The Saddest Kitten Read online

  Except she wanted to spend longer than a few minutes fussing over both cats. And just then Sienna decided that Chloe’s purple pen was nicer than hers and snatched it, and Chloe thought the best answer to that was to sweep all the pens off the table on to the floor…

  So that wasn’t happening.

  “When Dad gets back from the supermarket,” Isla’s mum promised, hurrying to stop Sienna grabbing Chloe’s drawing before she could rip it up.

  “OK…” Isla sighed. Dad would be ages doing the big weekly shop and she’d told Hailey she’d absolutely, definitely go round at lunchtime.

  Isla trailed out into the hallway and sat down on the stairs, where she could watch through the frosted glass in the front door for the car drawing up.

  Sometimes she could really do without her little sisters.

  After a few minutes sitting there with her chin on her hand, Isla realized that she was staring vaguely at the big key hanging on the wall beside the front door. It had a row of little hooks on it, and it was where her mum and dad hung up their door keys, and any other keys they had, like the spare key for her nan’s house – and the key to Hailey’s front door.

  It was just there, right in front of her.

  And it would be helpful if she went by herself, wouldn’t it? Mum and Dad were both busy, so why give them the bother of having to go with her?

  By this time, Isla had almost convinced herself that it was her duty to go, right now. Chloe and Sienna having another meltdown in the kitchen – because Sienna had tried to write her name and written the S the wrong way round – only made the decision even easier.

  The kitten crouched in the darkness behind a basket of scarves and mittens. The house felt so strange without any of the family there. It creaked and echoed, and Silky’s tail twitched. They had all been out before, but perhaps only for a few moments, or when she’d still been kept in one room by herself. This felt different.

  She didn’t know where Pickle was. The fur along her spine kept lifting every time she heard a noise and wondered if it was him, getting ready to leap out at her and cuff her with one of his massive paws.

  A sharp rattling made her ears prick up. The sound of a key in the door. Perhaps the family had come back? Silky stood up, edging out from behind her basket and padding hopefully towards the line of pale light that was the door to the cupboard. This cupboard under the stairs was usually kept shut, but when she had finally made it to the bottom of the stairs Silky had seen that it was ajar and sneaked in. It was dark and quiet and it felt safe. Safe places were important now.

  She peered round the edge of the cupboard, watching as the front door swung open. She expected to see Hailey run in but it was a different child. Different but familiar. She had met Isla before, though always with Hailey. What was the girl doing here?

  Perhaps she wouldn’t come out, not yet, Silky thought. She’d just watch.

  “Silky! Pickle!” Isla called, her voice low. Silky knew her name but she didn’t always answer to it, not unless it was someone calling her for food. She squished herself a little closer to the door of the cupboard, her whiskers quivering as she watched Isla. The girl was pulling something out of her pocket – it looked like a bundle of string and ribbons. And it bounced!

  Without even thinking about it, Silky darted out from behind the cupboard door. The ribbons danced and sparkled and she wanted them. She heard Isla laugh and say, “Oh, there you are!” but the kitten wasn’t listening. She was sitting up on her hind paws, batting at the dangling ribbons.

  “Do you like them? I put them on elastic so they’d jump about. I got it out of Mum’s basket of sewing stuff. Oooooh, you caught it! Wow, big jump, Silky.”

  Silky leaped up again, flailing her paws at the ribbons as they flashed past her nose. She landed on the hall carpet with a thump, the ball of ribbons squashed underneath her, and she rolled around with it, growling fiercely and chewing at the bright strands.

  “Do you like it then?” Isla crouched down next to her and Silky could hear the warmth in her voice. “I made it for you. For Pickle too, but mostly you. Hailey says Pickle’s not that interested in toys any more.”

  Silky rolled on to her back, still clutching the fluffy ball of ribbons, and rubbed the side of her head against Isla’s outstretched hand. This was good. She liked being fussed over.

  Isla laughed in delight and tickled under the kitten’s chin. “You’re so soft,” she murmured. “Such long fur. I should have asked Hailey if I ought to brush you. Do you like being brushed, mmm?” She smoothed her hand over the kitten’s fur. Silky was the perfect name for her.

  There was a soft click from the kitchen – so quiet that Isla hardly even noticed it. But Silky sprang up at once, twisting back on to her paws and standing ready, shoulders hunched. Her fluffy tail seemed to get even fluffier and Isla saw her turn sideways. She was making herself look bigger, Isla realized, looking worriedly towards the kitchen.

  Isla had never been afraid of Pickle – even though he was really big. He was such a friendly cat, and cuddly, and she’d never seen him scratch anyone.

  Now, stalking in from the kitchen, he looked very different. He’d lowered his head and his ears were flattened. The fur along his back had lifted up in spikes and he was hissing, no, more than hissing – it was a deep, throaty growl. He seemed about six times the size of Silky. He looked terrifying.

  “Pickle, no…” Isla said helplessly, wondering what she ought to do. She couldn’t pick him up, not if he didn’t want her to, not with only one hand. She could probably pick up Silky, though, since she was so small. But, before she could grab Silky out of Pickle’s way, the big cat had surged forwards and smacked the kitten hard with a clawed paw.

  Silky squeaked, rolling over out of his way. She hissed, trying to sound fierce, but she was so tiny it was obvious that she couldn’t really fight back.

  “Stop it!” Isla yelled as Pickle went to whack the little kitten again. “No! Bad cat, leave her alone!”

  Pickle hardly seemed to notice.

  Isla jumped in between them and tried to flap her hand to shoo him away. Pickle hissed again, furious, and darted round Isla. But Silky had taken her chance and shot back into the cupboard under the stairs.

  Isla slammed the door shut before Pickle could get in there after her – she couldn’t imagine trying to break up a cat fight inside a cupboard. It would be awful!

  She glared at Pickle. “I know you don’t want her here,” she told him, “but that was just mean! She’s tiny! How could you be so horrible?”

  Pickle ignored her. He went to sniff at the cupboard door, growling very quietly, almost as though he was saying nasty things under his breath.

  “Now what do I do?” Isla muttered, eyeing him anxiously. She was only supposed to be here for a few minutes to check up on them. Mum and Dad didn’t even know where she was! But she couldn’t leave the two cats like this, with Silky shut in a cupboard and Pickle on the warpath.

  She was stuck.

  At that moment, the front door bell rang, followed by a loud knocking on the door. Isla bit her lip. She was pretty sure she knew who that was. She hurried to open the door and found her mum on the doorstep, looking panicked.

  “Isla! You… I don’t know what to say! I didn’t know where you’d gone!” Her mum suddenly hugged her so tightly that Isla squeaked. “Don’t you ever do that again! We couldn’t find you, and then I realized the key had gone. How could you just disappear? I told you I’d come with you as soon as Dad was back.”

  “I promised Hailey,” Isla said, her voice muffled in her mum’s T-shirt. “I said I’d go at lunchtime and we’d already had lunch. It was nearly two o’clock, Mum!” She pulled away from the hug. “And I was right to be worried. The cats just had a massive fight. It was awful.”

  “Silky and Pickle?” Isla’s mum looked around and saw Pickle sitting by the cupboard door, eyeing her curiously. “Oh no, are they OK? Pickle looks all right. Where’s Silky?”

  “In th
e cupboard! Pickle was attacking her and she ran in there, so I shut the door to keep him away. But what do we do now?”

  “Oh, Pickle…” Isla’s mum looked thoughtful. “Perhaps we could put him in the kitchen. Has he got somewhere comfy to sleep in there?”

  Isla nodded. “His bed’s by the radiator. And he’d be able to go out through the cat flap – I think he’d really hate being shut in the house. Silky’s not been going out all that long. She probably won’t mind so much.”

  “Yes, and it’s only until they all come back tomorrow.” Isla’s mum sighed. “Julie said that she thought the cats were starting to settle down together. I hope we’re doing the right thing splitting them up.”

  “You didn’t see Pickle, Mum. He was so angry!” Isla assured her. “It might be OK if there was someone here to keep an eye on them, but not when they’re on their own.”

  “I know. Don’t worry, Isla. It’s for the best. He still looks upset now. Pickle…” Isla’s mum crouched down and called to him. “Come on, sweetie. Leave the kitten alone.”

  Pickle looked at her but he didn’t move, and Isla’s mum sighed. “I hope he’s not going to scratch,” she murmured.

  “He wouldn’t!” Isla said, trying to sound reassuring. “He’s a nice cat…”

  Isla’s mum scooped Pickle up gently, supporting him underneath, the same way Hailey did. Isla was a bit surprised – she hadn’t realized that her mum knew how to look after a cat. Pickle looked quite surprised too, but he didn’t scratch or hiss. He let Isla’s mum shut him up in the kitchen without complaining.

  As soon as the kitchen door was closed, Isla opened the cupboard under the stairs. She was expecting Silky to pop out at once but there was no sign of the kitten. Isla crouched down to peer inside. She didn’t put the light on in case it scared the little cat, but she could sort of see in the light from the hallway.

  “Is she all right?” Isla’s mum said.

  “I can’t see her… Oh! There she is, behind the basket. The poor thing’s shaking…” Isla crawled into the cupboard a little way and picked up the kitten, cuddling Silky against her front. She felt so small, like a shivery little bundle of bones and fur. “Do we have to go back home just yet?” Isla asked her mum. “I don’t want to leave her like this.”

  “No, we can stay a bit longer. Chloe and Sienna are helping Dad put the shopping away – you know they like that.” Her mum kneeled down beside Isla and looked anxiously at the kitten. “She’s not hurt, is she?”

  “No, I think she’s just scared.” Isla could feel Silky’s heartbeat thudding against her fingers. The three of them sat quietly, Isla gently stroking Silky and her mum leaning against the wall, watching.

  “You’re very good with her,” Isla’s mum said after a little while. “She looks like she’s calming down a bit.”

  “So were you! I mean with Pickle, the way you picked him up. You knew just how to hold him.”

  “I like cats,” her mum said, smiling. “We used to have a lovely big black cat like Pickle when I was growing up. He was called Oliver.” She reached over and gently stroked the top of Silky’s head with one finger. “Isla, would you like us to get a cat?”

  Isla stared at her. “You know I would!” she said at last. “I’ve asked and asked, but you always said no because of Sienna and Chloe.”

  “I think they’re nearly old enough to be sensible with one now,” her mum said. “They’re starting school in September. They’re getting big.”

  “Would Dad like us to have a cat?” Isla said.

  “Mmmm, well, I talked to him about it and he wasn’t totally sure, but he said maybe.” Her mum smiled. “I reckon we could convince him. Perhaps we could go to the same shelter that Hailey and her family got Silky from. What do you think?”

  “That would be amazing…” Isla smiled up at her.

  But deep inside there was a tiny sad thought – if only Mum had said that a few weeks ago! We could have been the ones to adopt Silky. She would be living with us and not having to hide from Pickle…

  Isla kept going back to check on Pickle and Silky, but they both seemed happy enough as long as they were kept apart. She moved Silky’s food and water bowls, and a litter tray, into the hall, so she had everything she needed. Hailey had said that she was very good at using a litter tray, so Isla was sure she’d be OK, even though she couldn’t go out in the garden.

  Isla just hoped Hailey’s mum and dad wouldn’t mind. She kept an eye out for their car on Sunday afternoon, checking to see if it was in the driveway, and as soon she spotted it, she asked her dad if it was OK to pop round and explain.

  “Of course you can. I’m sure they won’t mind, though. Do you want me to come with you?”

  Isla shook her head. “No, it’s OK. I won’t be long.”

  She hurried down the road and rang Hailey’s doorbell. There were racing footsteps and then Max flung the door open and yelled, “Hailey! It’s Isla!” and dashed off again.

  Hailey came down the stairs and Isla said, “Hello! Was it a good party?”

  “It was really good, I stayed up till half past one!”

  Hailey looked tired, though, Isla thought. She was very pale and there were dark shadows under her eyes. “Wow! Lucky! Um, I just wanted to explain about the cats being in separate rooms.”

  Hailey looked surprised. “I hadn’t noticed. Although Mum did mention that Silky’s bowls had been moved into the hallway.”

  “Pickle and Silky had a big fight on Saturday – he chased her into the cupboard under the stairs and I was really worried, so me and Mum put the litter tray and bowls out in the hall for Silky, and shut Pickle in the kitchen. I hope that’s OK?”

  Hailey nodded. “Thanks, Isla. But I’m sure they would have been all right,” she added.

  Isla bit her lip. She didn’t think so. “You didn’t see Pickle,” she said slowly. “He was so angry with Silky. It was scary.”

  “Pickle’s not scary!” Hailey said indignantly. “He’s a lovely cat.”

  “Yes, I know… But…”

  “But what?” Hailey snapped.

  Isla didn’t know what to say. She knew Hailey adored Pickle and hated to think that he was fierce, but Silky had been so terrified. She felt as though she had to stick up for the little kitten. “But Pickle really hates sharing his house. You were the one who told me that!”

  “And I said he’ll get used to it!” Hailey was suddenly yelling. “It’s none of your business anyway. Pickle’s my cat, and so’s Silky! You should just keep your nose out of it! I wish I’d never let you come and look after them!”

  Isla felt hot and prickly all over. Hailey looked so angry – her fists were clenched and there were red spots on her cheeks. Isla didn’t think she’d ever seen her like that before.

  She made a sort of stifled gasping noise and then turned and ran back down the street towards her house. She’d left the front door on the latch so she just pushed it open and then raced inside, flinging herself down on a beanbag in the living room. She couldn’t stop crying.

  Silky cowered back against the bottom step of the stairs. She hated shouting almost as much as she hated Pickle’s scary hissing noises. Usually she loved being around Hailey and Isla. They were so gentle, and they’d spend ages fussing over her and playing with her and feeding her cat treats. But now she could feel the anger buzzing between them and it was setting her whiskers tingling.

  She watched Isla stumble down the path and then Hailey turned away from the door and buried her face in the coats hanging from hooks on the wall. Her shoulders were heaving. Silky eyed her for a moment and then slipped out of the open door into the front garden. She could hear Isla’s footsteps on the pavement and she darted after her. She peered round the edge of Isla’s front wall just in time to see the door slam as Isla ran inside.

  Silky looked back along the street, wondering what to do. Right now, she didn’t want to go back to Hailey’s house. Pickle was there, and so was Hailey, and at the moment Hailey just ma
de her think scary and loud.

  Isla, though – Isla had rescued her from Pickle and then held her so gently, stroking her and whispering until Silky’s heart had stopped hammering inside her. Silky padded into Isla’s garden, stepping carefully over the crunchy gravel, and looked thoughtfully at the door. There was no way in there but there was a little path round the side of the house.

  Silky went to investigate, pressed close against the wall, tail held low. She wasn’t sure if there was another cat here, ready to jump out at her. She made it all the way to a small, sunny garden and her ears pricked forwards. The sunny patches looked so inviting and there was a butterfly swooping low over the grass. Silky forgot about Isla and Hailey and the shouting, and dashed after it, making a ballet-dancer leap in the middle of the lawn. But the butterfly twirled away over the fence, leaving the small kitten far below.

  Silky shook her whiskers crossly and then stopped dead still, staring at the house. The back door was open and there were good smells coming out. Perhaps Isla was in there and would make a fuss of her like she had the day before.

  The back door led into the kitchen, which Silky thought was empty – it was certainly very quiet. Cautiously, she pattered up to the back step and hopped inside. She stood there, eyes wide and ears swivelling. She froze as someone began to whistle quietly on the far side of the kitchen – Isla’s dad was making dinner. But he was looking down at the vegetables he was chopping and didn’t see a small, striped kitten pad quietly across the room and into the hallway.

  There Silky stood, looking around uncertainly. She could go upstairs but that would take a lot of effort. She knew about stairs and she much preferred to have someone carry her up and down. Otherwise there were a couple of doors she could try. One sounded rather noisy – she could hear giggling and banging and some sort of squeaky toy – and she wasn’t sure about that at all. The other room was quieter. But as she stood there, listening, she caught a strange hiccupy sort of noise, muffled and sad.