The Kidnapped Kitten (3 page)

She was just trying out a clockwork mouse, when a poster hanging at the end of the aisle caught her eye. It was for the Cats Protection League, asking for donations to feed all the stray cats they took in. Tia looked at it thoughtfully. If her family had adopted a kitten from there, they would have made a donation…

She looked down at her basket and put back the feathery cat dancer and the catnip monkey. She could make a bunch of feathers, and Mum had lots of knitting wool. She would buy the mouse, but that was all. The rest of her money she dropped into the collection box at the till. The bag the lady gave her to take home was very light, but Tia didn’t mind.

Chapter Three

The kitten let out a despairing wail. She hated being shut up in the cat carrier. It was too small and it smelled funny, and she seemed to have been in it for ages. But then there was a clicking noise and the door swung open.

The girl was looking in at her now, the one who had stroked her and fussed over her. The kitten nosed forward
cautiously. The girl rubbed her ears gently, and the kitten stepped out of the carrier and climbed on to her lap, which was beautifully still after the car ride. Then she peered around worriedly. This wasn’t the place she knew, and there seemed to be an awful lot of people and movement and noise.

“She’s so quiet,” Tia said, as Dad crouched next to her and stroked the kitten.

“She’s just not sure what’s going on, poor little thing. She’ll probably go and explore in a minute.”

But the kitten didn’t. She didn’t go and try out the padded basket they’d bought, or drink from her smart new bowl, or chase after her clockwork mouse. When Tia had to get up and have dinner, the kitten darted off her lap and hid round the side of the cat
carrier. She didn’t want to go right back in it, but somehow it felt safe. She could have gone with the girl to the table, but there were too many people over there.
Safer to stay by the carrier
, she thought.

“I want her to play with me!” Christy wailed, pushing her plate away. “She sat on Tia for ages! Why won’t she play?”

“She will,” Mum promised. “She just needs to get used to us, Christy.”

“Anyway, we need to think about what to call her,” Dad pointed out.

Tia peered at the cat carrier. She could see white whiskers sticking out round the corner of it. The kitten was so pretty, she needed a pretty sort of name – like Rosie, or Coco – except that sounded too much like a poodle.

“What about Milly?” she suggested.
“She looks like a Milly, I think.”

“Milly…” Mum nodded. “I like it.”

After dinner, Tia crouched down by the carrier. She didn’t want to scare the kitten, she just wanted to show her that someone was there. The kitten peeped out at her every so often.

Tia had been sitting there for a good twenty minutes when Milly finally edged her way further out from behind the carrier. Tia held her breath. Would she come right out?

“Tia! Are you still there?” Mum asked, coming into the kitchen.

The kitten whisked back behind the carrier with a flick of her tail.

“It’s bedtime. Don’t worry, Milly will be fine. Dad and I will keep checking on her.”

Tia trailed upstairs reluctantly. It felt so mean to leave the little kitten all by herself. She lay in the dark listening to Christy breathing in the bottom bunk, too worried to sleep.

At least she thought she was. She woke suddenly from a dream that she couldn’t really remember, except that it hadn’t been good. She had been searching for something…

Tia sat up in bed. It was late. Mum and Dad had surely gone to bed – she
couldn’t hear their voices or the TV.

She could hear something, though. A sad, thin little wail. Yes, there it was again. The kitten!

Tia slid down her bunkbed ladder and padded as quietly as she could out on to the landing and down the stairs. She opened the kitchen door and whispered, “Puss puss… Milly… It’s so dark, I’ll have to put the light on. Don’t be surprised, all right?” She closed the door behind her and clicked on the light, blinking in the sudden glare. She’d expected to see the kitten dart back behind her carrier, or maybe she would be in her basket – but Tia couldn’t see her anywhere.

“Milly?” she murmured, turning
slowly in the middle of the room. “Where are you?”

She has to be here
, Tia told herself.
I heard her. She can’t have got out of the cat flap
. Dad had put the cat flap in, but they had kept it locked – Milly wouldn’t be allowed to go out until she’d had all her vaccinations. She was hiding, that was all.
Where would a kitten like to hide?
Tia wondered.

The oilcloth covering the kitchen table moved slightly, as though there was a draught – but all the windows were closed. Tia smiled and crouched down under the table. There, in the dim light under the cloth, a pair of blue-green eyes shone out at her. Milly was sitting on a stool, with the cloth tucked round her like a little tent.

“Hello,” Tia whispered.

The kitten stared back at her, and Tia settled herself against the leg of the table. “I’ll sit here,” she said sleepily. “Just to make sure you’re OK.”

She was half asleep when she felt little paws padding at her leg, and then Milly scrambled on to her lap and curled herself into a tiny ball.

“Tia! What are you doing under there?” Christy squeaked. “You weren’t in your bed – I came to find you!”

Tia blinked. The light was still on and the kitchen seemed very bright. “Is it morning?” she muttered.

“Yes! Did you sleep down here all night?”

“No… I came down in the middle sometime. Owww, I’m all stiff.” Tia tried to stretch out her legs without disturbing Milly, who was blinking at her owlishly.

Christy creeped under the table to join them and stroked Milly’s back, following the direction of the fur the way Tia had taught her. “I’m so glad she’s ours,” she said.

“I know,” Tia agreed. “I can’t wait
to tell Lucy all about her at school tomorrow.”

“Oh, hello, you two – you three, I mean.” Mum peered under the oilcloth. “Did you come down early to play with her?”

Tia gave Christy a look and nodded. It was better that Mum didn’t know she’d been downstairs half the night…

After that first night, Milly settled in quickly. She didn’t stay confined to the kitchen for long – she was far too nosy. She missed her old home and all her brothers and sisters, but now she had a whole house to explore. She explored it properly, too – every surface,
every shelf, every cupboard. She wasn’t big enough to climb the stairs at first, but whenever Tia and Christy were home, they were happy to carry her. And by the time she had been living with Tia’s family for a month, she was big enough to scramble up them by herself.

Milly’s favourite place was Tia and Christy’s room. It was full of toys to chase and boxes to wriggle in and out of. She was also fascinated by the ladder to Tia’s top bunk. Tia had carried her up there, but Milly wanted to be able to climb it on her own.

“What are you doing, kitten?” Tia said, laughing as she watched Milly from her desk. She was trying to do her homework, but Milly kept stealing her pencils and burying them under the bed.

Milly put her front paws on the first
step – the ladder had flat, wide rungs, and it was easy enough to jump on to one. She managed to jump from the first step to the second. But then she wobbled and slid, and had to make a flying leap down on to Christy’s bed instead. Then she went prowling off through the soft toys, pretending that was what she had meant to do all along.

Tia wished she could play with Milly, but she had to finish her homework first.

It wasn’t until Christy came upstairs and let out a piercing shriek that Tia realized what Milly had been doing. One of Christy’s favourite toys was a feathery owl that Dad had brought back for her from a work trip. It always sat propped up at the side of her bed because it was made up of lots of tiny feathers and it was a bit fragile.

“Owly! She’s eaten Owly!” Christy howled.

Milly sat in the middle of the bed, looking rather confused. Christy did burst out crying every so often, she’d got used to that now. But she was being very loud and she was stamping about. Milly spat out a mouthful of the interesting feathers and slunk to the end of the bed, making for Tia.

“Whatever’s the matter?” Mum said,
rushing in. “Oh my goodness. Christy, I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“He’s all eaten and ruined…” Christy sobbed.

“Tia, how on earth could you have let Milly do that?” Mum asked.

“I didn’t see! I was doing my homework. Sorry, Christy…” Tia picked Milly up, looking guiltily at her little sister. “Maybe we can glue the feathers back on.”

“You shouldn’t cuddle her,” Christy growled. “She’s a bad cat!”

“Oh no, she isn’t! She didn’t know.”