All the time she was talking, Woppit was purring loudly and comfortably. But when she caught sight of Calidor, bedraggled and miserable in Rosemary’s lap, her untidy fur bristled with indignation.
‘What have the horrid humans been doing to you then, my pet? I knew it all along! I never did hold with humans!’
‘We aren’t wicked, even if we are humans!’ said John indignantly. ‘And we didn’t do anything!’
‘It was Calidor’s fault,’ said Pergamond virtuously. ‘We were hungry, and I only said I thought there might be sardines in the water at the bottom of the can, and he was looking to see, and he fell in. He was only doing this.’
She put her front paws on the rim of the can, and heaving her stumpy hind legs up the side, tried to stand on the rim. John’s hand shot out again just in time to stop her from falling in as her brother had done. He set her firmly down on the ground.
‘But there weren’t any sardines,’ said Calidor, who was beginning to revive. ‘Only a lot of smelly water.’ He sneezed violently. ‘I think I’ve lost a life,’ he went on with gloomy satisfaction. ‘You’ll catch it when Father hears!’
‘I’m hungry,’ mewed Pergamond. ‘I want my breakfast!’
‘Regular meals they’re used to, like any well brought-up kittens. There’s some people takes on a job without so much as knowing the first thing about it.’ Woppit looked sourly at John and Rosemary.
‘Look here,’ said John angrily, ‘are you suggesting that Rosie and I aren’t capable of looking after a couple of kittens?’
‘Well then, which of you is going to lick my little princeling clean? And no licking around the corners, mind!’
‘Lick him!’ said Rosemary in horror, looking at the kitten’s matted fur.
‘That’s what I said. You’ll never get him clean without. Either I licks, or you licks, and if I stays and licks, I stays for good!’ said Woppit. ‘Which is it to be?’
‘I should have thought a bath –’ began Rosemary. But at the word ‘bath’ the kittens set up such a mewing, and Woppit’s comforting was so noisy, that the children could not hear themselves speak. They slipped outside the greenhouse and shut the door behind them quite firmly.
‘Whew!’ said John. ‘I’m beginning to see what Carbonel means about the kittens being “high spirited”.’
‘Look here,’ interrupted Rosemary, ‘I think we should find Woppit very useful. After all, we can’t sit and hold their paws all day long.’
‘Yes, but I refuse to have an old tabby cat ordering me around,’ said John.
‘I don’t think she’ll try if we make her see that we only want to do our best for the kittens.’
‘Perhaps you’re right,’ said John. ‘Suppose I run back upstairs and get them some milk, and you see what you can do with old Woppit.’ John ran.
When Rosemary went back into the greenhouse, Woppit was already vigorously licking a sulky Calidor. She eyed Rosemary suspiciously, but she did not stop.
‘Please, Woppit,’ said Rosemary humbly, ‘John and I want you to stay and show us how to look after Prince Calidor and Princess Pergamond, if you will.’
With a practised paw, Woppit rolled over a protesting Calidor and went on licking. She said nothing, but there was the faint suggestion of a purr.
‘Please, Woppit!’ pleaded Rosemary.
‘I’ll think about it!’ said Woppit, as though it were a perfectly new idea of Rosemary’s. ‘I might do it, to oblige.’ But she went on licking the unhappy Calidor so vigorously that Rosemary felt quite sorry for him, and her purring settled down to a deep, contented hum.
At that moment, John burst in at the door.‘Here’s some milk, but I only just got out without being seen,’ he said. ‘I could hear your mother getting up. We’d better hurry.’
They put the saucer down, left Woppit in charge, closed the door of the greenhouse firmly and ran back to the house and breakfast.
7
Figg’s Bottom
‘Really, Rosie,’ said Mrs Brown. ‘It was naughty of you to say you would look after three cats without asking first!’
Breakfast had been reduced to eggshells and toast crumbs before they had brought up the subject.
‘I know, Mummy, I’m awfully sorry, but –’
‘It wasn’t Rosie’s fault,’ broke in John. ‘You see, the… the… person they belong to had to go away this morning urgently, and there wasn’t time.’
‘Butthree cats, dears!’
‘One cat and two kittens,’ pleaded Rosemary. ‘And if you would only come and see them, Mummy, you couldn’t say no!’
Mrs Brown tried to go on frowning, but the two pleading faces were too much for her, and presently she smiled.
‘All right,’ she said at last. ‘But if you want to keep them in the greenhouse, you must ask Mr Featherstone’s permission, and you must look after them yourselves.’
‘Of course we’ll look after them, won’t we, John? They are very special kittens, and we wouldn’t trust them to anyone else. May we go and ask permission this minute?’
The children ran downstairs to the ground floor flat, where they found Mr Featherstone shaving with an electric razor. When he heard them come in, he wheeled around, his razor buzzing in his hand like a wasp in a jam jar.
‘Good heavens, it’s young John! Rosemary told me you were coming. Glad to see you, my boy! Have a bull’s eye. You’ll find them somewhere about, on the bookcase I think. I’m afraid it’s a bit untidy.’
Rosemary felt that‘untidy’ hardly described it. They couldn’t find the bull’s eyes among the litter of things on the bookcase, but they ran them to earth at last behind the coal scuttle in a very sticky bag. Because of the bull’s eyes they explained the situation rather indistinctly. However, Mr Featherstone seemed to understand.
‘Three cats in the greenhouse?’ he said. ‘I don’t see why not. No geraniums, so why not kittens? I remember you always had a weakness for the creatures, Rosie. Listen, I’ve got to take the van into Broomhurst this afternoon. Suppose you and John come with me. I could drop you in the country at the end of the town somewhere, and pick you up on the way back. What do you say?’
John and Rosemary thought it was an excellent idea.
They spent the morning making the greenhouse comfortable for the kittens. Mrs Brown found them an old blanket and the lid of a cardboard box so they could make a bed. They stacked the old flower pots in a corner and swept the floor and dusted the shelves, to the indignation of a number of spiders and several wood lice. Woppit lay in the sun outside and slept, and the two kittens chased the broom and their own tails, until they, too, fell asleep.
‘I expect Blandamour will come to see them soon, and I should like it all to look its very nicest,’ said Rosemary, standing back to admire the effect.
‘Bless you, she wouldn’t notice!’ said Woppit from the doorway. ‘Them as lives in high places thinks high and is above such things. Not that it isn’t right and proper for the humble likes of you and me to do our best, for all that!’
John did not much care for being bracketed with Woppit as‘humble’, but, luckily, at that moment Mrs Brown arrived.
‘I thought that you and the cats might like some milk, and besides I want to be introduced,’ she said, setting down a tray. On it were two mugs, a saucer and a jug of milk.
‘The black one is Calidor and the other is Pergamond,’ said Rosemary, squatting down beside the ball that was two sleeping kittens.
‘The little dears!’ said her mother softly, stirring them gently with the toe of her shoe. Then she said, ‘I have your tea. I wanted to make some for Mr Featherstone – I’m sure he doesn’t look after himself properly – but he said he would get some in Broomhurst. If you ask him to put you down by the turning to Figg’s Bottom, you can go to Turley’s Farm and ask for some milk instead of carrying something to drink with you.’