Emily was full of news of the kittens the next day at school. Their friends Libby and Poppy rushed up to her, desperate to know what had happened. Mia did her best to join in and sound enthusiastic, but it was hard.
“There’s a black one, and two tabbies, and the last one to be born was a tiny, tiny little white one, with the most enormous set of whiskers!” Emily beamed at Mia. “Do you think you can come and see them after school?”
Mia hesitated. She could – but she was worried she’d do something awful like start crying. “Um, I’m not sure,” she said slowly. “Gran’s picking me up, and she said something about going shopping.”
“Oh.” Emily looked a bit surprised, as though she’d been expecting Mia to be more excited, and Mia felt guilty.
“Did you learn those spelling words?” she asked quickly, to try and distract Emily from the kittens.
Emily pulled a face. “Well, I looked at them… But then the kittens were so lovely to watch – they’re all just nosing around each other and Silky and squeaking, it’s so funny. I probably haven’t learned them properly.” She sighed. “Can you test me?”
Mia nodded, feeling relieved. She’d got away with it for today, but she wasn’t going to be able to keep on making excuses. Sooner or later, she was going to have to go and see the kittens.
By the end of the week, Mia had run out of excuses to say to Emily, and Emily was running out of patience. On Friday at lunchtime, she told Mia that her mum said she could come over at the weekend to see the kittens if she wanted.
Mia’s mind went blank. What could she possibly say, except that she didn’t want to? She couldn’t pretend to be busy for the whole weekend.
“So will you come?” Emily asked, staring at her and frowning slightly.
Mia opened her mouth, and then closed it again helplessly.
“You don’t want to, do you?” Emily said. Her voice was flat, and Mia could see that she was really hurt. It made Mia feel terrible.
“Sorry…” she whispered.
“Is it because of Sandy?” Emily said. She sounded as though she was trying to be cross, but she couldn’t manage it. Emily was useless at arguing. When she and Mia had a fight it usually only lasted two minutes before Emily cried.
Mia nodded. “It’s not that I don’t want you to have them… I just miss Sandy, and you having all those kittens…”
“I know you miss Sandy,” Emily said, her voice getting sniffly already. “But you’re supposed to be my best friend, and you ought to at least try and be happy for me! I really wanted to show them to you.”
Mia nodded. She felt like she might cry now, too. “I know! I really am trying! I just can’t make myself stop being sad about him. I can’t be happy about the kittens. I can’t do it!”
Emily stared back at her, tears welling up in her brown eyes, and then she gave a huge sniff and raced off to hide in the corner of the playground behind one of the benches.
Mia stared after her sadly. She knew she ought to go after her friend and say sorry, and promise that of course she’d go and see the kittens. But her feet just wouldn’t move.
It was a very strange walk home. Mia and Emily didn’t talk to each other, and Mia’s gran, who’d come to fetch them, could hardly get them to talk to her either. For Mia, it was a relief when Emily ducked into her garden.
“What on earth’s the matter?” Gran asked, as they took off their coats in the hallway. “Have you two had a row?”
“Sort of…” Mia admitted.
“Well, I hope you’re going to make up, Mia. You both looked so miserable. Can’t you talk to her about it? Why don’t you give her a call?”
Mia shook her head. “It wasn’t really that sort of fight. We didn’t shout at each other, or anything. It’s mostly my fault, and Emily won’t be my friend unless I can sort it out. But I can’t…” She sniffed. She’d spent the whole afternoon feeling awful, and now she was at home with only Gran to see, she felt like just letting herself cry.
Gran hugged her. “Oh, Mia. Why don’t you tell me? Maybe talking to someone else will help.”
Mia shook her head. “I don’t think it will,” she whispered. But she let Gran lead her into her little sitting room, and sat down on the sofa with her.
Gran gave her a tissue. “Go on, Mia. What happened?”
“She wants me to go and see her kittens.”
“And you can’t?”
Mia leaned against her shoulder. “It makes me too sad,” she murmured. “Mum and Dad keep talking about us getting another pet, a rabbit, or even another cat. It’s like everyone’s forgotten Sandy.”
Gran sighed. “I don’t think that’s true, Mia. Your mum and dad are trying to cheer you up, that’s all. We all loved Sandy, you know that. He was your special cat, though, I do understand.”
“I really, really miss him…” Mia said tearfully. “Mum and Dad won’t listen to me. They think I ought to have got over it by now, and I’m just being silly!”
“Oh, Mia, they really don’t think that. They just want you to be happy.”
“But it was August when he died, and it’s only October now. I haven’t stopped missing him yet.” Mia sniffed. “I can’t imagine not missing him! And now I can’t even say anything about it to Emily, because she’s so excited about her kittens. I tried to explain, but she didn’t understand.”
“It’s such a special time for her,” Gran said, stroking Mia’s hair. “She can’t help being happy about it, can she?”
“I suppose not. I just wish I could be happy with her, that’s all.”
“Are you sure you want to be happy?” Gran said thoughtfully, and Mia sat up and stared at her.
“Of course I am! I don’t want to be miserable!”
“But I think you’re hanging on to being sad, Mia. At least if you’re miserable, someone’s still missing Sandy. It’s as if he’s still here. Do you see what I mean?”
Mia shook her head. “It isn’t like that…” But her voice trailed off. Maybe it was, a little bit.
“Look.” Gran got up, and fetched a little photo album from a shelf. “I’ve been making this for you, Mia, but I wasn’t going to give it to you yet, in case it just made you more upset.”
“Oh, Gran! All these photos of Sandy…” Mia turned the pages, laughing as Sandy turned from a little gingery fluffball into the big, handsome cat she remembered. “He was so special,” she said sadly.
“Do you know what I noticed most of all about these photos?” Gran asked, smiling at a photo of Sandy last Christmas, lying in a pile of wrapping paper, a ribbon wrapped around his paws. “He was always such a happy cat.”
Mia smiled. It was true.
“Except those last couple of weeks, when he was ill. He was so tired, he wasn’t really himself any more. He’d purr if we stroked him, especially for you. But most of the time, he just slept.”
Mia nodded. “He didn’t even want to eat.”
“Exactly. And this was Sandy, he loved his food!”
Mia giggled. Mum was always getting cross with Sandy – if she left anything lying around in the kitchen while she was cooking, she only had to turn her back for a second, and a sneaky ginger paw would have swiped it. He even ate mushrooms, which was very unusual for a cat.