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Children. Kitten-humans. That’d be interesting. I often used to watch some playing outside the pub, on the village green. Perhaps they’d play with me. At least that’d make the time go more quickly until George could come back for me.

* * *

The house next door was completely different from Nicky and Daniel’s. Not that I’d had much time to explore theirs, but the living room was tiny, and the kitchen where I ate my food was not much bigger than the broom cupboard back at the pub. And when I’d been hanging onto the top of their curtains, I’d looked for a garden, but there wasn’t one: just a little bit of paving with one of those washing lines that goes round and round in the wind. When Nicky carried me into Martin and Sarah’s house, I could see the garden straight away, through the big glass doors at the end of the lounge. There was lots of nice grass, and bushes – places for hiding – and even some swings like the ones they had on the village green for the children. There were two little girls playing in the garden, wrapped up in coats and boots, chasing each other around. It looked like fun and I quite fancied joining in. But Nicky sat down with me on her lap while Martin explained all about me to Sarah.

‘Oh, poor Oliver!’ Sarah said when she’d heard the whole story about George and the pub and the sister with the allergies. She was a smiley, cuddly-looking female, with pretty long golden hair, and she kept smiling at me. ‘Of course he can stay with us. The children will love him, and I’m sure you’re right, it’ll help us all get over Sooty.’

‘Well, if there’s any problem, we’ll take him back. We’ll manage somehow,’ Nicky said anxiously. ‘I’d love to look after him, if only…’

She looked so sad at not being able to afford my dinners, I felt really upset for her. I gave her a little lick on her hand and rubbed my face against hers.

‘He’s really taken to you, hasn’t he?’ Sarah said. ‘Tell you what – we could kind of share him, couldn’t we? Till George comes back? I mean, we’ll feed him here, of course, it’s no trouble, as I only do a bit of freelance work so I’m here most of the day. But I bet he’ll still come next door to you for extra cuddles.’

Well, that seemed to cheer Nicky up, and it did me, too. Yes, I certainly seemed to have fallen on my paws! Not one new foster-home, but two. Neither of them were going to be as good as being back with George in the pub, of course. But I just had to be a big brave cat and make the best of it. There were a lot of cats worse off than me. And I’d been through a lot worse myself, in fact, when I was a very small kitten, even younger than you. But as I’ve said already, that’s another story. I might tell you one day, even though it still makes me shiver to think about it. But right now, little kitten, it’s getting late, and getting dark, and I think we both need to go back for our dinners. I’ll tell you some more tomorrow.

CHAPTER FOUR

Hello again. You’re awake early, aren’t you? Couldn’t sleep? Huh, I remember feeling like that sometimes when I was a younger cat – on nice bright mornings like this, when there were birds to chase and flies to jump around after. Now, there aren’t enough hours in the day for all the catnaps I need.

Oh, it’s because you’re excited to hear the rest of my story, is it? Well, I warn you, it might take a long while and you’ll probably get fed up before the end of it and want to be off dancing around in the sunshine again. What it is to be young!

All right, where did I get up to yesterday? Ah yes – Martin and Sarah’s house. I slept well there, that first night. Sarah made me up a lovely comfy bed in Sooty’s old basket, with soft blankets and some kind of furry toy from one of the children to keep me company. Of course, you know what it’s like, don’t you? I didn’t often sleep there after the first night. No matter how comfy a bed is, we cats like to find different places to sleep. There was an armchair in their lounge with a big thick velvety cushion on, that I was particularly fond of.

Anyway, let me tell you about the children. They were two small females, called Grace and Rose. Grace was bigger than Rose. She giggled a lot and moved around very quickly. She got so excited when Sarah introduced me to her, I thought she was going to run up the curtains. Rose was different – quiet and not so happy looking. I could see why. She had a damaged front paw. It was wrapped up in a kind of hard case that looked like a bandage, and she had to wear something they called a sling, like a harness round her neck, to keep it in place. I felt sorry for her and gave her some extra licks and rubs, but although one minute she was smiling as if she was pleased to meet me, she suddenly burst into tears and started saying ‘Sooty! Sooty!’ over and over while she cried. I didn’t like to think I’d upset her. I ran off and hid under a chair.

‘Don’t worry, Oliver,’ Sarah said kindly, bending down under the chair to talk to me. ‘It’s not your fault. Rose is still upset about losing her other cat.’

Well, after a little while she did stop crying, and the two girls played with me nicely indoors with a ball and an empty cardboard box. Yes, I know you might think I was a bit old for that kind of stuff, but we cats never grow out of the cardboard box thing. It’s just so much fun, I never get tired of it! While we were playing, I could hear Martin and Sarah talking quietly in the kitchen. They probably thought none of us could hear, but perhaps they forgot what sharp ears we cats have.

‘I hope we’re doing the right thing,’ Sarah said, sounding worried. ‘She hasn’t cried that much since the day it happened.’

‘Then it probably is the right thing. She’s been bottling up her feelings.’

‘I know. She’s hardly spoken since it happened, has she? I keep trying to encourage her to talk about the accident, but she won’t.’

‘In her mind, the two things are linked. She ran into the road after Sooty…’

‘Well, Martin, let’s face it, they are linked! But she can’t accept that it wasn’t her fault.’

There was a silence for a while, apart from the sound of saucepans and things being moved around. Apparently they were preparing Sunday Lunch. That was something I knew about, from all those busy times in the pub. It made me feel a bit homesick.

‘I just hope it’ll cheer her up, having Oliver here,’ Sarah suddenly went on. ‘She’s refused to go out and play with the other children all through half-term, and Grace hasn’t wanted to go out without her. So they’ve both been stuck at home for the whole holiday. It’s a good thing they’re going back to school tomorrow really. It might take her mind off it.’

‘Poor love, she can’t really forget about the accident at all until the cast comes off her arm. And they’re both obviously missing poor old Sooty.’

‘Yes.’ I heard Sarah’s sigh, all the way from the next room. ‘Brownies would have helped cheer her up – she normally loves going to Brownies.’

‘But they can’t hold their meetings, can they, while the hall’s out of action.’

‘Exactly. I don’t know what’s going to happen there. And it’s not just Brownies, of course. The Cubs’ meetings are there too and, well, everything that goes on in the village! The senior citizens’ club, the WI, the nursery and the pre-school…’

‘You’re right. It’s going to be a long time before the hall’s fit for purpose. All those pensioners will miss their meetings, for sure. And the parents who work. How will they manage without the nursery?’ He paused. ‘And there was I, worrying about missing my dominoes matches in the pub.’