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The Clever Little Kitten Page 3


  “Where’s William?” Mum asked, as Kitty burst in, aiming for the plate of biscuits. “And take your boots off!”

  Kitty sighed and sat down on the floor to take her wellies off. “Are they chocolate ones?”

  “Yes. Kitty, doesn’t William want a snack? He should probably come in anyway, it’s cold out there.” Mum looked out at the paddock. It was getting late now, and the bright sun had gone in, leaving a dingy, greyish afternoon. “Kitty, where is William?” Mum asked, her voice suddenly anxious.

  “I don’t know.” Kitty bit into her biscuit. “He walked the plank and a sea monster ate him.”

  Chapter Six

  The Finding Kitten

  Kitty went on eating her biscuit while Molly and her mum stared at her. Then Molly’s mum raced outside, calling anxiously for William.

  “Kitty!” Molly crouched down next to her sister and looked her in the eyes, very seriously. “Kitty, there isn’t really any such thing as sea monsters. Where did William go?”

  Kitty scowled, but then she looked down, as though she didn’t want to meet Molly’s eyes. “He went away … because I poked him with my sword.”

  “Sword?”

  “It was only a stick. He did it to me too!” Kitty complained. “I didn’t start crying and run away.”

  “I can’t see him anywhere…” Mum came back in looking really worried.

  “They had an argument and William went off somewhere,” Molly told her.

  “Where, Kitty?” Mum asked. “Did he go home? Janie hasn’t called me to say he’s turned up.”

  “Don’t know,” Kitty muttered. She looked sulky. “He’s not my friend any more.”

  “Kitty, William might be lost,” Mum said. She was trying not to sound too upset, Molly could tell. She didn’t want to scare Kitty. But her voice was a bit wobbly with worry. “Please try and think which way he went.”

  “He’s not lost…” Kitty looked up, her eyes suddenly wide. “He was cross. He went away!” She stood up and looked around the kitchen anxiously as though she thought William might appear out of one of the cupboards. (Which wasn’t such a silly idea, knowing William.) “He’s not lost, is he?” she asked, her voice quavering like Mum’s had.

  Lost? Molly thought at once of Posy – she would be able to help find William! Molly blinked, and turned slowly to look at the kitchen door, which Mum had left open when she ran back in.

  A small stripy tabby face was peering around the edge of the door. Posy’s whiskers were shimmering already, and she was looking hopefully at Molly.

  I could hear something was wrong, all the way down the lane! Something very important must be lost, Molly. I’ve been practising with your bag of things. Please can I help?

  Molly nodded, but put a finger to her lips to remind Posy to be careful in front of Mum and Kitty.

  “I’m going to look round the paddock,” she told Mum, who was still trying to get Kitty to tell her exactly what had happened.

  “All right.” Mum smiled at her distractedly. “Thanks, Molly.”

  Molly put her coat on and hurried out, with Posy twirling around her feet excitedly, nearly tripping her up. Molly noticed that there was a splash of yellow paint on the tip of her tail – as if she’d tried to join in the decorating.

  What are we looking for? Posy demanded. Why were your mum and your little sister so upset?

  “We can’t find William,” Molly explained, looking anxiously at Posy.

  My William? Posy sounded horrified.

  “Yes! I’m really sorry. He and Kitty got into a fight about their game…”

  Posy nodded, as though she wasn’t that surprised. He ran away?

  “Yes, and we don’t know where. Can you feel him, Posy?”

  The kitten looked around, her glowing whiskers waving in the greyish afternoon light. Molly had never seen any other cat move its whiskers quite like that. It was as if they were tasting the air, searching for William.

  I’ve never looked for a person before, she said uncertainly. It’s different. I’m not sure how…

  Molly swallowed, trying to sound calm and not panicky. “Perhaps if you think about William?” she suggested. “And then send your magic after him?”

  Posy laid her ears back a little. This morning he spilled a bowl of cornflakes on my head.

  “Oh…” It was probably because she was worried about William, but Molly wanted so much to laugh. She could just imagine Posy covered in cornflakes. “And milk?”

  Yes. Actually, the cornflakes tasted quite nice.

  “Could you think about cornflakes, then? And William’s big red tractor? That’s his favourite toy.”

  Posy sat down in the middle of the paddock, and Molly could almost feel her thinking. Her fur ruffled out so that it was all on end, and Molly remembered the day she’d first met Posy at the surgery. Then she hadn’t known what to do with her magic. And now, hopefully…

  Molly gave a little gasp. Posy was covered in sparkling silver magic now, like a little firework kitten.

  Her magic had grown so much stronger. Molly was sure her memory game had helped. Molly sniffed suddenly. She could smell cornflakes on the air, and sweet milk, and her hair felt suddenly sticky. A spell was working all around them…

  Posy stood up and marched across the paddock. She was so little that she half-disappeared in the long frosty grass, and she could walk right underneath the orchard fence, without her tail-tip even touching it. Molly had to scramble over the top to follow her.

  The orchard looked strange and ghostly now that it was getting dark – there was a thin mist weaving around the black trees, and it was very quiet.

  “Are you sure?” Molly asked Posy, trying not to sound doubtful. “It’s a bit frightening in here.”

  William likes frightening things, Posy pointed out. Spiders. And dinosaurs. He plays with those a lot. They could live somewhere like this.

  Molly nodded. That was probably true. “But if he’s only in the orchard, why didn’t he come when Mum called him?”

  Posy stopped, staring proudly up into one of the largest apple trees, one with long, curling branches that swept down almost to the ground. Right in the middle of the tree, snuggled up close to the trunk, was William.

  He was cosily wrapped up in his big scarlet jacket, and gloves, and his woolly scarf, and he was fast asleep.

  That’s why, Posy said proudly. I found him, Molly!

  Molly picked her up and hugged her. “You’re so clever! You’re a star, Posy.” She giggled. “I suppose it’s tiring being eaten by a sea monster.” She turned, hurrying back through the trees to the fence. “Mum! Mum! I’ve found him!”

  Molly leaned on the fence, watching her mum and Kitty racing towards them, and dabbed a light little kiss on Posy’s soft head. “Well done, Posy. That was brilliant magic.”

  Posy purred, and slipped out of Molly’s arms like a tiny grey shadow, heading back home.

  I know…

  www.holly-webb.com

  www.scholastic.co.uk/zone

  HOLLY WEBB loves the idea of World Book Day - a whole day that’s all about reading!

  Her dream job as a child was to be a librarian, so she could sit in the library and read everything. She never thought about being a writer, she was a reader. Books were the ultimate adventure for a shy child who wasn’t very good at running fast or climbing things.

  It wasn’t until Holly was much older that she discovered the pleasure of writing, too. Now Holly loves the thought that people are curled up with one of her books, imagining themselves into another world. (Though she thinks running and climbing are great too. Books are even better read halfway up a tree!)

  Holly lives in Reading with her husband, three sons and a cat who isn’t quite as troublesome as Posy.

  Scholastic Children’s Books

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  First published in the UK by Scholastic Ltd., 2012

  This electronic edition published by Scholastic Ltd., 2012

  Text copyright © Holly Webb, 2012

  Illustration copyright © Erica Jane Waters, 2012

  The rights of Holly Webb and Erica Jane Waters to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work

  has been asserted by them.

  eISBN 978 1407 13287 7

  A CIP catalogue record for this work is available from the British Library.

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  Produced in the UK by Quadrum

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  www.holly-webb.com