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The kitten scrabbled frantically and raked her tiny claws across Millie’s hand. The little girl dropped Jet in surprise, and the kitten shot out from under the table, and cowered in the corner of the kitchen, hissing furiously.

Millie howled, staring at the red scratch across the back of her hand.

“What happened?” Sarah ran into the kitchen, and Millie scrambled out from under the table. “Jet hurt me!” she wailed, holding out her hand.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_11]

“Jet did that?” Sarah turned to stare at the kitten. “Bad cat! You mustn’t scratch people!” She sounded really cross, and the kitten slunk guiltily out of the kitchen to find Mrs Jones, knowing that she would understand.

Mrs Jones was in her favourite armchair as usual. But Charlie was there too. Curled up cosily on Mrs Jones’s lap, looking as though he belonged there. Just where the kitten was meant to be.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_12]

Mrs Jones was dozing, and she didn’t see Jet, staring wide-eyed from the corner of the room. The kitten watched for only a second, then she ran back the way she’d come, past Millie still sobbing in the kitchen, and straight out of the cat flap.

Charlie wasn’t only taking her food now – he was taking Mrs Jones too.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_4]

Amy was up in the tree house, sitting by the door and looking out over the garden. She was drawing in the beautiful sketchbook that one of her aunts had given her for her birthday, with a set of new pencils too. She was trying to remember exactly what that gorgeous little kitten had looked like. She wished she had seen her closer up– she still wasn’t sure exactly what colour her eyes were. She hesitated between the two greens in her new pencil box. Probably the lighter one. Smiling to herself, she finished colouring the eyes, and wroteMisty in the bottom corner of the page.

Every time she went up to her tree house, Amy watched out for the kitten, but she hadn’t seen her for a couple of days. Maybe she had a home after all?

It was just as Amy was admitting to herself that the kitten might not come back, that she saw her again. She was walking carefully along the fence that ran across the back of Amy’s garden – almost underneath the tree house. Amy caught her breath. She watched as the little creature padded along the narrow boards of the fence, like a tightrope walker. She smiled proudly to herself, noting that she had made the kitten’s eyes exactly the right colour.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_13]

“Puss, puss, puss…” she called, very gently and quietly.

The kitten looked up, startled. She had been watching a white butterfly and hadn’t seen the girl at all. She tensed up, ready to run. This girl was calling her like Millie had – was she going to try and pull her about, or dress her up in dolls’ clothes?

But the girl didn’t move. She was sitting up in a strange little house in a tree. Her voice was different too. Quieter. She didn’t make the kitten feel nervous, like Dan and Millie did.

The girl moved, and the kitten stepped back a pace, wondering if she should leap down from the fence and race across the garden to safety– although she wasn’t quite sure where that was, now that Mrs Jones wasn’t hers any more.

But the girl didn’t try to grab her. She just shifted herself so that she was perched on the ladder, her arm trailing down. The kitten looked up. If she stretched, she could just brush the girl’s fingers with the side of her face. She could mark the girl with her scent. Her whiskers bristled with surprise at the idea that she might make this girl belong to her. She took a step closer, and then another, so that she could sniff the girl’s fingers.

Swiftly, daringly, the kitten nudged the girl’s hand. Then she leaped down from the fence and dashed back across the garden.

Chapter Four

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Amy laughed delightedly to herself, as she watched the little kitten scurrying away. She could still feel the cold smudge of its nose against her hand.

“She came back!” she whispered happily to herself. She gazed down at her drawing and sighed. Misty was so much prettier in real life. Amy was sure she was a girl kitten, she was so delicate looking. Her fur was midnight-black and glossy, not the dull black of a drawing. She was very thin, though. Amy thought that she might even be thinner than when she’d seen her last week. If Misty was getting thinner, did that mean she didn’t have an owner? Perhaps she’d got lost – Amy couldn’t imagine anyone abandoning such a beautiful kitten. How could they?

If she was a stray… Amy played with her hair thoughtfully. She knew her mum and dad had said she was too young to look after a cat, and that if she told them she’d found a stray kitten, they would want to take it to the cat shelter. But now she had the tree house. Her own special, secret place. A perfect little house to hide a kitten in.

Amy shook her head and sighed. It was only a silly dream. But dreaming was fun…

[Êàðòèíêà: img_4]