“Are you sure?” Mum frowned. “You didn’t look for very long…”
“Yes, Mum. I can stroke Sammy and look, you know. Hurry up! Auntie Grace’ll be here to babysit soon.”
Mum rushed off, and Emma giggled and gently moved the food bowl. Sammy had fallen asleep with his head in it! He twitched a little and then flopped down, collapsing across her hand with a little wheezy snore. She leaned against the crate, closing her eyes and smiling dreamily to herself. Soon they’d be able to take him out of there and he’d be a real pet, she was sure.
“Are you asleep, Emma?”
“Oh! Auntie Grace, shh. I’m not, but Sammy is.” Emma reached out the arm that wasn’t in the crate to hug her aunt. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Your dad was walking up the path when I pulled up, so I didn’t have to ring the bell. He’s just gone to change. So this is Sammy? He’s gorgeous.”
“Isn’t he?” Emma agreed proudly. “And he’s getting much more confident again. He was really upset on Saturday when we brought him home, but he’s a lot happier now.” Carefully, she slid her hand out from underneath him, and Sammy snuffled but stayed asleep. She grinned at her aunt. “I’ve got pins and needles now. Mum says please can you help me with my science homework, but she’s got us a DVD for afterwards.”
Emma yawned and snuggled against Auntie Grace. “Can’t we watch a bit more?”
“No! You know your mum said eight-thirty, cheeky. Besides, haven’t you got to feed Sammy before bed?”
“Oh yes, and you haven’t seen him awake yet, I forgot!” Emma sprang up from the sofa. “I’ll go and get his food.” She hurried into the kitchen and began to measure it out, while Sammy padded up and down the crate, watching her and mewing hopefully.
Emma had just opened the door of the crate to put the bowl in when Auntie Grace pushed open the kitchen door. It banged slightly, and Sammy jumped at the noise. He saw Auntie Grace – someone he’d never met before – and suddenly panicked. He hissed loudly, and Emma stared at him. “What’s the matter, Sammy?”
“Oh dear, is he OK?” Auntie Grace asked, leaning over to look at him.
Sammy hissed again as he saw the strange person coming closer. He darted out of the crate door, desperate to get away.
“I think he’s a bit scared because you’re new,” Emma said worriedly, trying to catch him. “Maybe you’d better just let me sort him out, Auntie Grace.”
Auntie Grace stepped back out of the kitchen, but Sammy was already spooked. He scrabbled over Emma’s arm in a panic, accidentally clawing at her wrist so that she squeaked and dropped the food bowl.
The bowl smashed on the tiles with a huge crash, and Sammy yowled in fright. He raced round the side of the crate, but the table was pushed up against the wall below the window and there was nowhere to go. Frantically, he clawed his way up the curtains, digging his tiny claws into the fabric.
Sammy hung there, swaying a little. He didn’t really understand what had happened. He’d been about to eat his food – he could smell it – and then suddenly everything was different and terrifying. Now he didn’t even know where he was, or how he’d got so high up.
The curtain fabric ripped a little under his weight, and he slid down a few centimetres with a frightened mew. He tried to claw his way back up again, but the shiny fabric was difficult to climb, and he slipped further down.
“Sammy, it’s all right…” Emma’s voice, low and soothing. And now he wasn’t falling any more. Her hands were around him, the way they were when she fed him sometimes. After struggling for a moment, he let her unhook his paws from the few last threads of the curtains, and sat tensely in her hands, ears back and fur fluffed up.
She lifted him down, still whispering gently, and slid him back into the crate. Sammy backed away from the door anxiously, but the strange person had gone now, he could see. It was just Emma. He knew her. She was safe.
“Emma! You’re still up!”
Emma jerked awake. Mum was standing in the living-room doorway, looking surprised.
“Sorry,” said Auntie Grace. “Emma was upset, I didn’t want to make her go to bed…”
“What happened?” Dad asked, just at the same time as Mum noticed Emma’s scratched wrist and swooped down to check it.
“Emma, you’ve hurt yourself! Oh no, was it Sammy?”
“He didn’t mean to.” Emma looked sleepily at Dad and Mum. “It was an accident. And, um, I broke his food bowl. Sorry… We swept it up.”
“What’s been going on?” Dad sat down on the arm of the sofa, and Mum came to sit next to Emma.
Emma sighed. She was so tired it was hard to explain. “I went to feed him, but he was scared of Auntie Grace.”
“It was my fault. I should have thought, of course, he’s never seen me before,” Auntie Grace put in. “And he’s a bit more nervous than most kittens. I frightened him and he jumped out of the crate and scratched Emma by accident.”
“And that made me drop his bowl, and he got even more scared and ran up the curtains.”
“Oh my goodness,” Mum muttered.
“I’m afraid he did tear them a bit,” Auntie Grace went on slowly. “But he’s back in the crate now and he’s calmed down. In fact, last time Emma checked he was asleep, wasn’t he?”
Emma nodded.
Mum leaned back against the sofa and let out a huge sigh. “I knew this was a mistake. We should never have brought him home. He was so upset when we took him away from the stables and his mum. I just don’t think it’s fair.”
“Mum!” Emma gasped.
“Oh, Emma. You have to see I’m right – just look at your wrist!”
Emma looked down at the three long red lines, and the little scratches that she’d got all over her hands when she was taking Sammy off the curtains. They were sore, but it hadn’t been Sammy’s fault. He was just scared – he hadn’t meant to hurt her.
Mum put her arm round Emma. “I know how hard you’ve tried with Sammy, but he might not be the right cat for us after all. He needs to go to a shelter, I think. Where they’ve got people who are used to looking after cats like him.”
“I’m not sure,” Dad said. “I know Sammy was difficult when we brought him home, but he is getting better.”
“Getting better!” Mum stared at him. “Emma’s covered in scratches!”
“I don’t think it’s that big a deal,” Auntie Grace said gently. “Even Whisky scratches me sometimes, if I go to pick him up and he just doesn’t feel like it.”
Mum sighed again. “I’m sorry, Emma, but he’s too unpredictable. I’m not sure he’s ever going to be really friendly. Maybe he needs a home more like the stables, where he doesn’t have to be around people if he doesn’t want to.”
“Mum, please don’t send him away!” Emma wailed. “I don’t want any other cat, only Sammy! He’ll be fine, he will. I’ll do anything to keep him.” She stared pleadingly at her mum, tears trickling down her cheeks. She couldn’t bear the thought of poor Sammy going to a shelter – somewhere else strange and new and frightening. He’d have to start all over again, and soon it would be too late to tame him. He’d be shy and wild forever.
“Look, just give us a few more weeks, love,” Dad suggested. “Of course today’s a bit of a setback, but we have to keep trying.”