Mrs Tappin came into the room. “That’ll be the people for Star,” she said gently. She put an arm round Michael’s shoulders. “Be brave, love. You’ve looked after her very well. And perhaps in a year or so, you can have another kitten – a kitten of your own.”
Michael shrugged her arm away. “I don’t want another kitten!” he said. He was trying really hard not to cry now.
Michael’s dad showed Mrs Patel and her daughter Nashi into the room. Michael thought they looked very nice. But he couldn’t like them – they were going to take Star away from him.
“She’s behind the sofa,” he muttered, then turned away and blew his nose. “She’s asleep. She likes sleeping there.”
Nashi, a small girl with long plaits, crawled behind the sofa.
Michael held his breath.
After a few long seconds, Nashi crawled out again, looking upset. “It’s not her!” she said.
Michael felt the tightness and the tears inside him disappear as if by magic. He let out his breath in a long sigh.
“Are you sure?” Mrs Patel asked.
Nashi nodded sadly. “It’s definitely not our Leyla,” she said. “Leyla has one white toe, and a bit of white on the end of her tail as well.”
Mrs Patel turned to Michael’s mum and dad. “Thank you,” she said. “We’ll try the vet’s next. There’s a lost kitten there.”
“I really hope you find her,” Michael said to Nashi.
Nashi smiled. “Thank you,” she said. Then she and her mother went off towards the village vet’s.
Michael let out a shout of joy. This made Star jump. She sprang to her feet and, before Michael could catch her, ran straight up Mr Tappin’s trouser leg and huddled on his right shoulder.
“Ow!” Michael’s dad yelled, hopping around. “Her claws are getting sharper! And she’s making holes in all my shirts!”
Star scrambled down his front and pounced on his slippers. What fun!
Michael and his mum couldn’t stop laughing. As Star skittered across the wooden floor and hid behind a potted plant, Michael felt so happy, he thought he would burst!
“Well!” Mrs Tappin said.
Then there was a long silence.
“So . . .” said Mr Tappin. “What now?” He scratched his head. “No one else seems to be missing a kitten around here. It’s a mystery where she came from.”
Star seemed to know something was up. She peeped out from behind the plant, looking from one to the other of them.
Michael took a deep breath. “I’d like to spend my bike money,” he announced.
“You want to buy your bike now?” his mum said.
“No . . .” Michael said slowly. “I want to spend the money on Star. She needs injections and a cat basket and a collar and—”
“Yes, that’s true,” his dad interrupted. “But . . . what about your bike?”
“I still want it,” Michael said, “but that can wait. Mostly I want to look after Star. And I thought that if I bought all her things myself you might . . . let me keep her . . . if no one else claims her.”
Michael’s mum and dad looked at each other. “What do you think, Clive?” Mrs Tappin asked.
“Well,” Mr Tappin said seriously, “having watched Michael with Star, I do think he’d look after her properly.”
“So do I,” Mrs Tappin agreed, smiling. “And no one’s claimed her . . . so . . .”
Michael flew over to Star, picked her up and held her tightly. “Did you hear that, Star?” he said. “You can stay here, with us!”
Star began to purr and rubbed her face against Michael’s chin.
“Oh, by the way, Michael . . .” Mr Tappin said.
“Yes, Dad?” Michael asked.
“All that money you’ve got – how would you like to buy me some new trousers and shirts?” his dad joked.
“And if you’ve got any money left over, I’d like a new set of sitting-room curtains, please,” Michael’s mum joined in. “Star seems to think curtains are there for her to use as a climbing frame!”
As her new family laughed, Star smiled too – though to anyone else it looked like a yawn. Yes, she thought, she’d chosen her new home very well. And here she was going to stay . . .
Nell
the Naughty Kitten
Special thanks to Angie Sage
Chapter One
“Tom quick, look! Nell’s doing it again!” yelled Tom Morgan’s twin sisters, Jo and Hattie.
Tom ran to the door and stared across the farmyard to the pigpen. A fat, squealing pig was tearing round the pen in a panic. Sitting calmly on the fence was a little stripy ball of fluff.
The ball of fluff was Nell, the new kitten on the farm.
“Oh no!” Tom pulled on his wellingtons and rushed out into the farmyard. Hattie and Jo ran after him.
Nell’s favourite game was playing with the short, curly tail of Poppy, their heavily pregnant pig. But Poppy didn’t seem to like this game very much.
Tom ran up to the pigpen just as Poppy skidded to a halt and stamped her trotters crossly. Nell jumped neatly down from the fence and landed at Tom’s feet.
The kitten looked up at Tom and began to purr. He was her favourite person on the farm.
Tom picked Nell up, trying not to smile. “You’re a naughty girl!” he said. “Poppy could have squashed you!”
“It’s not funny,” said Hattie.
“No, it’s not,” agreed Jo. “You know Poppy’s expecting piglets and she mustn’t get upset. This is the third time this week that Nell’s been inside her pen. Mum will be really cross when she finds out.”
Tom sighed. He knew Jo was right, but he found it hard to be angry with Nell. She was such fun! Much more interesting than his goldfish, Eric. Tom knew that Hattie and Jo loved Nell too, but not as much as he did.
“Well, we don’t have to tell Mum,” said Tom as he walked back to the house holding Nell tightly, just in case she decided to do something else naughty.
“I bet she’ll know anyway,” said Hattie. “Poppy won’t stop squealing.”
“Mum always knows if Poppy is upset,” said Jo. “And she’ll guess it was Nell again.”
“But promise you won’t tell her,” shouted Tom over the noise of his mother’s tractor coming into the farmyard.
“We won’t,” said Hattie and Jo.
Tom took Nell into the kitchen and put her into her basket. “Now you stay there,” he said, trying to be stern. “Don’t muck around any more today!”
Nell didn’t like it when Tom was cross. “Can’t we play with my toy mouse?” she miaowed.
But Tom still looked serious.
Nell sat back in her basket and yawned. She decided to give herself a bit of a wash. But before long, she fell asleep.
Tom got up and looked out of the window. He watched his mum get down from the tractor and look into the pigpen. Hattie and Jo were shaking their heads solemnly.
“I hope Poppy’s all right,” Tom muttered to himself as his mum marched across the farmyard towards the kitchen.
The kitchen door opened and Mrs Morgan stomped into the house.
“Hi Mum,” said Tom warily.
“Where’s that cat?” replied Mrs Morgan.
“She’s not a cat, Mum, she’s only a kitten,” said Tom. He went over to the cat basket where Nell was fast asleep.
“And she’s too young to understand about pigs,” said Hattie, coming into the kitchen.