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Mia took a deep breath. Whiskers nudged her knee with his nose and stood up, turning round a couple of times before settling himself into the perfect position, nose touching tail tip, like a little white fur cushion.

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Mia let the breath out again, shakily. There were white hairs on the blanket now, mixed with the ginger ones.

Whiskers opened one eye and yawned, showing a raspberry-pink tongue. Then he snuggled down further into the blanket, and went to sleep.

Just like he belonged.

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Mia yawned and rolled over, and felt Whiskers sigh in his sleep beside her. She’d had to move the fleece blanket now, to the side of her bed. Whiskers liked to sleep jammed between her and the wall, even though Mia sometimes worried that she would accidentally squash him.

She buried her head in her pillow and sighed happily. It didn’t feel like time to get up yet. Then her eyes snapped open. It was Christmas Day!

“Whiskers! Look, my Christmas stocking.” She sat up, and eyed the bulging red-and-white striped stocking happily. She could see a packet of her favourite toffees sticking out of it. “And cat crunchies, look! Your favourite fishy ones!”

Whiskers purred with pleasure. He didn’t know why Mia wanted to wake up early, but he would do anything for fishy crunchies. He patted happily at the ribbons as Mia unwrapped her stocking presents.

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“It’s nearly seven o’clock,” Mia said at last. “I wonder if Mum and Dad would mind being woken up yet? Or Gran?”

She climbed out of bed, and shrugged on her dressing gown, then padded out on to the landing, with Whiskers following her. She peeped in her mum and dad’s bedroom door, but they were both still fast asleep. Dad had said last night that his best Christmas present would be a lie-in, so she scooped Whiskers up before he could go and leap on to the bed. He’d only been with them a week, but already he had a thing about Dad’s feet. He liked to pounce on them, and Mia thought that probably wouldn’t be Dad’s ideal way to wake up.

She crept down the stairs. Gran always woke up early; she said it was to do with being over seventy– she didn’t need as much sleep any more.

“I can hear you, Mia! Happy Christmas!” Gran called, as Mia hesitated outside her door.

Mia slipped into Gran’s little annexe. “You’re up already!” she said, in surprise. Gran was sitting in her armchair, with a magazine and a cup of tea.

“Yes, and I’m glad you’re here. I’ve got a special present for you.” Gran reached over to her little table and picked up a flat, rectangular parcel, wrapped in shiny Christmas paper with a big ribbon bow. Gran liked wrapping presents.

“‘For Mia, with lots of love this Christmas – and for being brave,’” Mia read from the gift tag. “I don’t understand.”

“Open it, Mia, you’ll see.” Gran nodded eagerly.

Mia put Whiskers down on the floor, then started to undo the bow, and peel off the paper.

“Oh, Gran! It’s lovely!” It was a sort of box, with a beautiful painting of a cat on the lid.

“Ah, you haven’t seen inside it yet, open it up.”

It wasn’t actually a box, Mia realized, as she opened it. It was a hinged photo frame, made to take two photos, one beside the other.

As though it was made for two very special cats.

Mia smiled, her eyes blurring a little with tears, but only happy ones. On the left was Sandy, staring out at her, with his ears pricked up. Gran must have taken it just as he spotted a butterfly to chase, Mia thought. Sandy loved to hunt butterflies…

And on the right was a picture of her little Whiskers, sitting on Gran’s windowsill. The winter sun was shining on his gorgeous whiskers, so that they sparkled.

“Thanks, Gran, it’s the loveliest present.” Mia hugged her, and laughed as there was a sudden rustling sound. Whiskers had jumped on to the discarded wrapping paper, and was pouncing backwards and forwards, chasing an imaginary something. Maybe when he was bigger, Whiskers would chase butterflies too…

21. THE FRIGHTENED KITTEN

Chapter One

“Make sure you wrap it up carefully,” Kate told Maddy, stuffing an armful of bubble wrap into her best friend’s lap.

Maddy nodded, smoothing it out and starting to wind it round the photo frame.“Ben looks gorgeous in this picture,” she said, her voice a bit wobbly.

Kate nodded.“He always does. But that’s my favourite photo of him.”

Maddy stared down at the photo– she was in it too. It had been taken last summer, and showed her and Kate, with Kate’s huge black cat Ben sitting on the picnic rug between them. He was almost as tall as they were, when the girls were sitting down.

She laughed with surprise as a hard head butted her arm, and Ben stomped his way on to her lap to see exactly what she was doing. He’d been asleep at the end of Kate’s bed, but he’d obviously decided something interesting was happening. He was the world’s nosiest cat.

“Do you think he’ll mind moving?” Maddy asked, watching Kate fill a big cardboard box with books and her ornaments, all carefully wrapped up.