The Mystery Kitten

“You probably don’t want to come out just yet,” Elsa said thoughtfully. She lay down on her front, and then slowly, slowly crept her hand under the bed. The kitten gave a breathy little squeak of fear.

“It’s OK. Just leaving this for you.” She dropped the bit of ham about halfway under the bed – not too close to the kitten. The poor thing was scared enough already. Then she squirmed back and watched hopefully. Was the kitten brave enough to come and get the food?

The kitten eyed the ham suspiciously for a moment, but he could smell it and it smelled so good. He measured the distance between him and the food and the girl. She was very close… But even as he was thinking it, he found himself creeping forward. He was just too hungry to wait. He gobbled down the scrap of ham with one eye firmly on the girl – if she moved, he could dart back. But she didn’t, she was absolutely still and quiet. And she had more food. He could see it on the plate right in front of her. More meat and something else…

The girl moved her hand and the kitten scuttled back, but she wasn’t reaching out to grab him. All she did was tear off another piece of ham and drop it gently, just at the edge of the safe space under the bed. Closer to her this time.

The kitten took a little longer to decide what to do, but the smell of food was so enticing it made him forget that he was frightened. He padded forward, step by slow step, and gulped down the second piece. Then he sat, almost out in the open, peering forward at the plate. There was a lot more ham left – more than he’d had already. And whatever the other stuff was smelled just as good – rich and salty and delicious.

The girl whispered something, her voice gentle, and she reached for the food, crumbling the good-smelling stuff and scattering it on the floor right in front of him. He’d only have to set one paw out beyond the shelter of the bed. Just one paw.

He edged out, pressed low to the ground, his shoulders hunched up into nervous points. His pink tongue darted out, sweeping up the scraps of cheese, and his eyes widened delightedly at the taste. Was there more of it? He stared hopefully at the girl and then laid his ears back a little as she held out her hand to him, the delicious stuff right there in her palm.

So now he had to go close…

He put out another paw and shook himself as he came into the light of the room. The girl was just there, with the food so temptingly on her hand. If she moved suddenly, he could dash back to the bed, couldn’t he? He crept all the way over to her and began to lick up the crumbs of cheese.

Elsa swallowed her giggles – the kitten was tickling her, its tongue working carefully over her fingers, making sure to find every tiny crumb. “Is the cheese good?” she murmured, wishing she could stroke it. The fur was a soft, fluffy sort of black, not smooth and shiny like some black cats. But perhaps that was only because it was so little. Its tongue was bright, bright pink against the black of its fur.

“What about the rest of the ham?” she whispered gently. “Shall I tear it up?” She reached out her other hand and picked up the half slice that was left, but the kitten didn’t wait for her to make nice bite-sized pieces. It scrambled up on to her knee and grabbed for the food, trying to gulp down the whole lot in one go.

Elsa sat like a statue. She hoped the kitten wasn’t going to make itself sick, gobbling like that. It must be so hungry. When it had finished, the pink tongue worked thoroughly round its muzzle and whiskers to make sure it hadn’t missed anything. Then it stopped and eyed her cautiously, as though it had just worked out it was sitting on top of her.

Elsa decided it was thinking about making a mad dash back for the bed. It padded its paws up and down thoughtfully on her knee, but it didn’t move. Instead it lifted up one front paw and began a careful wash, swiping its paw around its muzzle and ears, still with one eye firmly fixed on Elsa.

Elsa let out the breath she’d been holding, very slowly. What was she going to do now?

She was just wondering if she dared try stroking the kitten when the doorbell rang, loud and shrill, and the kitten leaped off her lap and shot back under the bed again. Elsa sighed.

There was a faint yell from downstairs. “Girls? Can one of you get that? I’m under the sink – it’s leaking!”

Elsa listened hopefully for Sara but her sister still had her music playing, so she dashed downstairs and wrestled with the unfamiliar lock on the front door. When she finally got it open, there was a girl about her own age standing on the step, looking nervous. She smiled when she saw Elsa.

“Er … hi. I’m Lilly. From next door. I saw you looking out of your window a bit earlier and thought I’d come and say hi.” She twisted her fingers together and gazed at Elsa shyly.

“Oh! I’m Elsa. We just moved in yesterday. Um, do you want to –” Elsa stopped suddenly. She’d been about to say “Do you want to come in?” but then she’d remembered the kitten in her bedroom. The secret, mysterious kitten that nobody knew about. Elsa’s eyes widened in sudden horror. The kitten that was in her bedroom with the door open! She turned to peer up the stairs, hoping that she’d closed it after all.

She hadn’t.

She turned back to Lilly, biting her bottom lip. She had to get rid of her, before the kitten decided to make a run for it. What if it disappeared off somewhere and she never saw it again? Or it wandered into Sara’s room?

“Um, I’m really sorry, I have to go,” she gabbled, starting to shut the door.

“Oh … OK…” The other girl looked really hurt, Elsa realized as she closed the door. She supposed she had been a bit rude. Well, very rude actually. But she couldn’t help it. “It was the girl next door come to say hello,” she yelled to Dad, and then she raced back upstairs and flung herself down next to the bed.

The black kitten was nowhere to be seen.

Had the kitten got out of her room? Elsa sat up, looking around anxiously. Perhaps it had dashed through the open door, back upstairs to the attic. She wasn’t supposed to go up there – Dad said the floor wasn’t safe – but she could go and put her head round the door…

A tiny rustling made her turn and look at the pile of boxes, and she let out a soft sigh of relief. There were two black twitching ears poking out of the nearest box.

“What are you doing in there?” Elsa asked, going to peer in at the kitten. Now she looked, she could see delicate scratch marks on the cardboard where it had scrambled its way up. “Are you still hungry? Are you looking for more food?”

The kitten stared back at her and Elsa was sure it looked hopeful. “I can go and get some more,” she suggested. “Oh, except Dad’s in the kitchen now. We might have to wait a bit.” She eyed the kitten’s tufted ears and golden eyes and added, “I wonder if you’re a girl kitten or a boy kitten… I don’t like calling you ‘it’. Um… I’m going to guess you’re a boy. But if I called you Pepper, that could be a boy or a girl, couldn’t it?”

The kitten clambered up on to Elsa’s folded jumpers and made a friendly sort of squeaking noise. He was definitely a lot less shy since she’d fed him, Elsa decided.

“I probably shouldn’t have named you,” she told him with a sigh. “I don’t think you’re going to be able to stay here, Pepper kitten. Dad doesn’t want a cat and neither does Sara. She’s been begging to get a puppy for ages, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. I might nearly have persuaded Dad to get guinea pigs, but he’s still only thinking about it.”

The kitten wobbled across the jumpers so he was a bit closer to Elsa and then leaned over, bumping his head against her hand.

Elsa’s eyes widened. Had she just imagined that? She hadn’t dared to stroke him – he seemed far too nervous and jumpy. But he had touched her! All on his own!

“Thank you,” she whispered, wondering if he’d do it again. He was looking up at her, his eyes almost all golden now in the winter sun that was pouring through her window.

“I don’t care if Dad and Sara don’t want a cat,” Elsa muttered. That tiny, quick touch of his velvet-soft fur had made all the difference. She still didn’t think the kitten was her cat, but she definitely felt as if she was his person. “I’ll just have to persuade them somehow.” She wrinkled her nose. “Only – maybe not yet… Dad’s still a bit stressed about the move and I bet he’s not happy about that leaking sink either. It’s not really a good time to tell him we’ve got a cat.” She held her hand out a little closer to the kitten, watching him hopefully. Would he do it again?

There was a moment’s pause and then the kitten rubbed the side of his chin against her hand, his eyes closed. And – yes! There was a tiny breathy rumbling sound. Elsa could feel it too, shaking the kitten all over.

He was purring.

Elsa decided that she needed to keep Pepper hidden for a few days, at least. During lunch, she told Sara and Dad that she was working on a Christmas surprise and please could they stay out of her room? Dad had looked really pleased, as if that meant she must be settling in.

Actually, Pepper would be quite a good Christmas surprise, Elsa thought to herself in bed that night. She could put some tinsel on a cat collar… She shifted her feet very slightly, just to feel the weight of a kitten on her toes again. She hadn’t expected Pepper to sleep on her bed – she had taken the box of jumpers off the top of the stack and put it down on the floor, to make it easier for him to climb into.

She’d done her best to make her bedroom into a proper kitten home. She’d spread some newspapers on the floor in the corner of her bedroom, hoping he’d know to use those instead of a litter tray, and she’d told Dad she was starving and needed an extra cheese and ham sandwich at lunchtime. She’d borrowed one of the plastic picnic plates and a little bowl for Pepper’s water. It was going to be tricky sneaking food upstairs, but Dad was still busy sorting everything out. Sara was more likely to spot what she was doing than he was.

Elsa had spent the afternoon trying to get to know the kitten better. She spent ages feeding him the sandwich bit by bit, although he turned his nose up at the crusts. Then she rolled a ball of paper around for him to chase, and waved the piece of curly ribbon that Maisie had used to wrap up her goodbye present. It bounced up and down in a long shiny coil, and the kitten darted after it with huge leaps – Elsa reckoned some of the time he jumped his own height, or even higher.

“Did you have kitten brothers and sisters?” she’d asked him, laughing as he stomped away from her with the ribbon in his sharp little teeth. He probably missed having them to play with. He must miss them all the time, she’d realized sadly. And his mother, too.

When she’d gone to bed, she’d lifted Pepper into the box of jumpers, but he’d clambered straight out again and stood by her bed. When Elsa got in, he scrambled up after her, digging his claws into a trailing bit of duvet, and padded around curiously for a while before curling up by her feet.

Elsa sat up in bed, trying to see the kitten. His black fur settled into the shadows so completely that she could only see a faint round shape, but she could feel him. “How did you end up in the attic on your own?” she wondered again, but the only answer was faint kitten breathing.

Elsa lay back down, thinking over the day. The only thing that spoiled it was the hurt look on Lilly’s face when she’d said she had to go. Perhaps Elsa should have explained? But she couldn’t really, could she? She’d only just met Lilly. She couldn’t tell her an enormous secret, not when she didn’t know her.

Still, Lilly had looked so upset. And it had been really nice of her to come round and say hello. Elsa sighed. Perhaps she could go and explain? It would be weird, but if she didn’t do something she’d have to live next door to somebody who thought she was mean for years and years. Lilly probably went to her new school as well. What if she told everybody that her new next-door neighbour was horrible and unfriendly? Elsa’s stomach twisted with horror.

“I’ll have to do something,” she muttered sleepily into her pillow. “Tomorrow. I’ll think about it tomorrow. Night, Pepper.”

The kitten snuffled and opened one eye. The girl kept on wriggling about, but she was very warm – and not as wriggly as a box full of kittens. It was good to be full of food, even though he missed his mother’s milk and the comforting feeling of sucking and snuggling up against her. He still wondered where she was and where his brothers and sisters had gone, but the strange lost feeling wasn’t quite as bad as it had been before.

He stretched out to his full length, padding his paws against the duvet, and then stomped along the bed, wobbling over the lumps and bumps of the bedding. The girl was fast asleep, breathing softly, her long hair spread over the pillow. He tapped at it with one paw and she mumbled something in her sleep but didn’t wake.

The kitten peered thoughtfully round the top of the duvet, drawn up close over her shoulders. Under there it would be properly cosy. He nudged the duvet up a little with his nose and crept inside the soft darkness, snuggling close up against the girl.

Warm. Full. Sleepy.

It was good.

The next morning, Elsa woke up deliciously cosy. They were still working out how to use the radiators in the new house and it seemed to be icy or boiling, and nothing in between – her bedroom had been freezing on their first night. Obviously Dad had found out how to make the radiators do as they were told, she thought blissfully, still half asleep.

Then something wriggled next to her chin and there was a small purry snore.

Pepper was under the duvet with her, lying on his back with his paws on his tummy and his eyes closed tight. Elsa had to put her hand over her mouth to stop herself laughing and waking him up. “You’re the best hot-water bottle,” she whispered, gently tickling him under his furry chin. “I’m so lucky. Yesterday morning when I woke up I hadn’t a clue that soon I’d have a kitten in my bedroom.”

Then she sighed. She’d just remembered Lilly next door. She was going to have to do something – maybe go round and say sorry? But that would mean telling Lilly about the kitten and she still wasn’t sure she wanted to do that… What if Lilly told her parents and they told Dad? Elsa wriggled until she was half sitting up and Pepper gave a whistling sigh, half opened one eye and glared at her.

“Sorry,” Elsa whispered. “It’s OK. Go back to sleep.” Under the duvet the kitten scrambled up on to her tummy and curled himself into a tiny black knot with his back to her.

“That’s me told,” Elsa murmured. “Sorry, kitten. But I still don’t know how I’m going to sort things out with Lilly. Maybe I could get her to promise not to tell first? But I’m not sure I want to go round there. It would be too weird…”

Elsa sighed and stared vaguely around her room, thinking about getting dressed. It was a bit too early to go visiting anyway. Then she blinked, peering over at her noticeboard, still only half done, with letters and photos scattered around it. “I could write Lilly a letter,” she said, brightening up a bit. “I could write and explain that I didn’t mean to be unfriendly, it was just that I was in the middle of unpacking…” The kitten turned to look at her over his shoulder, yawned hugely, and went back to sleep again.

Elsa rubbed his ears. “Yes, I know it’s not a great excuse. But it’s the best I’ve got…”

It was all very well deciding to write to Lilly, Elsa discovered, but it didn’t make the letter easy to write. How was she supposed to explain to someone she’d only spoken to for a minute that she was sorry if she’d sounded rude, but she had a really important secret and she wasn’t sure who she could trust? In the end, she wrote:

Dear Lilly,

This is Elsa from next door. I’m sorry I was a bit weird and unfriendly yesterday. I’d really like to talk to you again. I had to go because I was worried about getting all my unpacking done. I’d like to be friends if you would?

From Elsa

Elsa read the note back and sighed. Either Lilly would read her letter and she’d come round so Elsa could talk to her properly – or she’d never want to talk to that odd girl next door ever again. She helpfully took a pile of packing paper that Dad had finished with out to the recycling bin, and nipped next door to stick her envelope through the letter box. She heard it bump on to the floor and crossed her fingers hopefully.

“How’s your Christmas surprise going?” Dad asked as she came back in. Elsa stared at him blankly for a moment before she remembered her excuse for spending so much time in her room.

“Um … it’s OK,” she murmured. “I’m not sure if you and Sara will like it, though…”

“I’m sure we will.” Dad put his arm round her and kissed the top of her head. “I’m so glad you’re feeling a bit happier, Elsa. I really am.”

Elsa hurried back upstairs to her room feeling guilty. It was great that the mystery in the new house had turned out to be a kitten, but she wished she didn’t have to lie to Dad about it. And when was she going to tell him the truth? She had meant it when she’d told herself she’d show Pepper to Dad “when he wasn’t so busy with the move” but it was hard to see when that was actually going to be.

Pepper came running towards her looking hopeful and Elsa laughed. He danced round her feet, padding at her legs with his front paws and putting on a show of being the hungriest kitten who’d ever lived.

“You probably are hungry,” Elsa sighed, frowning at him. “I guess your mum was feeding you whenever you wanted. Growing kittens need lots of food – and you’re definitely growing. I’m sure you’re bigger than you were yesterday. Plumper round the middle anyway. It’s OK, look, Dad made us bacon sandwiches as a treat.” She pulled out the half sandwich she’d wrapped in a tissue and hidden in her pocket. “Dad put ketchup on before I could stop him, so I hope you like it.” But the kitten didn’t look worried. His huge gold-green eyes were fixed on the sandwich as if he’d never seen anything so exciting.

Elsa fed it to him slowly, in bits, worried that otherwise he’d wolf down the whole thing and be sick. But just as she was about to hand him the last piece, the kitten turned away from her, his ears twitching.

“What is it?” Elsa whispered. “Can you hear something? It’s probably just Sara next door.”

The kitten was looking towards Elsa’s window, though, as if he thought there was something happening outside. And now that she thought about it, Elsa could hear something – a tapping sound. Maybe a bird hopping about on the roof? She looked out curiously, but couldn’t see anything. Then the tapping sound started again, sharp and distinct. It was coming from the house next door, she realized – from the window. Someone was tapping on the glass.