The next day, the twins got a phone call from a young woman called Tina Samson who sounded like she might be ideal. She worked from home and loved animals. She hadn’t had a cat before but had owned long-haired guinea pigs and was used to grooming them. After chatting to her on the phone, the twins agreed to take Fluffy round to meet her and to see if her house was suitable. Their mum was busy so Ollie took them – he’d passed his driving test six months ago.

  Tina was slim with short, dark hair and a wide smile. “Oh, what a sweet kitty!” she exclaimed, peering through the bars of the carrier. “I love kittens. I’ve always wanted one. I just love animals so much!”

  Jack and Grace exchanged hopeful looks. Ollie came in with them and they checked the house. It seemed fine for a cat. The terraced house was on a very quiet street and there was a garden at the back.

  “Can we get her out?” Tina asked the twins.

  “Sure,” said Jack. He opened the carrier door and Fluffy stalked out.

  “She’s adorable,” said Tina. She picked Fluffy up and the kitten purred.

  Grace crossed her fingers. Everything was going so well! Just then, her eye was caught by something moving on the far side of the room. A large spider came scuttling out from behind the sofa. “Jack!” she said warningly as she saw Fluffy stiffen all over.

  Tina smiled, misunderstanding Grace’s alarm. “Are you scared of spiders, Grace? Don’t worry, I’ll catch it and put it outside. I never kill spiders – I never kill anything. Not beetles or wasps or – Argh!” She broke off with a scream as Fluffy leapt from her arms.

  In the blink of an eye, Fluffy had pounced on the spider, tossing it up in the air and back to the floor. She patted it with her front paws but it didn’t move. With a happy meow, Fluffy picked it up and carried it across the room and dropped it proudly on Tina’s foot.

  Tina screamed even more loudly than Amelia had with the toy rat. “She’s a killer!” she gasped, backing away and pointing at Fluffy. “That kitten’s a vicious killer!”

  Grace, Jack and Ollie made a hasty exit.

  “Definitely not the right home,” Jack said as they got into the car with Fluffy.

  “Definitely not,” Grace agreed with a sigh.

  When they got home, Dad asked them to walk to the shop and buy some milk. Leaving Fluffy snoozing on the window seat, they headed out. They took a tennis ball and threw it between them as they walked down the street.

  “Maybe someone else will ring up soon,” said Jack.

  Grace giggled. “Tina really wasn’t right for Fluffy, was she? That kitten’s a vicious killer!” she mimicked as she threw the ball to Jack.

  Jack was so busy laughing that he missed the ball. It flew over Mr Gregory’s hedge, bounced on the grass and hit the bottom of the shed door with a bang.

  “Oi, you young hooligans!” Mr Gregory appeared from the side of the shed. “You can stop that right now or I’ll be talking to your parents!”

  “Sorry, Mr Gregory,” Jack apologised in alarm. “It was just an accident.”

  “We didn’t mean to hit your shed,” said Grace. Under her breath, she added, “Mr Grumpy Pants.”

  Mr Gregory examined his shed door, his face reddening. “There’s a hole! You’ve made a hole in my shed!”

  Grace went hot with indignation. How could such a small ball make a hole like that? It hadn’t even hit the shed that hard. “We didn’t…” she started, then something small and furry scampered through the hole and dived into Mr Gregory’s roses.

  “A mouse!” exclaimed Jack. “Did you see it? I bet that mouse made the hole, not our ball.”

  Mr Gregory stared at the rose bushes in astonishment. “I’ve got mice! Mice!” He shook his head. “Well, that’s all I need, mice in my shed, eating my plant seeds and whatnot.” He harrumphed angrily. “I’ll have to do something about that.”

  “What about Fluffy?” Jack whispered to Grace. “Could Mr Gregory—”

  “No!” she hissed. She knew exactly what Jack was about to say and there was no way a grumpy old man like Mr Gregory would be the right owner for a cute kitten like Fluffy.

  Mr Gregory glanced at them, the anger fading from his expression. “All right, maybe it wasn’t your ball that made the hole. You can come and fetch it.”

  Jack and Grace went in through the gate and retrieved the ball as Mr Gregory slowly bent to inspect the hole in the door.

  “Look, an old dog bowl!” Jack hissed, nudging Grace. “Remember what Mum said? Mr Gregory might not be right for Fluffy but he might want to rehome a dog the next time we get a small one in. Let’s ask him while we’re here.”

  “Jack, no!” Grace said, horrified, but it was too late to stop him. He had picked up the bowl and was already approaching the old man.

  “Excuse me, Mr Gregory, but my sister Grace and I take in unwanted dogs and cats for rehoming. You used to have a Jack Russell, didn’t you? Would you be interested in giving a new dog a forever home, if we take one in?”

  Grace saw Mr Gregory straighten up. He gave Jack a gruff smile.

  “No, lad, I wouldn’t be able to rehome a dog. It’s my arthritis, see. I can’t walk too far these days. It wouldn’t be fair to take a dog on now. I couldn’t exercise one.” Mr Gregory took Patch’s old bowl from Jack, holding it carefully in his hands. His eyes looked sad. “Animals!” he said, shaking his head and talking almost to himself. “They’re expensive. They make a mess. They’re a huge responsibility and then they leave you too soon and break your heart.” He looked up and saw the twins and his smile vanished. “You’re still here! You’ve got your ball so off you go now. Shoo!” Mr Gregory waved Grace and Jack away with his hands.

  “We’re going,” said Grace, dragging Jack out of the garden.

  As they went out on to the road, she shook her head at him. “Honestly, Jack! Mr Gregory’s so bad-tempered. There’s no way he’d be a good owner for one of our animals.”

  “But, Grace, he seems sad,” Jack argued as they carried on walking to the shops. “He obviously loved his old dog. You know, I think Mr Gregory might be a bit like Fluffy.”

  Grace stared. Was her brother nuts?

  “They’re both not what they seem. She looks sweet and cuddly, but she’s also a fierce hunting cat,” Jack explained. “Mr Gregory’s the opposite. He’s grumpy on the outside, but I bet he’s a big softie really.”

  Grace snorted with laughter. “You’re wrong and you’re never going to make me like him and we’re never – ever – going to rehome an animal to him!”

  When Grace and Jack returned with the milk, Mum was having a tea break with Dad. Grace made them laugh by recounting how Jack had lost his ball and doing an impression of Mr Gregory and the mouse.

  “Honestly, Grace, are you sure you’re not exaggerating a teensy bit?” Mum said with a smile. “Jack’s right, Mr Gregory is actually kind under his gruff exterior. He’s always feeding the birds and he absolutely adored that Jack Russell of his. Nothing was too much trouble for him when it came to Patch, in fact—”

  There was a knock on the door. Mum broke off to answer it. An older lady with curly hair was on the doorstep. “Hello, my name’s Pam,” she said. “I was in the newsagent’s and I saw your poster that said you have a kitten that needs a home.”

  “We do,” Mum said. “It’s my children you need to talk to, though. They’re in charge of finding the right home for her. Come in.”

  Pam stepped inside. Tiny got up and Pam gave him some fuss then greeted Grace and Jack with a smile. “Is that the kitten? She’s beautiful!” she said, spotting Fluffy on the window seat.

  “Would you mind if we ask you some questions?” said Jack.

  “That’s absolutely fine,” said Pam.

  Mum left them to it and Pam told them she lived on her own and wanted a friendly cat who liked cuddles. “My grandchildren sleep over quite often. The youngest is just nine months, the middle one is three and the eldest is six.”

  Grace and Jack looked at each other.

  “I’m really sorry, I don’t think you’re going to be suitable,” said Jack politely. “You’d be a lovely owner for a different cat, but Fluffy is a brilliant mouser and she likes to bring her prey indoors. It might upset your grandchildren.”

  Pam stared at Fluffy in surprise. “She looks so cute and cuddly! I’d never have guessed! Oh dear. She’s definitely not the cat for me, in that case. I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”

  “Don’t worry at all. Thank you for calling in,” said Grace.

  Grace moved to let Pam out but as she did so, she accidentally trod on Tiny’s tail. Tiny jumped to his feet with a surprised yelp. “Oh, Tiny, I’m sorry!” said Grace, throwing her arms around his neck.

  “I’ll see myself out,” called Pam as Jack went over to stroke Tiny too. Tiny wagged his tail, enjoying the sudden fuss.

  “Here, I’ll get you a treat to say sorry, Tiny,” said Grace, getting a bone-shaped dog biscuit from a tin on the side.

  “It’s such a shame Pam wasn’t right for Fluffy,” sighed Jack as Tiny happily crunched on the biscuit.

  Grace nodded. “If only we could train Fluffy not to hunt, it would make her much easier to rehome.” She looked around. “Where is Fluffy?”

  “Oh no!” Jack gasped. “Look! The door’s ajar! Pam can’t have shut it properly.”

  Grace ran to the door. But there was no sign of Fluffy in the courtyard. Grace’s heart began to hammer against her chest. “She’s not here, Jack! She’s gone!”

  Grace ran to the gate that led on to the street.

  “Grace, where are you going?” shouted Jack. “We can’t go out without telling Mum or Dad!”

  Just then Ollie came into the kitchen with his toy rat. He held it up to Jack and said in a squeaky voice, “Help, I’m Hatty the Ratty. Hide me from the nasty catty.”

  “Stop it, Ollie!” Jack growled. “Fluffy’s gone. She got out a few minutes ago!”

  “Really?” Ollie was suddenly serious. He put the rat down. “You’re sure she’s not in the courtyard?”

  “Yes,” said Jack, running out.

  Ollie followed him. “She can’t have gone far. I’ll help you check the street, but first I’ll let Mum know we’re going out.”

  The twins hurried outside. Ollie quickly joined them. “Mum, Dad and Amelia are coming to help. I told them we’d go this way and they’re going to look in the other direction,” said Ollie, setting off along the street with Grace and Jack. “We’ll find her,” he reassured them.

  But although they looked and looked, they didn’t find any sign of Fluffy. In the end they had to go home.

  “Don’t worry,” said Ollie. “She’ll come back when she’s hungry.”

  “Not if she’s lost,” Grace said anxiously.

  “Cats have got a really good sense of direction,” Jack said, though he didn’t sound convinced.

  Fluffy still hadn’t returned by dinner time. Dad had cooked his special homemade pizza, but Grace could barely eat. What if Fluffy was hurt or stuck somewhere? She hated to think of the little kitten lost, scared and alone.

  “Can Jack and I go and have one last look before we go to bed?” she begged.

  “All right,” said Mum. “But no further than the top of the street.”

  The twins hurried out. They peered under hedges and looked over fences.

  “There’s Mr Gregory. I wonder if he’s seen Fluffy. Let’s go and ask him,” said Jack.

  “Jack, no!” said Grace. “He’ll only yell at us.”

  But Jack was already walking towards the elderly man’s gate. Grace ran after him. Mr Gregory was by his shed.

  As they went through the gate, Grace saw a furry white ball of fluff beside Mr Gregory. It was Fluffy! Purring ecstatically, she was rubbing her head against Mr Gregory’s legs as he tickled her behind her ears.

  Noticing the twins, Mr Gregory straightened up. “You two again. What do you want now?”

  “You’ve got Fluffy!” Jack exclaimed, hurrying across the lawn. “We thought she was lost.”

  “This cat?” said Mr Gregory.

  Grace nodded. “We’re looking after her and trying to find her a new home.”

  “She was in my shed,” said Mr Gregory. “She must have squeezed in through that hole the mice made. I’ll board it up tomorrow.”

  Grace hesitated. There was no denying how gentle the old man had been when he was fussing the kitten. Maybe Jack was right and he would be a good owner after all. She glanced at her twin. Jack grinned and nodded and she knew they were thinking the same thing.

  “Mr Gregory, would you like a cat?” Grace said impulsively.

  “She’s a great mouser,” Jack added.

  “And you wouldn’t have to walk her,” said Grace. “She’s less work than a dog, but just as friendly.”

  As if she knew she was being talked about, Fluffy meowed loudly and gave Mr Gregory a hard stare. Mr Gregory’s lips twitched like he wanted to smile. He reached down his hand but then his eyes fell on Patch’s old bowl and he seemed to stop himself. “No, I don’t want a pet,” he said, frowning. “And if I did, I’d get a proper cat, not a daft-looking powder puff like this one. Now hurry up and get out of here. I’m busy.”

  Grace ran over and lifted Fluffy into her arms. The little cat purred loudly, her silky body throbbing. Grace scowled at Mr Gregory. “Fluffy is a proper cat!” she said hotly.

  “Fluffy!” Mr Gregory snorted. “What sort of name’s that?”

  “We’re going now,” said Jack hastily, grabbing Grace’s arm. “Thanks for finding her, Mr Gregory. If you do decide you’d like to offer Fluffy a home, then come and see us.”

  “I won’t,” Mr Gregory grunted. “Now go!”

  Grace stomped out of the garden with Jack hurrying behind her. “I really don’t like that man!” she declared. “You are a proper cat, Fluffy, and Fluffy is a lovely name. Don’t you take any notice of him.”

  Jack took one last look at Mr Gregory, who was watching them. Then he hurried after Grace.

  Mum, Dad, Ollie and Amelia were all in the kitchen when the twins got home. “You found her!” Mum jumped up, taking Fluffy from Grace. Dad fetched the cat bowl and filled it with food while Ollie and Amelia crowded round, stroking Fluffy. The kitten purred, loving all the attention. Jack recounted how they’d found her.

  “You know,” he finished thoughtfully, “Fluffy really would be the perfect pet for Mr Gregory, if only he’d give her a chance.”

  “He wouldn’t be perfect at all. He said she wasn’t a proper cat!” Grace exploded.

  “I don’t think he meant it,” said Jack. “You were too busy talking to Fluffy when we left to notice, but I saw his face. He looked sad. I think he’d love a cat really, and he needs a good mouser.”

  “I suppose Fluffy isn’t the sort of cat a man like Mr Gregory might naturally choose,” said Mum. “But maybe you can persuade him to change his mind and look beneath the surface.”

  “If anyone can, you two can,” said Dad, putting the food down for Fluffy. She wriggled out of Mum’s arms and started to eat hungrily.

  “Grace?” Jack said, looking at her. “I really think we should try.”

  Grace considered it. She couldn’t deny that Mr Gregory had looked very happy when he’d been stroking Fluffy and he’d been very gentle with the kitten. He had clearly loved Patch a lot and been a very good owner. Maybe he would be right for Fluffy after all. “OK,” she said, giving in. “I don’t know how we’ll make him want her though. He didn’t seem too keen.”

  They all looked at Fluffy. She had finished her food and was looking round for something to do. She spotted Tiny’s tail waving on the floor and pounced on it.

  “No, don’t do that!” said Jack quickly. “Poor Tiny.”

  “Here, have this instead,” said Grace, spotting the rat. She wound it up and put it on the floor.

  “Seriously? Do you have to?” said Amelia with a shudder.

  “Fluffy likes it,” protested Grace. “Go and get it, Fluffy!”

  Fluffy darted after the clockwork rat, pouncing on it, then holding it down.

  “If Mr Gregory saw you do that he wouldn’t say you were just a silly fluff ball,” Grace said. Her eyes widened suddenly. “Oh, wow! I think I’ve just had the perfect idea!”

  The next morning, after breakfast, Grace and Jack hurried round to Mr Gregory’s. Jack had the clockwork rat in his pocket and Grace was carrying Fluffy. Mr Gregory was in his garden, beside a wheelbarrow. While Grace kept Fluffy distracted, Jack wound the rat up and, quietly opening Mr Gregory’s gate, he set it on the ground. The rat scuttled off down the path. Mr Gregory looked up to see where the rattling noise was coming from. “What on earth –? A rat!” he exclaimed.

  Grace put Fluffy down. Like a flash, Fluffy raced after the rat. She pounced, bringing it down and holding it tight. The clockwork rat spluttered and stopped. Fluffy picked it up in her mouth, proudly stalked over to Mr Gregory and dropped it at his feet.

  Mr Gregory stared at the toy, his brow furrowed. He picked it up. “What the—”

  “It’s just a pretend rat, Mr Gregory,” said Grace, hurrying into the garden. “We brought it to show you how good at catching rats and mice Fluffy is.”

  “Meow!” agreed Fluffy, weaving around Mr Gregory’s legs.

  “Well, she’s certainly fast, I’ll give her that,” he admitted with a frown.

  “She’s a brilliant mouser,” said Jack. “She’s really fierce.”

  “And that’s why lots of people don’t want her,” said Grace. “They don’t want a cat who catches so many mice. They don’t like it.”

  Mr Gregory looked down at Fluffy thoughtfully. “So, no one wants her.”

  “No,” said Grace.

  “I’d be doing you a favour by taking her in?” Mr Gregory said.

  “Yes!” the twins said together.

 

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