The Secret Kitten

Lucy looked at her uncertainly. “Isn’t it fragile?” she asked worriedly. She wanted to hold it – she could see that the painting on it was beautiful, a black cat wearing a jewelled necklace and even an earring, it looked like.

“I know you’ll be careful.” Gran smiled at her. “I ought to get it framed, really, it’s such a lovely painting. The box at the side says my name in hieroglyphics. I watched the man doing it.”

Lucy took the papyrus, feeling the roughness against her fingers. She could even see the lines of the reed stems in the weave. “The cat’s so beautiful,” she murmured. Then she grinned up at Gran. “I can’t see many cats agreeing to wear all that jewellery, though. Most of them don’t even like collars!”

Gran nodded. “But then she’s a goddess, this one. Bast, she’s called.”

Lucy examined the picture again. “There was a cat goddess? Wow… Gran, I could make my project about her!” Very carefully, she laid the papyrus down on the table so she could fling her arms around her gran. “I could copy the painting, maybe. You’re so clever!”

As she hugged Gran tightly, Lucy realized something else. Gran couldn’t possibly dislike cats that much, could she? Not when she’d chosen a painting of a cat as a special souvenir.

The black-and-white kitten was enjoying a patch of sunlight in the yard. Her mother was off looking for food and the little kitten was stretched out, snoozing, with her nose on her paws.

Her ears fluttered a little as she caught a noise, coming from the back of one of the shops, and then her eyes snapped open. Someone was coming!

She darted back into the safety of the box den, her heart thudding fast against her ribs. The voices were loud, frightening even, and there were heavy feet clumping all around her.

She pressed herself back into the corner of the box, thinking that they would just dump their rubbish in the bins and go. But no one usually came close to the pile of old boxes like this. It wasn’t a delivery – no van had driven down the alleyway. She was almost used to that noise, although she still didn’t like it.

This was something different. And then suddenly the box, her safe, warm box, shifted and split and she let out a high-pitched squeak of fright. What was happening?

“There’s something in there,” a deep voice growled. “Ugh, not rats?”

“I don’t think so – oh, there’s a stray cat that hangs around the yard – perhaps it’s her?”

Someone clapped their hands loudly, the sound sharp and echoing in the enclosed yard. “Go on, shoo! Off you go, cat!”

The kitten squeaked again and her box tipped sideways. She shot out, terrified, and streaked across the yard, away from the growling voices.

“There she goes – but that’s just a kitten. Not much bigger than a rat, poor little thing!”

The kitten huddled in the corner, panicking. Someone was coming towards her, huge boots thumping. She had never tried to climb the fences before, but anything was better than staying here. She sank her claws in the wood and scrabbled frantically upwards, balancing for a moment on the very top of the fence. Then she jumped down the other side and set off through the bushes, who knew where.

Lucy was stretched out in the long grass, idly picking the blades. She’d done her homework and typed up loads of work for her project on the computer. She felt relaxed and happy in the autumn sun. Gran had given her a sandwich, to keep her going until Dad got home and they could all have dinner together, but Lucy hadn’t finished it – she was feeling too lazy even to eat.

She could hear William right down the end of the garden, humming to himself as he investigated the greenhouse. Gran didn’t use it very much these days and some of the glass panes were broken, but Dad had told them he’d plant seeds in the springtime. He’d already tidied up the bit of the garden nearest to the house, but Lucy and William loved this wild part, with the overgrown bushes. It was full of hidden nests and little dark caves. Lucy glanced sideways, checking that the big spotted garden spider hanging off the branch by her foot hadn’t moved. She didn’t mind him being there – he’d probably lived here longer than she had – but she didn’t want him getting any closer.

He was still there. But underneath him, peering out at her from the shadows, was a tiny black-and-white face.

A kitten! The same kitten she had seen in the alleyway, Lucy was almost sure. She looked down the garden at the greenhouse and the fence. She hadn’t realized before, but the shops were very close to the back of Gran’s garden, even though to get to them by the street you had to go quite a way round.

“Did you climb over the fence?” Lucy whispered, very, very quietly.

The kitten stared back at her. She was very small and so thin, Lucy thought. She looked exhausted – as though she was frightened, but too worn out even to run.

Slowly, creeping her fingers across the grass, Lucy stretched out a hand to get her sandwich. It was chicken. Perfect for a kitten treat.