Kitten Wars by Anna Wilson Page A

would have thought such a
tiny cat could—’
    ‘No, no, it’s fine,’ I said, thinking quickly. ‘I think she must be hungry. I’ll go and get her something to eat.’
    Dad shook his head. ‘You know what? I tried giving her something when she came trotting in just now, but she wasn’t interested.’
    ‘What did you give her?’
    ‘That kitten food, of course. What else was I supposed to offer? A prawn cocktail?’
    ‘Kitten food yucky. Prawns . . .
purrrrr
. . . scrumlummmmtious.’
    There it was again!
    ‘I – I’m going to try something else,’ I said, backing out of the sitting room. ‘I think we should give her a proper treat to welcome her home. Actually,
have
we got any prawns?’ I asked, as casually as I could.
    Jaffa started purring so noisily at this, I was completely positive that she had understood what I’d just said. I was intent on getting away from Dad by now. I had to go to my room so that
I could talk to Jaffa. Maybe once I got her on her own we could have a proper conversation and she’d tell me where she’d been the past few days.
    ‘We have, but . . .’ said Dad, sounding unsure. ‘Hey, I think I might just ring Bex at the pet shop to ask her if she thinks it’s safe to give Jaffa rich food.’
    ‘Fine,’ I cut in quickly. This was just the diversion I needed, even if it involved ‘Bex’, I thought irritably. ‘We’ll be in the kitchen.’
    Dad was already dialling the number for Paws for Thought. I vaguely wondered why he hadn’t needed to look it up in the telephone directory, but was too preoccupied with the purring bundle
in my arms to follow this thought through.
    I scurried to the kitchen and shut the door behind me, then, lifting Jaffa to my face, I said, ‘So tell me, am I imagining it? Or can you really talk?’
    Jaffa’s icy blue eyes closed in a slow blink and then she stopped purring and in a tiny muffled voice said, ‘Of course me can talk. You ninny.’
    I laughed out loud. ‘Ha! I knew you could. I knew Kaboodle wouldn’t have left me with a cat that couldn’t talk!’
    Jaffa’s ears went flat and she hissed in annoyance. ‘All cats talk, silly-billy. Humans too busy rushy-rushy to notice.’
    I frowned. ‘That’s not true,’ I said. ‘I’ve been trying to get you to talk to me ever since you arrived.’ Jaffa lifted one paw and examined it absent-mindedly
before spreading out her toes to wash in between them.
    ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ I blurted out. ‘I know you cats like to think before you act and wash before you think and all that, but I think I’m entitled to an
explanation, don’t you?’
    Jaffa wriggled and said tetchily, ‘Me want go down!’
    I tutted, but set her down gently on the table and drew up a chair so that we could face each other more easily. ‘So?’ I persisted. ‘Why didn’t you talk to me before
now?’
    ‘Like the horrid iron-claw lady say – kittens not talk right away,’ she said, with an edge to her voice that seemed to imply that I really was incredibly stupid.
    I frowned, puzzled. Horrid iron-claw lady?
    ‘Me not going there again. Ever,’ Jaffa added emphatically.
    Aaaah! Light dawned in my dim and befuddled brain. ‘You mean the vet?’ I said. ‘That wasn’t her claws: we took you to the vet for an injection!’ I almost laughed,
but saw that Jaffa was giving me an if-you-were-a-mouse-I-would-kill-you-right-here-and-now look. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said hastily. ‘I really am. I know injections are nasty, but
it’s only so you don’t get sick.’
    ‘Me nearly
was
sick after nasty lady stuck claws in me,’ Jaffa said, her voice getting more audible the more indignant she became. She thrust her tiny pink nose in the air.
‘And there was horrid long twisty-turny scary creature too.’
    The snake! I hadn’t even realized Jaffa had noticed it in all the excitement.
    I thought she was about to turn her back on me in a sulk, but she opened one eye and then said, ‘You
sure
I not go