Charlie the Kitten Who Saved a Life Read online

  ‘I’m sorry we can’t take you with us, Charlie,’ Caroline was saying as she poured herself a glass of milk. ‘But I don’t think you’d like it anyway. And I don’t suppose we’ll be staying long, because of Jessica obviously.’

  In that case I was grateful to Jessica for once. I couldn’t think what I was going to do all day, apart from sleeping, which I supposed wasn’t such a bad idea.

  Everyone was soon downstairs having their breakfasts, so after I’d finished eating and washing, I shot upstairs quickly. I had this idea that if I hid under one of the beds, they might not find me when it was time to leave, and wouldn’t be able to shut me in the kitchen. The big bedroom was nice and sunny so I trotted in there. There was a lovely clean-sheet smell coming from Jessica’s strange new cot. I walked round it, sniffing appreciatively, then jumped up on the big bed next to it and looked down insideS. There was a nice fluffy white blanket in there, and a pink toy rabbit with silky ears. It all looked very cosy and tempting. It couldn’t hurt for me to have a little lie down in there, could it, while the baby wasn’t using it? I jumped down into it from the bed. The sheet was soft, and still warm from Jessica. I purred happily to myself as I started turning round and round to make a nice little nest for myself out of the blanket, finally snuggling down with my nose tucked up under my tail. With a bit of luck, they wouldn’t think to look for me in here and I could spend the day in comfort while they were out. I closed my eyes, still purring, and started to drift off into a dream …

  ‘CHARLIE!’

  The shriek was so loud and high-pitched, I nearly jumped out of my fur. Laura was standing next to the cot, staring down at me, a look of horror on her face.

  ‘What’s the matter? Where is he?’ I heard Julian shouting as he came up the stairs.

  ‘In the baby’s cot, for God’s sake! Look at him!’ She sounded close to tears. ‘You bad boy!’ she snapped at me. ‘Get out!’

  ‘Sorry,’ I meowed, getting up and stretching.

  ‘I said get out!’ she said again, reaching down and picking me up quite roughly. ‘Take him downstairs and shut him in the kitchen,’ she said to Julian, handing me over as if I was something disgusting she couldn’t bear the sight of. ‘I can’t have this, Julian – I’m going to have to strip the cot now and wash everything.’

  ‘Really?’ he said. ‘But surely—’

  ‘He was curled up on her sheet! In her blanket! With his head on her rabbit! There’ll be cat’s hairs and … and germs, and goodness knows what … on it all.’

  ‘He’s quite clean, Laura,’ Julian said gently. He gave me a little stroke as he said it, and I responded with a grateful meow. Of course I was clean! I’d only just washed myself that morning, hadn’t I! ‘It used to be you telling me cats were clean animals, remember? When I wouldn’t let Oliver get anywhere near Caroline, while she was ill?’

  ‘That was different,’ she said, although she didn’t explain why. She started taking the sheet and blanket out of the cot, inspecting them as if I might have put muddy paw prints on them.

  ‘Just give them a shake outside,’ Julian said. ‘It’ll only be a few hairs, if anything. He’s only been up here a few minutes.’

  ‘They’re going in the wash,’ she retorted, walking ahead of him out of the room. ‘And in future, keep this bedroom door shut, please.’

  My world was shrinking. Pretty soon the only place I was going to be allowed to go was my own bed. I could see it coming!

  The time passed slowly after they went out. For a while I sat by the washing machine, watching Jessica’s sheet, fluffy blanket and pink toy rabbit going round and round, but that quickly got boring. I jumped up onto the windowsill and looked out at the garden. It was frustrating not to be able to tell the birds to clear off. I growled at them from behind the window but I could tell they were laughing at me because I couldn’t get out. There was the usual chattering mob of starlings, a pair of nice ripe blackbirds and a fluttering of finches, but every now and then the whole congregation was scattered by a huge ugly intruder who flew in abruptly, landed amongst them and strutted through the crowd as if he owned the place. Seagulls. I’d seen them before, of course, flying high in the sky over Little Broomford, wheeling and diving and calling out rudely to each other. Older cats had told me these seagulls were usually making their way to the coast, or sometimes coming inland for a while to take shelter from a storm. But none seemed to live permanently around our parts so I’d never before seen them at such close quarters and, to be honest, the first time one landed in the cottage garden I was glad there was a window between us. I’d had no idea they were so big. His feet were huge, and his beak looked like it could swallow a little cat with one bite. I watched him waddle into the crowd of smaller birds, dispersing them just with a glare from his beady eyes, and found myself backing away slightly on my windowsill even though I knew I was safe.

  ‘Don’t be such a scaredy-cat, Charlie,’ I told myself sternly. ‘It’s just a bird! Since when have you been frightened of anything with feathers? You’ve eaten bigger things than him for breakfast!’

  That wasn’t strictly true. He would’ve been big enough for breakfast, lunch and dinner for several cats. But I couldn’t imagine trying to catch him anyway. His walk was even more ungainly than a stupid fat pigeon’s, but when he took off in flight it was with such a sudden ferocious flapping of his huge wings that all the other birds went rushing for cover, and he was instantly airborne, swooping aloft in the currents, calling back mockingly at those who were still on the ground. I’ve sometimes chased ducks as they take off from beside that big pond in my grounds. They’re always good for a laugh. When they take off after swimming on the water, they skim the surface quite gracefully, but on land it’s completely different. They have to take such a long, waddling run to get up into the air, it feels like I could bring one down with just a swipe of my paw. But this seagull wasn’t like that. There was something arrogant about him that made me quiver from head to tail. I didn’t like him. But however much I shouted at him from the window, I had a feeling he’d be back.

  I was glad to hear the family coming home at long last. Caroline came straight into the kitchen to see me.

  ‘Have you been lonely, Charlie boy?’ she crooned, squatting down to hug me.

  ‘Yes!’ I purred into her ear. ‘And there was this big seagull in the garden—’

  ‘We had to give up on our picnic and bring it home,’ she said, ignoring me. ‘The seagulls were dive-bombing us on the beach, trying to steal our sandwiches! Laura was going frantic about Jessica getting her fingers bitten.’

  I sat up, instantly alert. So I was right! Seagulls were bullies, aggressive yobs, just as I’d suspected. Trying to steal sandwiches from humans, indeed! Who did they think they were? Next time I saw one in the garden I’d … I’d … well, I’d growl and hiss at him from the window, that was for sure.

  ‘I won’t be taking her on that beach again, I can tell you that,’ Laura was saying as she came into the kitchen with Jessica in her arms. ‘The poor little mite was terrified.’

  ‘You were,’ Caroline said, half under her breath. ‘Jessica didn’t even notice.’

  ‘Caroline, put the kettle on, would you, please? And go and brush the sand off your shorts before you sit down in the lounge. I hope you left your shoes in the porch?’

  ‘Yes.’ Caroline went to the tap to fill the kettle. ‘Just a few stupid seagulls,’ she muttered to me. ‘You’d have seen them off, Charlie, wouldn’t you?’

  I was flattered by her confidence in me. But I wasn’t so sure she was right.

  A little later I was sunning myself on my windowsill, where Caroline had kindly put a cushion for me to sit, when there was a knock on the front door.

  ‘Who on earth can that be?’ Laura said. And then, as Julian opened the door, ‘Careful, darling, close the porch door first. Charlie hasn’t been shut in the kitchen.’

  ‘OK.’ I heard Julian respond. And then, ‘Oh, hello Mrs Grimshaw.’
/>   ‘Hello, love,’ came a stranger’s voice. ‘And call me Annie, please. Everyone does.’

  I jumped down from my perch and padded into the lounge to investigate.

  ‘So this is your kitty cat you were telling me about,’ the woman said as soon as she saw me. ‘Hello, little puss. Nice puss!’

  I swished my tail at her. For one thing I really object to being called Puss. I’m sure you all agree, it’s so patronising. If someone wants to say hello to you, why don’t they find out your name first? Also, I didn’t know yet whether she was friend or foe. She was short and plump, with a red face and a very loud voice that made her sound like she was shouting.

  ‘Charlie. His name’s Charlie,’ Caroline said, and I blinked my thanks at her.

  ‘Charlie. Right.’ The woman nodded. ‘Nice markings in his coat, hasn’t he?’

  ‘That’s because I’m a tabby, you silly female,’ I meowed. Didn’t she know anything?

  ‘He’s a tabby,’ Caroline said. ‘His father was a tabby, his mother was grey, so some of the kittens were like him and the others were—’

  ‘I see,’ the woman said, without waiting for Caroline to finish. ‘So, how are you all settling down?’

  ‘Good, thank you, er, Annie,’ Julian said. ‘The cottage is lovely.’

  I could see Caroline was looking as puzzled as I was about this loud voiced, red-faced person who was ignorant about cats. Julian must have noticed because he turned to her now and said, ‘Annie owns this cottage, Caroline. She lives next door. I picked up the key from her yesterday when we arrived.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ Caroline said politely.

  ‘It is lovely here,’ Laura agreed. ‘Such a beautiful beach. We were surprised it wasn’t more crowded.’

  Annie’s face went even redder.

  ‘Tell me about it!’ she boomed. ‘We’re not getting the usual number of visitors in Mudditon this year. The season looks to be a dead loss. To be fair, it’s not been too bad for me, as I get a lot of repeat bookings for the cottage, you see. But the hotels and the bed-and-breakfasts have suffered, and so have all the shops and the cafés.’ She shook her head. ‘Everyone’s having a bad time of it.’

  ‘Why?’ Julian said. ‘I mean, I know it’s a quiet little place but I thought it was usually very popular in the summer.’

  ‘It is, usually. Busting at the seams this time of year, until all this panic about the seagulls.’

  I saw Julian and Laura exchange a look.

  ‘We had seagulls coming after our sandwiches on the beach earlier,’ Julian said. ‘Has it been a problem here, then?’

  ‘I should’ve warned you,’ Annie said, shaking her head. ‘You’ll be all right if you don’t take food down there. They’ve got so cheeky, you see. Lost their fear of humans, they have. It’s because people feed them, if you want my opinion. They should just let them be – they’re wild birds, they’re supposed to find their own food, but now they’ve got a taste for ham sandwiches and ice creams.’

  ‘I don’t think we’d better go to the beach anymore, then, Julian,’ Laura said in a worried voice. ‘Not with Jessica being so tiny.’

  ‘But Annie said it’s OK if we don’t take food down there, Laura,’ Caroline said.

  ‘Yes. But of course, even if people are sitting outside the beach café, or in the pub garden, they’re getting gulls going after their lunches.’ Annie shook her head again. ‘It wouldn’t have been so bad if it weren’t for the media making so much of it.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Oh, you know what they’re like. The local paper ran a front page story, towards the end of last year’s season. Tourists under siege from aggressive gulls – with pictures of people cowering on the beach while seagulls swooped all round them. Next thing you know, South West News got hold of the story. Then it got into the national papers, and that was when the bookings for this year started dropping off, you see. People were coming out of the woodwork to complain about gulls making off with their doughnuts and biting their babies.’

  She stopped, glancing at Laura who was holding Jessica close to her as if she was in imminent danger of attack. ‘It was all being exaggerated, out of all proportion,’ she went on more quietly. ‘You’re safe here, honestly, love. Just, well, I wouldn’t eat outside, if you’re worried, that’s all.’

  Laura didn’t look particularly reassured. ‘I take it you didn’t hear about this before you decided we were coming here,’ she said to Julian in an accusing voice.

  ‘No, of course I didn’t. But as Annie says, it’s all been exaggerated anyway. Just a few seagulls, for goodness’ sake! What else do you expect, in a seaside town?’

  ‘That’s what I said,’ Caroline muttered, but everyone ignored her.

  ‘Well, it’s true the gulls are causing some problems, but it’s not as if Mudditon’s the only place it’s happened,’ Annie said. ‘And the council’s looking into ways of dealing with it. They’ve put up some notices telling people not to feed the gulls, but it’s not enough, in my opinion. They need to do more, or the tourism here is going to go completely down the pan.’

  ‘That’s a real shame,’ Julian said. ‘It’s such a nice little place.’

  ‘And people are going to lose their livelihoods, if it goes on.’ Annie sighed and looked around at us all. ‘Anyway, I just came to check you had everything you need.’

  ‘Yes, it’s very comfortable, thank you,’ Laura said a bit stiffly.

  ‘Well, look, please don’t let this spoil your holiday. As I said, just go inside to eat, to be on the safe side, and you’ll be fine.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Julian went to the door with her. ‘Poor woman’s worried about losing bookings herself, I imagine,’ he commented after she’d gone.

  ‘She should have told you about it when you booked the cottage!’ Laura retorted.

  ‘Come on, I’m sure she’s right that it’s all been exaggerated.’

  ‘Did it look exaggerated when those gulls attacked us on the beach? It was just pure luck Jessica didn’t get bitten!’

  ‘Well, now we know, we won’t take food to the beach in future. We could go inside the beach café tomorrow and treat ourselves to a nice lunch there. If it stays this hot, we won’t want to stay on the beach all day anyway. We don’t want Jessica getting too much sun, do we?’

  Laura nodded. ‘That’s true. OK, we’ll try the café tomorrow. Or we could come back and eat here, I suppose. I do feel a bit sorry for Charlie being shut up in here all day without any company.’

  I meowed with surprise. Somebody was actually considering my feelings! Caroline looked round at me and laughed.

  ‘I think Charlie agrees with that!’ she said. And then she looked at her father and added, ‘Please can I play games on your tablet, Dad, if we’re not going back to the beach?’

  ‘Yes, OK, for a little while,’ he said, passing her his computer thing.

  ‘Yes!’ she exclaimed happily, jumping up to take it from him. I couldn’t understand what the fuss was all about, but she seemed to get an enormous amount of pleasure from pressing that thing and watching pictures moving on it. She sat on the sofa with it and I jumped up onto her lap, purring contentedly. I hoped maybe my little family was starting to settle down now and get along better again. If only it would last!

  CHAPTER

  FIVE

  Are you all keeping up with my story so far? Good. What did you say, Smudge? When are we getting to the scary bit? Well, I’m building up the tension, aren’t I. Setting the scene. When we do get to the most exciting part, you’ll probably be the first one to turn tail and run off in fright!

  In any case I was just about to skip forward slightly in the story, because for a while nothing much changed. It was nice sunny weather, and every day they all went off to the beach while I stayed on my own in the kitchen. Sometimes they came back for lunch, sometimes they apparently ate in the café, wherever that was. It was boring. I spent a lot of time asleep. Caroline thought it was bori
ng too, even though she said she liked swimming in the sea. Swimming in the sea? I was quite alarmed for her, as you can probably imagine. We cats have never bothered with all that swimming malarkey, have we – what’s the point in getting wet all over? It’s bad enough if we get caught in the rain, or if we have an unfortunate accident and fall into a pond, which of course is embarrassing as well as being frankly horrible.

  The next Sunday – hard to tell what day it was, when nobody had been going to school or work, Julian packed his bag to go off back to Little Broomford. Laura looked sad when they said goodbye, and Caroline pleaded with him to take her back with him.

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ he said. ‘I’ll be going to work. You’ll have much more fun here, swimming every day.’

  But the following day it poured with rain. There was no going to the beach, and Laura was stressed because she’d run out of clean clothes for Jessica, the washer-drier machine in the cottage wasn’t very efficient and everything had to be finished off drying inside. I didn’t mind, of course, because after all, there’s nothing nicer than winding yourself up in clean warm towels and clothes hanging on an airer, is there? I was having a lovely time of it, unfortunately pulling a few things off the airer onto the floor in the process, but when Laura found me she was livid, moaning at me about having to wash things twice, and I ended up being shut in the kitchen again.

  Caroline was miserable too.

  ‘I wish I had a tablet or a laptop of my own,’ she complained to Laura. ‘Now Daddy’s taken his with him, I’ve got nothing whatsoever to do. If you’d even let me have a phone it would be better than nothing.’

  ‘You don’t need a phone, at your age,’ Laura said. ‘Why don’t you read a book?’

  ‘I was reading a book, on Daddy’s tablet. I was halfway through it and now he’s taken it away. Everyone my age has a tablet of their own. And a phone! It’s pathetic – I can’t even text my friends. I feel like a prisoner.’