20: LOUISE

 

   Most cats are very good with kittens: they wash and feed them, teach them how to pounce and purr, take them out hunting, generally train them up in the ways kittens ought to behave, and care for them with lots of love and kindness. But some kittens can lead really dreadful lives, and poor little Louise Smallpaws was often covered with bumps and bruises when she arrived at morning kitten school.

   Louise lived with her uncle and aunt, Boxer and Kate Sharpclaws, and their three kittens: Biter, Scrapper and Medusa, in the shabbier part of Catsville, behind the railway station. Both her parents had been killed in a car accident, and Boxer and Kate had taken her in. But she soon learned that they only wanted her as a skivvy, for Boxer and Kate made her sleep outside their cottage in a kind of kennel, fed her the barest minimum of the very cheapest kind of catfood, and made her work like a slave outside of kitten school hours.

   Louise had to get up at crack of dawn every day to make a fire, heat milk for her uncle and aunt and three cousins, set out their breakfast, and clean their cottage from top to bottom. She also had to carry her cousins’ satchels to school, and come straight home after class to wash and iron any laundry and make supper. Then she had to tidy up again before the Sharpclaws went to bed.

   Boxer, a big tabby with a very bad temper, kicked her from time to time, because he also kicked Kate Sharpclaws and his own three kittens, whilst Kate Sharpclaws and her three kittens kicked Louise to pass on their pain and be spiteful. Louise never kicked anyone at all.

   The other kittens at kitten school felt very sorry for her, because she always looked sad. Roxanne often thought that she could have been a pretty little girl kitten, because she had pretty green eyes, thick black fur and a white bib under her chin. But Louise never washed or brushed herself very much, and her fur was always matted and grubby. She always sat in the same seat, right at the back of the classroom, with Biter and Scrapper seated either side of her, and Medusa just in front of her, and never spoke to any of the other kittens, whilst her cousins always chased away any kittens who tried to speak to her.

   ‘She’s a problem kitten,’ Biter always explained. ‘She doesn’t like talking to other kittens, they frighten her,’ and he would clench his paws and hiss until Louise looked half scared out of her wits.

   The three Sharpclaws kittens also made sure Louise stayed well in the background when the time came for practical lessons, like purring and pouncing, and scratched her secretly whenever Lucy Prettypaws, the kitten schoolteacher, tried to ask her questions in class.

   Questions consequently made Louise cry, and Lucy Prettypaws gave up after a while. But Roxanne, who was a very observant kitten, saw Biter and Scrapper scratching her one day, and made up her mind that the three Sharpclaws kittens were nasty little bullies.

    ‘We must do something to help her,’ she told the other Mighty Mousers one afternoon after kitten school had broken up for the day, and Louise had trudged off back towards the Sharpclaws cottage carrying her cousins’ satchels, whilst Biter and Scrapper and Medusa followed her lazily. ‘You can see that the poor girl is miserable. And she’s so thin – I don’t suppose she’s had a proper meal in ages.’

   Which was true, because Boxer Sharpclaws had just lost his job at the Catsville market for kicking another market cat, and Louise now had to live on stale catbiscuits and scraps that the Sharpclaws left on their plates.

   Salem looked doubtful. ‘I don’t think we can do very much,’ he miaowed. ‘She looks much too frightened to complain, and the Sharpclaws will scratch her even harder if we say anything.’

   Fluffy, Oliver, Jack and Nathan all nodded. But Roxanne went off for a little walk on her own, to have a good think, and she had a very determined set to her whiskers when she came back.

   ‘I’m going to find her home and talk to her,’ she miaowed.

   The five other Mighty Mousers stared at her.

    ‘When?’ miaowed Salem.

    ‘I’m going now,’ replied Roxanne.

    ‘But she lives down by the railway station,’ miaowed Fluffy, who knew that it was not a very nice part of Catsville to visit.

    ‘I don’t care.’ Roxanne looked fierce, though she did not feel nearly as brave inside herself, because all the kittens knew stories about cats living behind the station, and all the stories were horror tales. ‘I’m going to pack a little basket with some tasty snacks, and find her, and talk to her, and find out why she’s so sad – and nobody is going to stop me.’

   With that she began to trot off towards her home. The five other Mighty Mousers watched her leave, and wondered for a few moments what to do. Then they looked at each other and sighed. They all knew they could never let Roxanne prowl off alone to such a nasty part of town, and they all knew they would never be able to stop her, once she had made up her mind. So they stretched, and shrugged their shoulders – as cats and kittens often do when they come up against something that they think is really quite mad, and began to follow her.

   Roxanne only took a few minutes to pack her basket, and then all the kittens cycled to the station. They chained their bicycles together in the station forecourt, close to a group of floats parked ready for the Catsville Day parade the following weekend. Nathan, who liked everything to do with motors, because his father sold fast cars, volunteered to stand guard, with Jack to keep him company, and began busily prowling around a giant painted figure of a white cat mounted on a little tractor.

   ‘It’s the Great White Puss of the North,’ he said excitedly.

   The Great White Puss of the North was a kitten legend. Old cats said that it came flying out of the northern skies once a year to punish cats and kittens who behaved really badly, taking the very worst of them back to its castle at the North Pole to work as slaves for ever and ever.

   Roxanne swished her tail impatiently, because was in a hurry to start hunting, and turned up her nose at the floats. ‘Make sure he doesn’t take you to the North Pole with him,’ she miaowed scornfully. ‘I’m off to find Louise.’

   She set off purposefully, because she already knew roughly where Louise lived, and stopped to gain her bearings after prowling for a few minutes. The kittens cocked their ears hopefully, and then Fluffy lifted her left front paw. ‘I can hear a kitten crying,’ she miaowed. ‘Over there.’ And she pointed at a shabby little building that appeared to be on the verge of collapse.

   Roxanne’s whiskers bristled. She began to creep forward, using her best stalking skills, tummy and tail pressed close to the ground, her ears tuned for every smallest sound. Fluffy, Salem and Oliver followed a little way behind, moving from shadow to shadow like four furry little ghosts. The crying seemed to stop for a while, and then began again, and they tracked it to a small hutch at the back of the building.

    Roxanne signalled o the three other kittens to keep watch, and crept up to the hutch. Two very cracked and chipped saucers stood just outside the entrance, one with some water, the other with some shreds of very dried up cat biscuit, and inside a small cat lay curled up in a corner, snuffling to itself unhappily.

   Roxanne reached out to touch the small cat with her paw, but it curled away from her in terror, making itself as small as possible.

   ‘Don’t hit me, please don’t hit me,’ it sobbed.

   Roxanne reached into her basket to unpack some food, set it out on a plate, and pushed it into the hutch. ‘I’ve brought you some supper, she miaowed softy.

    The small cat uncurled a little. ‘Roxanne?’

    Roxanne purred gently. She heard the sound of some interested sniffs, and then the sound of a cat munching.

   Suddenly the munching stopped. ‘You mustn’t let them catch you here.’ Louise’s voice was trembling with fear and anxiety. Roxanne purred comfortingly, and the munching began again.

   Suddenly something large and furry and extremely fierce struck Roxanne a massive blow, sinking some very sharp claws into her back. Roxanne let out a startled howl, twisting back on herself, lashing out blindly in self-defence, and the next moment all hell broke loose, with what seemed like a mass of cats screaming and yelling at her, biting and scratching. One tried to clench its teeth in her paw, and Roxanne recognised Medusa. She lashed ot with a massive double scratch, all front claws fully extended, and allowed herself a grim little smile as Medusa screamed. Then she heard Salem shouting, and realised that the three kittens waiting outside the hutch had rushed to help.

   A moment later the fighting stopped as suddenly as it had begun. Roxanne realised that the four other Mighty Mousers had gathered around her, shoulder to shoulder. She found herself face to face with a large and very angry tabby, with Biter and Scrapper on either side of him, and a large female tabby standing just behind him. All of them looked a little worse for wear, and Roxanne smiled again grimly as she noted that somebody had given Medusa a very nasty black eye.

   The big tabby bared its teeth. ‘What are you doing here, kitten?’

   Roxanne stared him straight in the eyes. She was a brave kitten, and she hated cruel cats. ‘I brought Louise some supper.’

   ‘Oh, did you?’ The big tabby flexed its claws. ‘Don’t you think we feed her properly?’

   Roxanne sniffed. ‘I don’t think you do anything for her properly. Kittens can’t live on dried up cat biscuits, and they deserve better homes than grubby straw beds.’

   ‘Oh, do they?’ The big tabby lashed out a massive paw, catching the edge of Roxanne’s left ear painfully, and took a step forward. Biter and Scrapper and their mother moved with him, and Roxanne noticed that small group of fierce looking tabbies, each as bad tempered as Boxer and his family, had begun to gather.

   The tabbies all began hissing menacingly at the Mighty Mousers, and Roxanne suddenly realised, with a sinking heart, that they were trapped.

   Biter and Scrapper grinned at her unpleasantly. ‘You and your friends are too high and mighty,’ they hissed. ‘Louise belongs to us.’

   Roxanne heard Louise burst into tears in the hutch behind her, and felt her heart sink. But she also sharpened her claws bravely, because she had absolutely no intention of giving in without a fight, and prayed silently that a passing policeman might notice all the commotion and come and send all the tabbies packing.

   Suddenly there was a strange yowling noise in the street. A great white ghost of a figure came flowing towards the Sharpclaws’ cottage, towering over the tabbies, and howling with anger.

   ‘I smell evil, I smell badness,’ it howled – and the voice reminded Roxanne very much of Nathan trying to sound grown-up. ‘I am the Great White Puss of the North, and I have come to sweep all the bad cats here back to my ice castle at the North Pole to be my slaves for ever and ever.’

   The tabbies all stopped hissing, and looked at the figure, and began to scream with terror. A moment later they had all fled, leaving the Sharpclaws all on their own, and Biter and Scrapper and Medusa had flattened themselves on the ground in fear. Even Boxer and Kate Sharpclaws looked very nervous, and then Kate Sharpclaws suddenly covered her face with her front paws and crumpled into an untidy furry heap.

   ‘Oh, forgive me,’ she miaowed in a voice of abject terror. ‘I’ve been a bad aunt to Louise, I admit it. I’ve been cruel to her, and kicked her, and treated her dreadfully.’

   Biter and Scrapper and Medusa echoed their mother.

   The Great White Puss of the North made an angry growling noise, and glared at Boxer Sharpclaws. ‘What about you? What have you got to say for yourself?’

   But Boxer Sharpclaws was also crumpled into a furry heap, with his head buried under his front paw, and was shaking much too much to reply.

   The Great White Puss of the North looked down at him sternly. ‘I can see that you have been a cruel cat and a bad cat. However someone must look after Louise, and I don’t think I really want a scruffy cat like you as a slave.’ It paused thoughtfully. ‘I might give you another chance – if you promise to treat Louise properly from now on.’

    Boxer Sharpclaws wriggled apologetically. But he was still much too afraid to look up. However Kate Sharpclaws and her three kittens all miaowed together for him, in their most pleading tones.

   ‘Oh, please do give us another chance, dear Great White Puss, please be merciful. We’ll be ever so good to Louise. We’ll put her in our most comfortable bed, and let her have the best of the cream for breakfast every morning.’

   The Great White Puss of the North seemed to think for a moment, and then it nodded. ‘All right,’ it boomed. ‘But you must let Roxanne come and look at her whenever she chooses, to make sure you keep your word.’

   ‘Yes, yes,’ miaowed Kate Sharpclaws and her three kittens. ‘Roxanne can come whenever she likes, and we’ll give her our  very best cat biscuits.’

    They looked up, waiting for the Great White Puss of the North’s approval. But it had vanished.

   Roxanne, Fluffy, and Oliver made sure that Kate Sharpclaws gave Louise a good wash, so that she really sparkled, before fluffing up her fur with a furdryer and combing her well. Then they tucked her up in the Sharpclaws’ best catbasket, and kissed her goodnight.

   They all laughed on their way back to the station at the clever trick that Nathan and Jack had played, and miaowed their congratulations when they reached their chained up bicycles. But Nathan and Jack looked bewildered.

   ‘We never left here,’ miaowed Nathan.

   ‘Not for a moment,’ miaowed Jack.

   Suddenly a great rumbling noise split the sky. The Mighty Mousers all looked up, and five of them thought they hard the sound of thunder. But Roxanne knew better – for she knew that it was the sound of the Great White Puss of the North chuckling over a good deed well done.