesterday, a piece of my shortbread went missing. I’m sure it was Dorothy who took
it.’

Megan laughed. ‘What if it’s not the same cat though?’ she asked, the thought suddenly striking her that it could be a different black cat.

‘Well, Freya said that she had a gold ring, like a sun, around her right eye, and a white front paw,’ said Granny.

‘She has,’ said Freya, nodding.

‘So it must be Dorothy,’ said Granny, ‘because she had those exact markings.’

Megan tried to understand, but she was finding it all very strange.

‘Some things are hard to believe,’ Granny said, ‘but it doesn’t mean they’re not true.’

Megan thought this made sense and nodded.

‘Tell her about Buttercup,’ Freya said excitedly.

‘Oh Buttercup!’ said Granny, a big smile lighting up her face. ‘I haven’t seen Buttercup for years either. In fact, he disappeared the same time as Dorothy and the mice
and I haven’t seen him since. Maybe he’ll come back too. Whenever he used to be around, the buttercups would come up. So keep your eyes open for them.’ She gave the girls a wink.
‘I wouldn’t tell anyone any of this though. Keep it in the box.’

‘I shan’t tell anyone,’ Megan whispered.

‘Oh, and by the way, I don’t think grown-ups can see any of the animals,’ said Granny.

‘Really?’ said Megan. ‘Can’t you see them?’

‘Not any more,’ said Granny. ‘Freya has seen the mice and Dorothy since you moved in, Megan, but I haven’t seen a single whisker.’

‘Tell her the other bit, Granny,’ pleaded Freya. ‘Tell her about Dorothy keeping you company.’

‘I would have been about seven,’ Granny said to the girls. ‘I was feeling upset because I’d been told off for something or other and had been sent to my room. Dorothy
came to find me. She’d never been inside the house before, but she came up, found my room, and she jumped on to the bed with me. She lay right next to me until I was allowed to go downstairs
again.’

‘But how did she know where you were?’ Megan asked, her eyes wide open.

‘I don’t know,’ said Granny. ‘She just knew. There’s something quite mysterious about Dorothy. She did things like that a lot after that day.’

‘Like when she sat with you at the picnic?’ asked Freya.

‘Yes, that’s it,’ said Granny. ‘And sometimes she’d let me know if there were any hidden dangers, things that a child wouldn’t notice. She always appeared at
exactly the right moments. I didn’t tell anyone though, and it’s probably best that you don’t either.’

‘What I still don’t understand,’ said Megan, feeling more puzzled than ever, ‘is why she’s come back now, and why the mice are back too.’

‘I don’t know,’ said Granny, ‘unless . . .Oh no, that’s just silly.’

‘What’s silly?’ asked Freya.

‘Well, maybe it has something to do with whether a child is living in Buttercup House,’ said Granny.

‘How do you mean?’ asked Megan, her eyes getting even wider.

‘I’m not sure,’ said Granny. ‘The animals disappeared once I started growing up. Then, I left home when I met Grandpa. My mum and dad carried on living there for many
years, then another couple lived there some time after, but there were no children, just a grandson who used to visit. That’s who the treehouse was made for. Then the house was empty for a
while before you moved in, Megan. Now you’re here, Dorothy and the mice seem to have come back.’

Suddenly, Freya put her hand to her mouth. ‘I’ve just thought of something,’ said Freya. ‘Do you think Dorothy might know if we’re lonely too and tell us things,
like when there are hidden dangers?’

‘She might,’ said Granny, smiling. ‘I guess you’ll have to wait and see.’

The girls looked at each other. Megan suddenly felt butterflies doing backflips in her tummy.

‘Talking of Dorothy,’ said Granny, ‘I ought to put some shortbread aside for her – she seems to have taken a fancy to it. I hope you’ve left some.’

‘Oops!’ said Freya. ‘I think we might have eaten it all.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Granny said, laughing. ‘Why don’t we make some more, especially for Dorothy, and we can make a batch for the shop too.’

‘Ooh, yes please!’ said Freya.

They walked back up to the house together, the two girls each holding one of Granny’s hands, while Granny told them the best way to make shortbread, and then they spent the rest of the
evening getting buttery and floury and messy.

Well,
thought Megan later, as she lay in bed.
I never thought I’d end up baking shortbread for a mysterious cat!

The next day at school, Megan’s teacher, Miss Roberts, asked them all to write a story.

‘I want your story to have a character that’s
really
interesting,’ she said.

Megan thought about Dorothy and Buttercup. They were the most interesting characters she could think of.
I know,
thought Megan.
I’ll make up a story about Dorothy and draw a
picture too.

Megan pulled out her special notebook with the gold cover. She turned to the first page and drew a picture of Dorothy. She even drew the gold ring around her eye and her little white front paw
that Granny and Freya had talked about. Then she wrote her story.

Miss Roberts had said they should use some describing words. Megan was especially pleased with
black as soot
.

‘What did you write about?’ Megan asked Freya at lunchtime.

‘I made up a creature called a Pungle,’ said Freya.

Megan laughed. ‘A Pungle!’ she squealed. ‘That’s the funniest name I ever heard.’

‘It’s a Pungle with a very long nose,’ said Freya, laughing too. ‘And very long toes so it has to wear sandals all the time.’

‘What did you write about?’ Freya asked Megan, once they’d stopped laughing.

Megan looked around before she spoke, then realised that she was getting to be just like Freya and Granny!

‘I wrote about a mysterious cat,’ she said, nudging Freya under the table.

‘Oh, how imaginative,’ said Freya, laughing.

‘Well, not everyone can invent a big-nosed big-toed Pungle, can they?’ said Megan.

‘I suppose not,’ said Freya.

‘Anyway,’ said Megan. ‘This cat bounces.’

‘Why?’ asked Freya, curiously.

‘I have no idea,’ said Megan, bursting out laughing again.

Megan and Freya both had spellings to do for homework and they both moaned and groaned about it. Then Megan had an idea.

‘Let’s do them in the treehouse,’ she suggested. ‘We can help each other out.’

‘That’s a great idea,’ said Freya, who wasn’t too keen on spellings. So they arranged to meet later by the fence.

When Megan got home, she changed out of her uniform into her jeans, had macaroni cheese – her favourite – for dinner, then she grabbed her spelling book and went to
meet Freya at the end of the fence. Freya arrived just as Megan did and squeezed through the gap in the fence.

‘Dorothy’s down there, look,’ Freya said excitedly, spotting Dorothy near the stream.

‘I wonder if we’ll see Buttercup too,’ said Megan. ‘I wish Dorothy would come closer so I could see her properly. I want to see the gold ring around her eye.’

The girls went to the treehouse and worked really hard on their spellings. Megan tested Freya, and Freya tested Megan. Freya kept getting
Europe
wrong and forgetting the second
e
.

‘Just remember it’s got a rope on the end,’ said Megan. ‘Like our treehouse.’

‘Oh yes!’ said Freya, and the next time she got it right.

Suddenly, Freya looked up. She was staring out of the window towards the trees.

‘Megan. It’s him,’ she said, in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

Megan followed Freya’s eyes. Out beyond the trees she saw the most beautiful golden dog.

‘Oh my goodness!’ said Megan. ‘Is that really him? Is that really Buttercup?’

‘It must be,’ said Freya. Then she looked at Megan. ‘What if Granny’s right? What if he’s come back because you’re living at Buttercup House?’

Megan stared at Freya. She just couldn’t believe that the animals coming back had anything to do with her.

The girls both watched Buttercup as he watched them through the trees. Somehow, having him there made them both feel incredibly happy, as if he was looking after them. Then he turned and padded
away.

‘The buttercups,’ Freya said suddenly. ‘There should be buttercups.’

The girls peeped through the door, and all around the bottom of the tree were lots and lots of bright yellow buttercups! It was just like Granny had told them.