When it was all gone he sat up and eyed her hopefully, licking his whiskers. He cast a quick look behind him. The others were all watching, but they weren’t coming any closer. The food was all his! He knew it was risky, but the sandwich was too delicious. He had to have more!
Rosie couldn’t help smiling. He was only about a metre away from her foot, almost close enough to touch. This time, instead of throwing the sandwich, she just held out her hand with the last few pieces in.
The ginger kitten stared at her nervously. What was he supposed to do now? The smell of that sandwich was so good. He could just run up and grab it, couldn’t he? He skittered forward, his whiskers trembling, and quickly licked up a few crumbs from Rosie’s hand, before stepping back to watch her again.
Then he heard a noise and looked round. His brother and sisters were starting to creep closer! They’d seen that he wasn’t afraid, so they were getting braver, too. If he didn’t wolf that sandwich down fast, he might have to share it.
The ginger kitten hurried back to Rosie and started to eat as fast as he could, licking the crumbs away with his rough little tongue. Rosie had to try hard not to giggle – he was tickling her!
In a few seconds the kitten had eaten the lot. He glared at her hand, obviously wondering when it was going to produce some more.
“Sorry, it’s all gone,” Rosie whispered. “But I’ll bring you some more next time. I bet Mum would let me have ham sandwiches if I asked, and I’d give them all to you.”
The kitten eyed her expectantly, and Rosie stretched out her hand. He licked it, but there was no more ham.
Rosie gently stroked the top of his head, and he jumped in surprise, looking up at her with enormous emerald eyes. What was that for? he seemed to be saying. Rosie guessed he just wasn’t used to being stroked. He didn’t know that she was trying to be nice. It made Rosie feel sad.
“Rosie! Where are you?” It was Gran, calling from the farmhouse door. The ginger kitten raced for the safety of the barn at top speed, chasing after his brother and sisters, and Rosie sighed as she got up. Still, she had managed to stroke him! That was a first. He was so little and thin, but his fur had been gorgeously soft, exactly as she’d imagined. More than ever, Rosie wished she could have a kitten just like him…
Chapter Two
Rosie thought about the ginger kitten all weekend. It was such a big step that he’d let her stroke him! Maybe she really would be able to tame him. He was very young, after all.
She sat dreamily at the kitchen table, while Mum was writing a shopping list, drawing pictures of the kitten. It was so hard to get his stripes right, she had to keep starting again.
“That’s beautiful, Rosie!” Mum said, leaning over.
Rosie shook her head. “His face ought to be more of a peachy colour. I don’t have the right pen for it.”
“Is it a real cat then?” Mum asked. “One of the ones you see on the way home from school?”
“He’s a kitten at Mrs Bowen’s farm,” Rosie explained. “You know, the little farm down the lane, about two minutes’ walk from Gran’s house? There’s five of them altogether. You’d love them, Mum.”
She looked hopefully at her mother. Maybe if Mum came and saw how cute the kittens were, she’d let them take the little ginger one home. If only Rosie could tame him…
“He does look cute,” her mum agreed. “Just be careful though, won’t you? Those wild cats have probably got all sorts of horrible bugs.”
Rosie sighed. That didn’t sound particularly hopeful…
Rosie’s mum couldn’t understand why she was so keen to get to school on Monday morning.
“I’m going to be at work early, at this rate,” she said. “What’s got into you, Rosie? Usually it’s me telling you to get a move on, not the other way around.”
Rosie just smiled. The sooner she was at school, the sooner it would be home time and she could persuade Gran to take her to the farm again. Or it felt that way anyway, even though she knew that really it didn’t make any difference how early she got there.
She’d made sure Mum bought ham for her sandwiches this week, and she’d begged for an extra yoghurt so she could save both sandwiches and not have her tummy rumbling all afternoon.
Luckily, Gran didn’t mind going to the farm again, and chatting with Mrs Bowen. Rosie ran ahead as they went down the lane that led past the farm, calling to her gran to hurry.
“I can’t walk any faster, Rosie,” said Gran. “You really do love those cats, don’t you?” She was frowning a little as she said it, but Rosie was thinking about whether the ginger kitten would remember her and didn’t notice.
It seemed to Rosie that the cats appeared more quickly this time when she sat down on the old tractor. Obviously they remembered her as the food person. The ginger kitten was the first to appear, his wide, white whiskers twitching with anticipation. Rosie wished he wasn’t so nervous of her, and that she could take him home and look after him. She crumbled the sandwich and scattered a few pieces around, hoping that again he’d be brave enough to come really close.
The kitten sniffed the air delightedly. More ham! And the others weren’t as brave as he was, so he could have most of it to himself. He was sure the girl wasn’t dangerous – she had touched him last time, but very gently. It had been quite nice. He’d even let her stroke him again, if there was ham.
Rosie watched hopefully as he crept forward, and she held out a particularly yummy-looking piece of ham. The kitten nibbled it delicately, then bumped her hand with his forehead, as if to say thank you. Rosie held out her left hand with some more sandwich, and carefully rubbed behind his ears with the other.
The kitten looked up at her, still confused about why she wanted to stroke him like this, but not minding too much. He even purred, just a little. He was a bit itchy behind the ears, and she was rubbing exactly the right spot.
He finished the last of the sandwich and stared at Rosie, sniffing her fingers to see if more food would appear. When it didn’t, he yawned, showing a very pink tongue, and jumped on his little tabby sister’s tail, starting a kitten wrestling match.
Rosie watched them, giggling quietly to herself. They were so funny! Maybe tomorrow she would bring a piece of string for them to chase, she was sure they would like that.
The kittens suddenly scattered, and Rosie turned to see her gran coming out of the farmhouse and waving goodbye to Mrs Bowen. Gran looked a bit worried, and Rosie jumped up.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, as they headed for the gate into the lane.
Gran looked down at her, and sighed. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this for a while, Rosie,” she said. “Mrs Bowen is moving – she’s going to live with her son in the village. The farmhouse is a bit too big for her now she’s on her own.”
Rosie stared up at Gran in surprise. She couldn’t imagine the farm without Mrs Bowen. “Oh… So who’s going to live at the farm now?” she asked. “Is Mrs Bowen selling it?” Rosie looked back at the farm gate. There was no For Sale sign up.
“No…” Gran hesitated. “Well, yes, I suppose she is. The land has been sold to a developer – they’re going to knock down the farm buildings and put up some houses instead. Mrs Bowen signed the contract with them a little while ago, and she’s been gradually packing her things up and moving them over to her son’s house. She’s leaving the farm this week.”
Rosie gasped. It was all happening so quickly. Then a horrible thought struck her. “But Gran, what’s going to happen to the cats? They won’t stay around when the farm’s a building site! Where will they go?”