Milly peered out of the wire cage. The man had tipped her out of the carrier, and she had felt so dazed and dizzy after the car journey that she had simply curled up in the corner with her eyes shut. But now that she was feeling a little better she was trying to understand where she was and what was happening.
Her cage was small – not all that much bigger than the carrier had been – and there was a tatty blanket in it, a litter tray and a water bowl. There was a food bowl, too, but it was empty. The cage was stacked on top of another one and there were several more all round the shed. The whole place was grubby and cold, and it smelled as though the litter trays weren’t emptied often enough. It was dark, too – the only window was dirty and hardly let in any light.
But the strangest thing was that there were three other cats. Milly hadn’t seen that many since she’d come to live with Tia and Christy. Occasionally she would see one of the neighbourhood cats prowling through her garden, which she hated. But there wasn’t a lot she could do about it, except scrabble her paws on the window.
There was a cat in the cage right next to her, just on the other side of the wire. He was bigger than her, and he had a fat, squashed face and a lot of long fur in a strange blue-grey colour. He hissed angrily at Milly, and she took a step back and nearly fell over.
The big blue Persian hissed again and shot out a fat paw, scraping it down the side of the wire with a screechy clatter.
Milly’s tail fluffed up to twice its usual size, and she hissed and spat back. She might be small, but she was angry. She had been stolen and stuffed in a box, and now she was shut up here.
The Persian was still hissing, but crawling backwards now, his golden-orange eyes fixed on hers. They glared at each other, both of them refusing to back down.
As Milly watched him edge up against the side of his cage she decided that there wasn’t much point in making a fuss. He was there and she was here, neither of them could get out – that was what they should be worrying about.
She let out a last little growl and curled herself up on the blanket, wondering how she was going to get home to Tia.
“Anything?” Mum asked, as Tia came in from the garden. She had been out to call for Milly again while Mum and Christy went to ask Mr Jackson if he’d seen the kitten, and Max’s owners too. No one had seen her, though.
Tia rubbed her eyes, trying not to cry. She didn’t want to scare Christy. “Do you think someone took her?” she whispered to Mum.
Mum hugged her. “No, Tia, I’m sure she’s just gone exploring. Don’t worry.”
But Tia was worried. Milly never went far. Whenever Tia called her, there’d always be a scrabbling on the other side of the fence and a little whiskery golden face would appear over the top. “Can we go and look up and down the road?” she begged.
They searched their street and the next couple of streets, calling for Milly and asking people if they’d spotted her. And they kept going until it got too dark to see.
Mum said Milly would probably come back when she got hungry, but the kitten still hadn’t returned by bedtime. Christy climbed the ladder to Tia’s top bunk, and the sisters curled up together.
“She’ll come back tomorrow, won’t she?” Christy asked.
Tia tried to sound confident. “Oh yes.” Please let it be true, she thought. “We’ll probably find her in her basket when we come down in the morning.”
“She could be there now!” Christy clutched at Tia’s pyjamas. “We should go downstairs and see!”
“No… Not yet,” Tia murmured. She wasn’t sure she could manage not to cry if they didn’t find their lovely kitten.
“I really miss her…” Christy said sleepily.
“Me too,” Tia sniffed. “But she’ll be back tomorrow,” she said, trying to convince herself.
But the next morning there was no Milly yowling for her breakfast. It seemed so unfair to have to go to school – all Tia wanted to do was search for Milly. It was Friday. Nothing important happened at school on Fridays.
As she trailed into the playground, her friend Lucy came running over.
“Hi, Tia! Hey, what’s the matter?”
“Milly,” Tia gulped, swallowing back tears. “She’s disappeared. And I can’t help thinking someone’s kidnapped her. Remember I told you about those cat thieves?”
Lucy’s eyes widened. “Oh no! How long’s she been gone for?”
“She wasn’t there when we got home yesterday. She managed to get out of her cat flap even though it was locked.”
Lucy frowned. “I don’t think Mittens would ever do anything like that. What makes you think she’s been stolen?”
Tia sighed. “It’s just a feeling I’ve got… I know that sounds stupid.”
“No…” Lucy said thoughtfully. “I know what you mean. When Mittens was lost, I was sure she’d come back. She was gone for more than a week, and Mum told me maybe I should give up, but I didn’t.”
“I forgot about that! It was in the summer holidays, wasn’t it? How did you find her?” Tia asked eagerly.
“We made loads of posters and stuck them on lamp posts, and I put leaflets through the door of every house in our road, asking them to check their sheds. And that’s where somebody found her! It was just lucky that it was a leaky shed and there was a puddle of water, otherwise Mittens would have died,” Lucy added, her voice shaking a little.
“Posters…” Tia said thoughtfully. “And leaflets. Right. We’ll make some tonight.”
“What about this one?” Tia said to Dad, pointing to one of the photos of Milly on the screen.
“Mmmm.” Dad nodded. “But she’s more recognizable from the side, don’t you think? Because of her lovely spots.”
“Look!” Christy said. “That’s the one Mum took when Milly climbed into the cupboard!”
Tia enlarged the photo and smiled. Milly was peering out, looking worried. They’d actually moved the cat food to the top cupboard after her first cat-food raid. And Mum had even started keeping the food in a tin instead of a bag. But Milly was just too clever. She’d even managed to hook the lid open with her claws.
“She’s so naughty…” Mum sighed.
“Mum!” Tia looked up at her. “Aren’t you sad she’s missing?”
“Of course I am, Tia! But she is naughty!”
“I suppose you wish we had a better-behaved cat instead!” Tia said, her voice choked with tears.
“I didn’t mean that at all,” Mum tried to say, but Tia was too upset to listen.
“You’re glad she’s gone!” she sobbed.
“Tia!” Mum snapped, her voice sharp enough to jolt Tia out of her fit of crying. “Sweetheart, that’s just silly. Yes, I get cross with Milly when she’s naughty, but she’s a kitten! Kittens do silly things, it’s what we signed up for! Especially when we agreed to have a Bengal.” She put her arm round Tia’s shoulder. “Do you think you’re the only one who read that book on Bengal cats?”
Tia gaped at her. She hadn’t realized Mum had read the book too.
“When I’m at home with her in the mornings, she follows me around, you know.” Mum sniffed. “And I’m always having to rescue her from the washing machine. It’s a wonder I’ve never actually put it on with her in it! I love her too, Tia, and we will do our absolute best to find her.”
“Sorry,” Tia murmured. Somehow knowing that Mum was really missing Milly helped.
Dad smiled. “She’s a little terror, isn’t she? But nobody wants a better-behaved cat, Tia. We want our cat. Now I think this photo of her in the garden is the best. What shall we say on the poster?”