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Gran stared through the fence at the builders and their machines, and sighed.“I don’t know, Rosie. He could just be hidden away somewhere because he’s frightened. It’s so noisy, he might want to come out, but he doesn’t dare.” She put her arm round Rosie.

“Try the cat treats,” she suggested gently. “Why don’t you scatter a few through the fence? Maybe the smell will tempt him.” She helped Rosie tear open the tough packet. “Goodness, I should think he’d smell that from miles away, they’re very fishy, aren’t they?”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_19]

The treats did smell very strong, and Rosie pushed a few through the mesh of the fence. Then they waited, watching the builders in their bright yellow vests and hard hats as they cleared away the broken pieces of wood that were all that was left of the kitten’s home. But there was no sign of Ginger – no long, white whiskers peeping out from behind a hay bale, no ginger tail flicking round the corner of the farmhouse. He was nowhere to be seen. After ten minutes of waiting and calling, Gran turned to Rosie.

“It’s starting to rain harder, Rosie. We’d better go, but we’ll try again. Maybe your mum will bring you over tomorrow or on Sunday. We won’t give up.”

Rosie nodded, feeling slightly better. She would never give up on Ginger.

Even though he was only across the farmyard, Ginger hadn’t seen them. He was lurking under the abandoned tractor, shuddering each time the digger crashed and clanged through his old home. He had run out as soon as the builders had come into the barn, and had been hiding here ever since. He was wet, cold and hungry, and now he didn’t even have anywhere to sleep!

[Êàðòèíêà: img_20]

As the barn was flattened, Ginger came to a decision. This wasn’t his home any more. It hadn’t been his home since his family had gone – he realized now that his mother wasn’t coming back. He needed to get away, and find somewhere new.

Perhaps he could go and find that nice girl with the sandwiches?

[Êàðòèíêà: img_7]

Rosie’s mum took her back to the farm on Sunday, and they stood by the fence calling for ages.

“Put some more cat treats down,” Mum suggested. “Then at least he’ll have something to eat.”

Suddenly Rosie gasped.“Mum, look!”

“What is it? Have you spotted him? I can’t see anything.” Mum peered through the fence.

“No, that’s it, I can’t see anything, that’s the point! The cat treats I poked through the fence on Friday, they’ve gone!”

“Are you sure?” Mum asked.

“Definitely. I was right here, so they should be just on the other side of the fence. Ginger’s been here, he’s eaten them! Oh, Mum!” Rosie beamed at her, feeling so relieved. She bent down to empty some more cat treats out of the packet.

“Rosie, what’s that?” Rosie looked up to see her mum pointing across the farmyard, down to the side of the farmhouse. “Can you see? It looks like something ginger, by the bins…”

Rosie jumped to her feet. Mum was right. Slipping along the side of the farmhouse was a flash of gingery fur. It had to be him!

But then the creature slunk out further into the yard, sniffing at the piles of wood from the barn. A gingery fox, with a bright-white tail tip.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_21]

“Oh no…” Rosie breathed. It wasn’t very big, but compared to a tiny kitten it was huge. “It might hurt Ginger, and oh, Mum, I bet it was the fox who ate the cat treats!”

Mum sighed and nodded.“I’m afraid it could well have been, yes.”

Sadly, they turned and walked away, Rosie blinking back tears. She had promised herself she wouldn’t give up, but it was starting to look hopeless…

[Êàðòèíêà: img_7]

That evening, Rosie’s mum was determined to cheer her up. A television programme they both liked was just about to start and Mum hurried upstairs to fetch her.

“Rosie!” she called, opening her bedroom door. “Are you coming downstairs? Oh, Rosie!”

Rosie was sitting huddled on the floor, leaning against her bed.

“Whatever’s the matter?” Mum asked, sitting down on the floor beside her. “You’re crying!”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_22]

“I’ll never see him again.” Rosie sniffed. “What if he’s hurt?” she whispered. “He might have been injured when the barn was knocked down. Maybe he got trapped somewhere. Maybe that fox has eaten him!” Tears rolled down Rosie’s cheeks again.

“Ssshh, Rosie, don’t say that.” Mum hugged her close. “I don’t think foxes normally attack cats. You’re imagining the worst, the kitten might be fine. He’s probably just staying hidden because he’s frightened of the builders.” She looked down, stroking Rosie’s red hair. “You really love this kitten, don’t you? You’ve tried so hard to make friends with him – Gran told me how patient you were, trying to get him to like you.”

Rosie’s mum hesitated. “Rosie, you know, we could try adopting one of the other kittens at the rescue centre… What about that pretty little black one?”

Rosie looked up, her eyes horrified and still teary.“We can’t! We can’t, Mum!”

“I mean, if we don’t find Ginger,” her mum explained gently.