Charlie the Kitten Who Saved a Life

The time passed slowly after they went out. For a while I sat by the washing machine, watching Jessica’s sheet, fluffy blanket and pink toy rabbit going round and round, but that quickly got boring. I jumped up onto the windowsill and looked out at the garden. It was frustrating not to be able to tell the birds to clear off. I growled at them from behind the window but I could tell they were laughing at me because I couldn’t get out. There was the usual chattering mob of starlings, a pair of nice ripe blackbirds and a fluttering of finches, but every now and then the whole congregation was scattered by a huge ugly intruder who flew in abruptly, landed amongst them and strutted through the crowd as if he owned the place. Seagulls. I’d seen them before, of course, flying high in the sky over Little Broomford, wheeling and diving and calling out rudely to each other. Older cats had told me these seagulls were usually making their way to the coast, or sometimes coming inland for a while to take shelter from a storm. But none seemed to live permanently around our parts so I’d never before seen them at such close quarters and, to be honest, the first time one landed in the cottage garden I was glad there was a window between us. I’d had no idea they were so big. His feet were huge, and his beak looked like it could swallow a little cat with one bite. I watched him waddle into the crowd of smaller birds, dispersing them just with a glare from his beady eyes, and found myself backing away slightly on my windowsill even though I knew I was safe.

‘Don’t be such a scaredy-cat, Charlie,’ I told myself sternly. ‘It’s just a bird! Since when have you been frightened of anything with feathers? You’ve eaten bigger things than him for breakfast!’

That wasn’t strictly true. He would’ve been big enough for breakfast, lunch and dinner for several cats. But I couldn’t imagine trying to catch him anyway. His walk was even more ungainly than a stupid fat pigeon’s, but when he took off in flight it was with such a sudden ferocious flapping of his huge wings that all the other birds went rushing for cover, and he was instantly airborne, swooping aloft in the currents, calling back mockingly at those who were still on the ground. I’ve sometimes chased ducks as they take off from beside that big pond in my grounds. They’re always good for a laugh. When they take off after swimming on the water, they skim the surface quite gracefully, but on land it’s completely different. They have to take such a long, waddling run to get up into the air, it feels like I could bring one down with just a swipe of my paw. But this seagull wasn’t like that. There was something arrogant about him that made me quiver from head to tail. I didn’t like him. But however much I shouted at him from the window, I had a feeling he’d be back.

I was glad to hear the family coming home at long last. Caroline came straight into the kitchen to see me.

‘Have you been lonely, Charlie boy?’ she crooned, squatting down to hug me.

‘Yes!’ I purred into her ear. ‘And there was this big seagull in the garden—’

‘We had to give up on our picnic and bring it home,’ she said, ignoring me. ‘The seagulls were dive-bombing us on the beach, trying to steal our sandwiches! Laura was going frantic about Jessica getting her fingers bitten.’

I sat up, instantly alert. So I was right! Seagulls were bullies, aggressive yobs, just as I’d suspected. Trying to steal sandwiches from humans, indeed! Who did they think they were? Next time I saw one in the garden I’d … I’d … well, I’d growl and hiss at him from the window, that was for sure.

‘I won’t be taking her on that beach again, I can tell you that,’ Laura was saying as she came into the kitchen with Jessica in her arms. ‘The poor little mite was terrified.’

‘You were,’ Caroline said, half under her breath. ‘Jessica didn’t even notice.’

‘Caroline, put the kettle on, would you, please? And go and brush the sand off your shorts before you sit down in the lounge. I hope you left your shoes in the porch?’

‘Yes.’ Caroline went to the tap to fill the kettle. ‘Just a few stupid seagulls,’ she muttered to me. ‘You’d have seen them off, Charlie, wouldn’t you?’

I was flattered by her confidence in me. But I wasn’t so sure she was right.

A little later I was sunning myself on my windowsill, where Caroline had kindly put a cushion for me to sit, when there was a knock on the front door.

‘Who on earth can that be?’ Laura said. And then, as Julian opened the door, ‘Careful, darling, close the porch door first. Charlie hasn’t been shut in the kitchen.’

‘OK.’ I heard Julian respond. And then, ‘Oh, hello Mrs Grimshaw.’

‘Hello, love,’ came a stranger’s voice. ‘And call me Annie, please. Everyone does.’

I jumped down from my perch and padded into the lounge to investigate.

‘So this is your kitty cat you were telling me about,’ the woman said as soon as she saw me. ‘Hello, little puss. Nice puss!’