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It had been five days. Nearly a week. Perhaps after a week, they’d let Misty go out into the garden? Maybe she’d come walking along the fence again, and Amy could at least stroke her. That wouldn’t do any harm, would it? As long as Amy didn’t feed her, no one could say she was trying to tempt her back. Even just seeing her would be enough. All she wanted was to know that Misty was all right.

Mum was calling her for tea. Amy looked hopefully along the fence as she climbed down the ladder, but there was no Misty trotting along to see her.

She sat down at the kitchen table, picking at her pasta and staring at the newspaper ad that Mum had ringed.“Kittens, eight weeks old. Tabby and white.” Amy didn’t want a tabby and white cat. She wanted a black one. A very particular black one.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_4]

“Has Charlie finished his dinner, Sarah? Can we let Jet in?” Mrs Jones was peering round the kitchen door, with Jet in her arms.

Charlie looked up at her and hissed crossly. He hadn’t finished, and he didn’t want that kitten anywhere near his food.

“Oh, Charlie,” Sarah sighed. “They really aren’t getting on any better, are they?”

Mrs Jones shook her head.“I’m beginning to wonder if I did the right thing,” she admitted, her voice sad. “Maybe I should have let that little girl keep her. You could see she was heartbroken when she brought Jet back.”

“But you’d miss her!” Sarah protested.

“Of course I would! But I think she’d be well looked after. And we still have Charlie. He’s a lovely boy, he just doesn’t like sharing his house…”

Sarah nodded.“Oh, he’s finished.” She picked up Charlie, and took him over to the door to put him out.

Misty watched as Sarah began to open the door, and her whiskers trembled with sudden excitement. The garden! The fence! And along the fence, just waiting for her, was Amy’s garden, and Amy’s house, and Amy.

She wriggled frantically, and made the most enormous leap out of Mrs Jones’s arms. She shot out of the door before Sarah could even think to shut it.

She was going home.

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Amy sighed, and stared down at her homework. She was supposed to be writing about her favourite place, but the only place she could think of was the tree house, with Misty curled up on the beanbag. A sudden scuffling at the kitchen window made her look up.

“Misty!” Dad exclaimed, looking up from the pan he was stirring on the hob.

Amy ran to the door to let her in. She knelt down and swept Misty up into her arms. Misty purred gleefully, rubbing her face against Amy’s.

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Amy was laughing, and half-crying at the same time.“She came back,” she murmured, and Misty licked her hand gently. Amy’s dad tickled Misty under the chin, then her mum came over to stroke her, too.

“Mum, do we have to…?” Amy asked miserably. “She’s so happy to be here…” She looked pleadingly over at her dad, but he shook his head sadly.

Her mum sighed.“I know. I wish we could just keep her, but it wouldn’t be fair. She doesn’t belong to us.” She picked up the phone.

“Mrs Jones? It’s Emily Griffiths here. Yes, I’m afraid we’ve got Misty again. Sorry, I mean Jet.”

Amy sat down on one of the kitchen chairs, and stroked Misty as she watched her mum miserably.

Her dad put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Maybe Mrs Jones was going out, Amy thought. Maybe it wouldn’t be a good time to bring Misty back, and they could keep her for just one night. But that would be worse, wouldn’t it? She’d never be able to give her up then.

Misty wriggled indignantly as a tear fell on her head, and then another.

“Really?” The note of surprise in her mum’s voice made Amy look up. “Well, if you’re sure. We’d be delighted.”

Amy stared at her, sudden hope making her feel almost sick. She watched her mother put down the phone and turn around, beaming.“That was the first time Misty had been out, Amy. She came straight back to you. Mrs Jones says that she obviously thinks she’s your cat now, and it isn’t fair to keep her. She’s given Misty to you.” She hugged them all – Amy and Misty and Dad together. “Well, we promised you a kitten, didn’t we?”

“Oh, Mum! Wait a minute.” Amy pressed Misty gently into her dad’s arms, and dashed upstairs, then raced back down again and into the kitchen, with something pink in her hand.

Carefully, she fastened Misty’s collar back on. “You’re really ours now. You’re here to stay,” Amy murmured, taking the kitten from Dad.

Snuggling against Amy’s neck, Misty closed her eyes and purred – a tiny, happy noise. She was home!