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“He must have followed us again.” Scarlett was grinning. She couldn’t help it. She wasn’t quite sure how she was going to sort this out, but she loved it that Bootle wanted to be with her so much that he followed her all the way to school.

Bootle scrambled up on to her lap, and sat there, purring, and nudging at her school cardigan.

Sarah and Millie saw a small ginger head sticking up over the edge of the table, and gasped. Scarlett put a finger to her lips, and stared at them beseechingly.“Don’t tell!” she whispered.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_27]

Sarah and Millie shook their heads, to say of course they wouldn’t. But Mrs Mason had seen them anyway.

“Scarlett, what’s going on?” She came over to their table. “Oh, it’s a kitten. What’s he doing here?”

“He followed me from home,” said Scarlett. “I’m sorry, Mrs Mason. He was under the table, I didn’t even know he was here till a minute ago.” She sighed, a very tiny sigh. She’d hoped to keep Bootle a secret for a bit longer.

Mrs Mason smiled.“Well, he’s very sweet, but I’m afraid he can’t stay in the classroom. You’d better take him up to the office, and get Mrs Lucy to call home. Is there someone at home who can come and get him?”

Scarlett nodded.“My dad.” She stood up, with Bootle snuggled against her, and the rest of the class whispered and aahed admiringly, reaching out to stroke him, as she went out of the classroom.

“You’re such a star for finding me!” Scarlett whispered, and Bootle purred.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_28]

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“I can’t believe you followed me all the way, Bootle!” Scarlett told him again, as she cuddled him in between putting her shoes on for school the next day. “Everybody wanted to know about you. Even people in the year above came to ask who you were – they saw me carrying you up to the office, on their way back from PE.” She sighed, and placed him down on the stairs so she could put on her other shoe. “But Miss Wilson made Dad promise he wouldn’t let it happen again. He said Miss Wilson was really scary. You’re going to hate being shut up for the whole day.” She stroked his head, looking at him worriedly. “I suppose in a few days you’ll stop wanting to follow me. But I sort of wish you wouldn’t. I love it that you’re so clever!”

Bootle clambered up a couple of steps– it took a little while, as his legs were still quite short – so that he could rub his chin on to Scarlett’s hair while she did up her shoe. He wasn’t sure what she was saying, but it was definitely nice. She was fussing over him, and he liked to be fussed over.

Jackson came stomping down the hallway, and Scarlett turned round and dropped a kiss on the top of Bootle’s little furry head. “I’ve got to go. Be good, Bootle!”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_30]

Bootle sat on the steps and stared at her crossly as she slipped quickly out of the front door, pulling it closed behind her. She had done it again! How many times did he have to follow after them before she decided it would just be easier to take him with them? He jumped down the stairs in two huge leaps, and made for the cat flap at a run. But it was locked. He scrabbled at it furiously, until Dad came and picked him up.

“Sorry, Bootle. Not happening, little one.”

Bootle wriggled out of his arms, and stalked away across the kitchen. He was going to follow Scarlett– somehow.

He would have to get out of the house a different way. Bootle prowled thoughtfully through the different rooms, sniffing hopefully at the front door to see if it might open. He could smell outside, but the door was very firmly shut. And so were all the windows.

But when Scarlett had taken him upstairs to play the day before, her window had been open. Bootle sat at the bottom of the stairs, and gazed upwards doubtfully. They were very big. But he could do it, if he was careful, and slow.

Determinedly, he began to scrabble and haul himself up, stopping every little while for a rest, until at last he heaved himself on to the landing. His legs felt wobbly, but he made himself keep going, on into Scarlett’s room, where the door was open just a crack. As soon as he pushed his way around the door, his ears pricked forward excitedly. The window was open! Just as he had remembered it!

Forgetting how tired his legs were, Bootle sprang up on to the bed, sniffing delightedly at the fresh air blowing in.

The windowsill was too far above the bed for him to reach though. His whiskers drooped a little. How was he going to get up there? He padded up and down the bed and stared at Scarlett’s pile of cuddly toys. She liked to tease him with them, walking them up and down the bed for him to pounce on. But why shouldn’t he climb up them instead? He put out a cautious paw, testing the back of a fluffy toy cat. It squashed down a little, but it was still a step up, and then on to theback of a huge teddy, and the stuffed leopard … and the windowsill!

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Bootle pulled himself up, panting happily as he felt the cool breeze on his whiskers.

Now he only had to get down again on the outside…

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