The Kitten Hunt Read Online Free PDF

unenthusiastic opinion of Pinkella was not improving by the minute. She held up one hand to me and splayed out the fingers,
mouthing, ‘A fiver!’
    I put a finger to my lips and frowned at her.
    Pinkella came back out into the hall with a small soft bundle of gorgeous black and white fur. ‘Here he is, the little
darling
,’ she said, nuzzling her powdery face into the
kitten’s coat. ‘You were sleeping, weren’t you, my little koochy-koo? But you must wake up and meet these lovely girlies who are going to be looking after you while Mummsie is
away.’
    Kaboodle raised his small, neat head and stared at us, his ears alert and his yellow eyes widening into deep pools of cuteness. That shivery feeling overtook me again. It was almost like static
electricity, like when you walk on a nylony carpet and then touch something metal; and once again I was absolutely convinced that Kaboodle was trying to tell me something. But what?
    ‘Would you like to take him, Roberta sweetie?’ Pinkella asked, holding him out to me.
    I was really nervous now. What if I dropped him? What if looking after him was going to be a nightmare? What if—?
    Pinkella softly dropped him into my hands, a tiny parcel of warm kittenness, purring fatly, pushing his head against my arm as if
he
was stroking
me
! That purr was such a warm,
friendly sound. The shivery sensation settled down into a soft buzz and I let out the breath I’d been holding in. He liked me.
    ‘Look at you!’ said Jazz, pointing a chewed-off purple-painted fingernail at me and laughing. ‘Don’t go all soppy on me now!’
    ‘Hisssss!’ Kaboodle jerked his head away from me and spat at Jazz. I was so freaked, I nearly dropped him.
    ‘Now, now, Kaboodle darling,’ cooed Pinkella. ‘Don’t be a naughty boyThese sweet little girls will look after you just like Mummsie does.’
    I tentatively stroked Kaboodle’s back to try and calm him down. The fur on the back of his neck had gone spiky and he felt tense and uncomfortable in my arms. ‘Shh, it’s all
right,’ I whispered in one flattened ear. ‘I promise I’ll take care of you.’
    Jazz rolled her eyes and waggled her head at me, setting off the beads in her hair. ‘You are too much!’ she drawled. ‘Chatting away to that little kitty-cat like he understands
every word. You kill me!’
    ‘Oh but he does understand, don’t you, Kaboodle sweetie-pie?’ said Pinkella.
    I would have joined in with Jazz and rolled my own eyes, but before I could say anything, Kaboodle twisted his head around to look up at me. And I was sure, absolutely positive, that he
winked.
    I gasped and flicked a glance at Jazz. Had she seen it too? But she was still laughing at me and shaking her head as if I was a complete nut-brain. Which I was beginning to think I was . . .
    Imagine if I told Jazz that this adorable little cat had just winked at me! She would take one look at me and circle her finger round next to her brain and say, ‘Tick-tock, tick-tock,
curly-wurly CUCKOO!’ or something equally intelligent and insightful.
    Instead I forced a grin and said, ‘Looks like he does understand me, Ms P!’
    Pinkella beamed. ‘Well, it certainly seems you two – sorry, three,’ she added hastily, seeing the set expression on Jazz’s face, ‘are going to get along like a
house on fire. Now, I hope you don’t mind but I’ve drawn up a short list of things to remember while I’m away, and I’ve left the number of the hotel I’ll be staying at
too, just in case.’
    Normally I hate it when grown-ups fuss like that. It’s so annoying; it’s like they think we can’t handle things on our own even though we seem to manage OK – catching
buses to and from school, doing our homework and getting to after-school clubs on time . . . This time, though, I
wasn’t
listening. I was totally focused on the warmth in my arms,
listening to Kaboodle purring and thinking:
this
is what I have been waiting for.
    What if Pinkella is right