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The kitten gently biffed the brother or sister next to him with the side of his chin, and the rest of the kittens popped up in a line, staring at Scarlett and Jackson.

The other three were black and white, very pretty, without the massive ears. They had enormous whiskers instead– great big white moustaches of them.

“I like the ginger one,” Jackson said. “That one’s a boy, right?”

Julie nodded.“Yes, and the three black and white ones are all girls.”

“I like him too,” Scarlett agreed. “Will they let us stroke them? Is that OK?”

“They’re usually very friendly. Especially Ginger.”

“Oh, is that what he’s called?” Scarlett tried not to sound disappointed. She would have liked to choose a name together for their kitten – Ginger was what all ginger cats were called!

“Oh no. I’ve tried not to give them names – I’m hoping to find homes for them all, and if I name them I’ll just want to keep them. But it’s hard not to think of him as Ginger.”

The ginger kitten was standing up now, arching his back and stretching as he climbed out of the basket. He looked sideways at Scarlett with his big blue eyes, to check that she was admiring how handsome he was as he stretched. She was watching him eagerly, and she gave a little sigh of delight as he stepped towards her, gently rubbing himself against her arm.

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“Oh, he’s got boots!” Scarlett looked over at Jackson and her mum and dad. “Look, he’s got furry white boots on!”

Mum laughed.“He does look like he has,” she agreed. “Those are very cute.”

“I know lots of cats have white paws, but I’ve never seen one where the white goes that far up before.” Scarlett stroked the ginger kitten lovingly, and his black and white sisters followed him out of the basket, looking for some attention too. Their mother stared watchfully after them, then seemed to decide that Scarlett and the others weren’t dangerous to her babies. She gave a massive yawn, and curled up for a sleep.

The girl kittens let Scarlett’s mum and dad pet them, then they set off chasing after a feathery cat toy, racing round the kitchen and patting it ahead of them with their paws. The ginger kitten watched them, but he didn’t join in. Instead he placed a hopeful paw on Scarlett’s knee, and she looked back at him, just as hopefully. Did he want to be picked up?

“He’s very cuddly,” Julie said quietly. “He’s a real people cat. Try and put him on your lap.”

Scarlett gently wrapped her hands around his gingery middle. Even though he was the biggest of the kittens, he still felt tiny– so light, as though there was nothing to him.

The kitten gave a pleased little squeak, and padded his fat white paws up and down her jeans as though he was testing how comfy she was. Scarlett found herself smoothing her jeans, wanting him to think she was nice to sit on. He padded all the way round in a circle a couple of times, and then wobbled and flopped down, stretching his front paws out, and flexing his claws gently in and out of the denim fabric of her jeans.

“That tickles!” Scarlett giggled, stroking him under his little white chin.

The kitten purred delightedly. That was the best place, the spot he was always itchy. He pointed his chin to the ceiling and purred louder, telling her to keep going.

Jackson joined in, stroking one finger gently down the kitten’s back. “His fur’s really soft. And look at his paws! They’re bright pink underneath!” The kitten was enjoying the stroking so much that he’d collapsed into a happy heap on his side, purring like a steam train.

Scarlett looked down at his paws and laughed– they really were pink. A sort of pinkish-apricot colour, and so soft and smooth-looking.

“They’ll probably get a bit darker once he starts going outside,” Julie explained. “They’ve only been indoors so far. He’d need to stay in for a bit longer if you decide to take him.” She looked at Scarlett’s mum and dad.

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Scarlett and Jackson got up, then both turned to look at them too, and their mum laughed. She turned to Julie, and asked hopefully,“I don’t suppose you could lend us some cat litter, could you? The shop in the village would have cat food…”

“You mean we can take him now?” Scarlett gasped.

Her mum shrugged.“Why not?”

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“Dad, we’re nearly out of Bootle’s food. There’s only the salmon flavour left, and I don’t think he liked that one very much.”

Bootle wrapped himself lovingly round Scarlett’s legs. He knew quite well what was in those tins, and he didn’t see any reason why he shouldn’t have a second breakfast.

Calling him Bootle had been Jackson’s idea. Scarlett had suggested Boots, but it was like Ginger – a little bit too everyday for such a special cat. Bootle was much better.

Jackson looked up from his huge pile of toast.“We could go to the shop,” he said. “I’ve nearly finished the bread, and there’s not a lot for lunch.”

“I’ve got a work call in a few minutes,” said Dad. He looked at them thoughtfully. “Though I suppose you guys could go if you like.”

“On our own?” Scarlett stared at him.