I felt even more uneasy. Glancing guiltily towards the litter gathered under the holly bush, I couldn’t help muttering, ‘Dear me. Oh, dear me. Oh, dear.’
‘I expect the raffle ticket’s been lost,’ said Pusskins. ‘Those things are very light and small. It must be terribly easy for everyone in the household to forget where they put it.’
I found myself staring at a cloud sailing over my head, and saying nothing.
Everyone round me sighed.
‘We’d all have a better life if your family had a new car,’ said Bella. ‘They would go off on more day trips. Leave us to ourselves a bit.’
We all fell silent, thinking of the good times we used to have racing around the living room, ripping up the cushions and scaring the goldfish silly.
‘Oh, all right !’I said.
Take it from me, it is no joke, sticking your head in a holly bush. I had to stretch really far to find a note that wasn’t badly ripped. Bella’s a tubby tabby, so she helped me roll it flat. (We quite enjoyed that idle hour on the warm flagstones.)
And then I slid it under the back door.
It was Ellie’s mother who picked it up, of course. ‘George! George! We’ve won a car! In a raffle! All that we have to do is find the ticket you bought from Gregory’s dad, and the car will be ours!’ She rushed towards him. ‘So where did you put it to keep it safe?’
She skidded to a halt. ‘George?’ she said. ‘George? You do remember where you put it, don’t you?’
Ellie and I turned round to look at him.
He had gone green.
9: ‘Run, Daddy! Run!’
OF COURSE, THE POOR sap hadn’t got a clue. I watched them turn the house upside down, up-ending sofas, peering under rugs, sticking their noses into old envelopes.
By the time the clock ticked round to a quarter to six, they were quite desperate.
‘It must be somewhere !’
‘Where did you put it? Try to remember!’
He clutched his hair and wailed, ‘I don’t know! All I can recall is coming back into this room with the raffle ticket in my hand.’
I tried to give them a hint. I kept on strolling up and down along the shelf, and giving little purrs. But they had no time to pay attention to me.
So, in the end, with only five minutes to go before the deadline, I had to do what he’d been trying to get me to do for several weeks.
I didn’t choose to do it, you understand. It was an Unselfish Act, purely for the Good of the Community. Left to myself, I would have happily broken my own front left leg rather than please him by damaging that last ugly pot.
But needs must when the devil drives. I stuck out my paw and pushed the thing firmly off the end of the shelf.
I won’t say it smashed. Fat chance. This pot was such an ill-made lump, it simply fell apart in mid-air.
Out tumbled, first, one fresh prawn, then one small raffle ticket.
The bits of pot hit the carpet. Blop! Blop! Blop!
‘What on earth is that prawn doing there?’ said Ellie’s mother.
He didn’t take the time to blush. He simply snatched up the raffle ticket and made for the door.
‘Run, Daddy! Run!’ cried Ellie.
10: A moral victory and a good result
THE GANG TOLD me all about it afterwards.
‘Didn’t go round by the pavement. Simply jumped over the fence.’
‘Amazing! No doubt about it, it was an Olympic-standard leap.’
‘He practically bust his truss doing it.’
I was sorry to have missed the show. But I was too busy being cuddled and praised by sweet little Ellie. ‘Oh, Tuffy! You’re the cleverest, most wonderful cat in the whole wide world. You found the ticket! Just in time. And now we’re going to have a brand-new car. I love you, Tuffy. I love you. You’re a sweetie, peetie, weetie –’
Okay, okay! Enough! I can’t take too much of the soppy stuff. I shook her off and I went out. I wanted to be alone. I had a thing or two to think about up on my wall. After all, I’d had to make a giant sacrifice. I’d had to do what Ellie’s father wanted all along, and break the pot.
I hate doing things for that man. Normally I’d rather tear off my own left ear than try to please him. But it was for the best. Bella was right. Now they had a better car, they’d go out a whole lot more. I might have lost the battle, but at least, in doing so, I had won the battleground.
It was an honourable defeat.
A moral victory and a good result.
4_The Killer Cat's Birthday Bash
1: Not my fault
OKAY, OKAY. SO spank my furry little bum. I held a party.
And, go ahead. Stuff me with sorry pills. It all ended up a bit of a mess.
Well, more than a mess. A disaster.
Well, more than a disaster. A real riot.
But it was not my fault. If Ellie hadn’t got so bored she rooted through the cupboard and found that old photograph album, I would never have known the date of my birthday. None of it would have happened.
So you blame Ellie. Don’t blame me.
2: ‘You talkin’ ’bout me?’
IT WAS A horrible day. Horrible. The rain was splattering against the window panes. The wind was howling. So Ellie lay face down on the rug and flicked over the pages of the album.
‘Oooh, Dad! Here’s one of you the day you tumbled in that muddy ditch.’
(Best place for the man, if you want my opinion.)
‘Oooh, Mum! Come and look at this photo. Your hair looks lovely.’
(On Planet No-Style, maybe. But not here.)
On and on Ellie went, squealing away like that baby mouse Tiger and I gave such a good fright behind the wheelie bin. In the end I decided I couldn’t stand it any more, and made for the door.
Just then she squealed again. ‘Oh, here’s one of Tuffy! Doesn’t he look sweeeeeeeet?’
I turned to give her one of my ‘you talkin’ ’bout me?’ looks. She didn’t even notice. She was too busy oohing and aahing and fussing and cooing. ‘Oh,
come and look at this, Mum. Tuffy looks so cute!’
I’m not going to hang my head in shame and make excuses for myself. Back then I was a ball of fluff. I was a kitten. Baby kittens are sweet.
Ellie picked out another photo. ‘Oh, look! Tuffy is gorgeous!’
I couldn’t help it; I was curious. So I strolled back to take a look. And sure enough, there was this photo of me, all huge and trusting eyes, and fur around me like a fluffy cloud. I looked like something off one of those soppy birthday cards your great-aunt sends to your mother.
I nearly threw up. But Ellie was pointing to the writing underneath the photo as she read it aloud.
‘Our enchanting new kitten. Born on 31st October.’
She looked at her mother. ‘It’s October now,’ she said. ‘That means it’s nearly Tuffy’s birthday.’
‘That’s nice,’ said Ellie’s mother.
I thought so too. But Ellie’s father had to introduce a sour note into this warm family moment.
‘31st October?’ he said. ‘Isn’t that Halloween? The time when everything evil and ugly and dangerous crawls out to stalk the land.’ He snorted. ‘A very suitable day indeed for Tuffy’s birthday!’
Rude man. But did I bother to give him the blink? No. I was too busy thinking.
31st October. My birthday, eh?
Then why not hold a party?
Well, why not?
3: No dogs
‘RIGHT,’ BELLA SAID. ‘First we must decide on where we’re holding this birthday bash of yours.’
‘My house, of course,’ I told them.
‘It’s my birthday and my party, so we’ll have it at my house.’
Bella sighed. ‘Have you forgotten what day it’s going to be?’
‘No,’ I said, and couldn’t help turning sarcastic. ‘Unless I just happened to step out tonight without my brain, it’s on 31st October.’
‘That’s right,’ said Bella. ‘And that’s the night your family plans to hold a big Halloween party for everyone on the street.’
‘Really?’ I was astonished. ‘News to me.’ I turned to Tiger. ‘Did you know that?’
‘Sure I knew,’ Tiger told me. ‘This morning I was just sitting minding my own business on the front door mat when the invitation came through the letter box and fell on my head.’ He ran a paw over his fur. ‘I can still feel the lump.’