Cat Mummy (7 page)

I said I wasn’t very hungry, thank you. She did tease a bit then, shaking a snake right in my face and asking if I was frightened of
sweets
– but Aaron elbowed her out the way and asked if I was going to the swings after school. Laura told me her next-door neighbour had
heard
a cat mewing in the night and it might have been Mabel. Sophie said if Mabel didn’t ever come back maybe I’d like Sporty or Scary or Baby or Posh because her mum said they couldn’t keep all the kittens.

I thanked Aaron but said I didn’t really feel like a trip to the swings. I thanked Laura and said I didn’t think it could have been Mabel. I thanked Sophie and said I loved Sporty and Scary and Baby and Posh . . . but they could never ever replace my Mabel.

I thought about Mabel most of the morning. I got a lot of my sums wrong. But after dinner Miss Smith gave another lesson on the Ancient Egyptians, and I started to listen properly. She held up this rather scary-looking jackal mask and asked who wanted to try it on and be Anubis, the god of the dead. Moyra nearly wet herself she was so desperate to be chosen. Miss Smith let everyone take turns while she told us all about the Ancient Egyptians’ beliefs about death.

They were sure the spirit left the body but might come back to it later on. That’s why they thought it very important to preserve the bodies. They needed to be kept in spic and span condition in case the spirit paid a visit.

I felt relieved that I had done my very best for Mabel. I decided to leave the wardrobe door ajar so that Mabel’s spirit could waft out and go for a walk round all her old haunts whenever she felt like it.

‘Can you see the spirit, Miss Smith?’ I asked.

‘Well, the Ancient Egyptians painted pictures of the spirits of the dead, and they always drew them like big birds.’

I blinked at the idea, trying to imagine Mabel with wings. She’d look a little odd but I knew she’d enjoy being able to fly. She could swoop straight out the house and up over the rooftops and save her poor old paws. She could have such fun chasing all the sparrows and perch in the tallest tree and never ever get stuck.

Miss Smith showed us all a picture of Anubis weighing a heart on the scale to see if it balanced with the feather of truth so that the mummy could be made immortal.

‘So the mummies live for ever and ever and you can be together in the afterlife?’ I said, imagining Mabel and me flying hand in paw for ever.

Miss Smith was looking at me worriedly.

‘It’s just what the Ancient Egyptians believed, Verity,’ she said gently.

‘But we can believe it too,’ I said.

‘Well . . .’ said Miss Smith uncertainly.

‘
I
believe it,’ said Moyra. ‘I love the Ancient Egyptians. Show us those snaky demons in that Dead Book, Miss Smith. They’re brilliant!’

Miss Smith started to tell everyone about the serpent demons and the crocodile monsters. Everyone got very excited. I didn’t join in. I thought about Mabel instead.

I decided I needed to fill her wardrobe tomb with some special toys and a tin or two of Whiskas. She once had her own catnip mouse but it had got lost somewhere. I didn’t have any other sort of mice, apart from Minnie, and she was much too big.

At the end of lessons Miss Smith called me back.

‘Verity? Can I have a little word?’

I thought she was going to tell me off for not paying attention. I got flustered and forgot about the broken zip on my school bag. Everything fell out with a thump and a clatter as I made my way up to Miss Smith’s desk.

‘Oh dear,’ said Miss Smith. She helped me collect up my stuff. ‘It’s not your day today, is it, Verity?’

‘No, Miss Smith.’

‘Verity . . . you seem rather unhappy at the moment,’ Miss Smith said gently.

I hung my head.

‘And you’re obviously not sleeping very well.’

‘I’m sorry, Miss Smith.’

‘It’s not your fault, poppet. I’m not telling you off. I just want to try to help.’ She paused. ‘I know things must be very sad at home at the moment.’

I looked up. Someone must have told her about Mabel.

‘Perhaps . . . perhaps you could try talking about your mum with your dad? Or maybe your gran?’

I blinked at Miss Smith, wondering why she’d suddenly switched to talking about my
mum
?

‘I can’t talk about my mum,’ I said. My throat went tight because the only person I could ever talk to about Mum was Mabel.

‘Can I go now, Miss Smith?’ I whispered. I didn’t want to burst into tears in front of her.

I ran off quickly before she said yes. I
thought
I heard her calling me, but I didn’t stop.

Gran was waiting at the gate, looking anxious.

‘Where have you been, Verity? Aaron and the others came out ten minutes ago. Did Miss Smith keep you in?’

‘Oh, she just wanted to talk to me for a bit,’ I said, hurrying along beside Gran. ‘Can I have an ice-cream?’

‘No, dear. And don’t try to change the subject! What did she want to talk to you about?’

‘Oh . . . nothing.’

Gran sighed.

‘Are you in any trouble?’

‘No, Gran.’

‘Verity? Are you telling me the truth?’

I managed to look Gran straight in the eye. ‘Yes, Gran.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

Mabel the Mummy

I TRY VERY
hard to tell the truth. That’s what my name Verity means. You look it up. It’s Latin for truth.

I can be as naughty as the next person but I try not to tell lies. However . . . it was getting harder and harder with this Mabel-mummy situation. I hadn’t been
completely
truthful about the missing bath salts, or my duffle bag, or my conversation with Miss Smith. But I hadn’t told any actual downright lies. Yet.

As soon as I got home I went charging up
to
my bedroom to have a private word with Mabel. I shut my bedroom door and put a chair against it just in case. Then I opened my wardrobe.

I wished I hadn’t.

The smell was a lot worse. The bath salts weren’t doing their work. Mabel smelt as if she was in dreadful distress and needed cleaning up. I felt I should ease her out of the duffle bag and attend to her, but when I undid the drawstring at the top the smell was
suddenly
so overpowering that I reeled backwards. I shoved Mabel in her bag to the very back of the wardrobe and closed the door quick.

I sat on my heels wondering what on earth to do. I wondered and wondered and wondered.

‘What are you up to, Verity?’ Gran called. ‘Are you having another nap?’

‘No, Gran. Coming!’ I said hastily and shot downstairs.

I didn’t want to risk her coming up to my bedroom when the smell had seeped so strongly out of the wardrobe. The smell seemed to have stuck to me too because Gran wrinkled her nose when I went into the kitchen.

‘Whatever’s that awful smell, darling?’

‘What smell, Gran?’ I said, trying to look as wide-eyed and innocent as possible.

‘Verity . . .?’ Gran paused, looking embarrassed. ‘You haven’t had a little accident, have you?’

‘No, Gran!’ I said indignantly.

Gran was still looking at me very strangely.

‘I think you’d better pop off and have a bath anyway, dear – and change your dress too.’ Gran paused. ‘I’ve bought some new bath salts but please be very careful with them this time. Only tip a little into your bath.’