Kitten Catastrophe by Anna Wilson Read Free Book Online Page B

own accord.

7
Stowaway
    A t first I tried telling myself it was only the bus that was causing the movement, because it did make everything jolt when it stopped and started in the heavy rush-hour traffic. But there was no mistaking it, the bumping and jogging was actually going on
right inside my bag.
It felt as though there was something in there, trying to get out. Maybe it was my mobile – I might have set it to vibrate by mistake.
    The bag lurched again. That was no mobile! It would have to have been set to ‘mega-turbo-vibrate’ to move around that much.
    A horrible thought occurred to me. Oh no! What if Jaffa had brought me a ‘present’? Kaboodle, her uncle, used to do that. He once left a mouse in my shoe when I was looking after him during my pet-sitting days, and Dad had found other ‘gifts’ from Kaboodle in all kinds of inappropriate places. What if Jaffa was feeling guilty about nipping me and had tried to make amends by leaving a mouse in my school bag? I had heard stories of mice playing dead, the cat thinking they had finished off their prey, only for the rodent to come to life the minute the cat had gone away.
    I glanced up to see if Fergus or Kezia had noticed, but they were too busy jabbering about the band.
    Rustle. Rustle.
    There it was again! And this time the movement was accompanied by a distinctly squeaky noise.
    I shoved my fist in my mouth to stop myself from screaming. My heart was fluttering like a trapped butterfly, but there was no way I was going to lose the plot in front of Fergus and that girl.
    ‘Excuse me,’ I said firmly. I pushed myself up to standing so that Kezia had to stop leaning over me and let me out into the aisle.
    Even then she didn’t look at me properly, just curled her lip in a sour impression of a smile and slid into my empty seat so she could lean in to Fergus even closer. I was focusing on keeping a hold on my jumping, squeaking bag. But even as I wriggled past people’s rucksacks and legs and prayed that I would not make a fool of myself in front of the whole bus by tripping over and falling on my face, I saw Fergus roll his eyes and shoot me a sheepish lopsided grin over the top of Kezia’s head.
    I didn’t have time to think what that meant; I had to get to the front of the bus so that when it stopped I could be the first to get off. I would have to run and dump the mouse round the corner from the school gate so that it didn’t come into the yard with me.
    I shuddered and willed the bus to get to school faster: my mind was full of images of a monster mouse with savage teeth, making a meal out of the books in my bag.
    At last the bus pulled up outside the gates. It was as if an invisible hand had turned up the volume: the giggling and gossiping from everyone on board increased as they scrambled to their feet and collected their belongings. I muttered a quick ‘thank you’ to the driver as he opened the doors to let me off, and then I legged it.
    ‘Hey, wait up, Bertie!’ I could hear Jazz calling me, but didn’t stop. Even though part of me badly wanted some help with whatever it was in my bag, I somehow didn’t think my best mate would be much use faced with a mouse. She was the kind of girl who screamed if a ladybird landed on her hand.
    I gritted my teeth and pounded the pavement, putting as much distance as I could between myself and the other kids. Then, once I was sure I was out of sight, I opened my bag.
    ‘Bertie is not being careful today!’ A small voice that I recognized only too well bleated at me from the depths of my rucksack.
    I peered into the dark interior in astonishment. ‘
Jaffa?’
I said. It couldn’t be. My mind really was playing tricks on me now.
    ‘Course me’s Jaffa,’ said an irritable voice. ‘Who does you think me is?’ And with that, a little ginger-and-white face appeared, looking very cross indeed. My kitten bared her tiny sharp teeth and hissed. ‘Me is not liking all the bumpy-bumpy. What is you doing to