Kitten Wars (17 page)

‘Well, me is very sorry. But me
can
sleep and me going right back to sleep, right now!’ Jaffa said, closing her eyes firmly.

‘Hey! Just a minute!’ I said, picking her up and putting her on my chest so that her face was close to mine. ‘I just want to ask you something about tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow is tomorrow. Mum said,’ Jaffa said huffily. ‘And today is today. And right now me is sleepy. Me
told
Bertie this!’

‘OK!’ I said impatiently. ‘Just one minute of your time – that’s all I’m asking.’

Jaffa sighed noisily, opened one eye and said, ‘One minute.’

I tickled her gently behind one ear. ‘Thank you. So, I wanted to say, are you nervous about the pet show?’

Jaffa blinked slowly. ‘Nervous? Why should
me
be nervous?’

‘Well, it’s a sort of competition, the pet show. Sometimes people get nervous before competitions. And there’ll be other animals there that maybe you’ve never seen
before. I just wondered if you’d thought about it.’

‘Everyone always loves Jaffsie,’ she said. I’m sure she smiled as she said this. Cheeky little monkey! I thought. I wish I had her confidence. ‘So me is not worried about
nothin’. And,’ she said, opening her eyes wide and fixing me with that innocent gaze of hers, ‘if my Bertie there to look after Jaffsie, there be nothin’ to worry about
anyway.’

My heart lurched. ‘That’s right, little Jaffa,’ I whispered. ‘That’s right.’

It turned out that both Fergus and my little kitten were completely one hundred per cent right: there was nothing to worry about. I had not taken Fergus at his word when
he’d said his mum would run everything like clockwork – it was more like a military parade, if you asked me. That woman was as efficient as a whole army of ants. Fiona had sorted the
venue (the Pinkington Theatre which Dad and Pinkella had helped to renovate, and where the
Who’s Got Talent?
auditions were also to be held). She had also organized all the other
contestants and of course the TV crews and make-up people and the catering people who were needed to provide refreshments and snacks.

The only thing Fiona couldn’t control was Jazz. If I’d thought my best mate had been hyper during the planning of this thing, her behaviour on the morning of the show was
mega-ultra-super-hyper! She was like a jitter-bug with a sugar rush. She could not keep still, patting her hair, rearranging her bangles on her arm, pulling at her T-shirt, and squealing every time
she caught sight of a TV camera or a microphone.

‘You need to chill out, Jazz,’ Fergus told her. ‘Just be yourself. Danni and Simon are going to love you. Mum’s told them so much about you.’

‘Oh yeah, like what a freak I am and how I’m only eleven and—’ her face darkened as she realized she’d given away her real age.

Fergus raised an eyebrow at me and smiled knowingly.

‘Fergus is right, Jazz,’ I said, grabbing my funny friend and hugging her tight. ‘They’ll love you – just like we do.’

Of course they did! And weirdly, they seemed to love me too, which I was pretty surprised about. They weren’t nearly as diva-like as I’d thought they would be. Even Simon was
brilliant at chatting to us, joking and laughing and putting us completely at our ease. Danni even let us look around their mega black limo, which had a DVD player and a fridge stacked with
chocolate and drinks. I could certainly see why the celebrity life appealed to Jazz.

‘Can’t go anywhere without my candy bars!’ Danni drawled, offering us each a snack from the fridge. ‘Take a note of that, chick.’ She winked at Jazz, who
practically swooned on the spot.

Danni needn’t have worried about Jazz taking notes: she was taking notes on every single time Danni breathed. I grinned, bracing myself for many Danni-wannabe moments to come from my
star-struck best friend.

A couple of weeks ago, when we weren’t speaking, Jazz would have given every pair of trainers she possessed (even the ones with rainbow-coloured laces) to be here without
me, scurrying around after celebrities, and she wouldn’t have missed me one bit. But that day I knew she was pleased to have me with her. ‘This is all down to you and your
kitten,’ she whispered, squeezing my arm, once we’d left the limo.

In fact, the only thing that threatened to be a problem was Jaffa. She was in danger of blowing all the good vibes out of the window when I told her she had to sit in a cat box for a while.

‘Me not like this!’ she whined at me through the door. ‘Me hate bein’ shut in – Bertie know that. Ber-tiiiiiiie!’

‘Wow! Jaffa’s making a racket,’ Dad said, peering in through the metal grille. ‘It’s all right, little Jaffsie. We’ll let you out for a cuddle in a
minute.’

‘Me
not
want cuddles,’ Jaffa mewled. ‘Me want go hoooooome.’

‘We’ll go home the minute this is all finished, I promise,’ I told her. ‘You just have to sit tight and look beautiful and it’ll all be worth it. Can’t have
you missing your moment of fame, can we?’

‘OK,’ Jaffa agreed, growling slightly.

Dad looked at me funnily.

‘What?’ I said, eyes wide and innocent.

‘You and cats – I don’t know. Anyone would think you two understood each other.’ He smiled and patted my shoulder. ‘Come to think of it . . .’ he hesitated.
‘It was like that with Fenella’s cat as well—’

‘I just think humans shouldn’t talk down to animals,’ I said hastily. ‘They have feelings too.’

Dad shook his head, smiling wryly. ‘Bertie Fletcher, you are a mystery to me.’ He gave me a squeeze. ‘I’m proud of you, helping set this up. If your mum could see you now
. . .’ He tailed off, a cloud passing over his face. I gave him a quick hug back and he pulled himself together. ‘You’d better get on,’ he said quietly, and pushed me gently
in Fiona’s direction.

The woman was a legend! She had managed to rustle up hordes of animals.There were more dogs than anything else, but I spotted a lizard and a tortoise among the crowds and something that looked
like a fat squirrel, but which Fergus told me was a chinchilla. No snakes, I was pleased to see.

Fiona had arranged for all the dogs to have a separate part of the theatre to themselves. I had a sneaking suspicion Fergus had had a part in this, since seeing how worried I’d been about
those spaniels.

‘We don’t want the bigger animals frightening the smaller ones,’ Fiona told me. ‘Especially not the gorgeous little puss-cats,’ she said, bending down to talk to
Jaffa.

So Mr Bruce’s spaniels were kept as far away from Jaffa as possible, thankfully. I spotted him out of the corner of my eye, chatting to ‘Bex’. Dad was hovering in the
background, a bit like an over-eager puppy himself. I was glad I had enough to think about without worrying about my dad’s love life. (Eeeeeuuuuuwwww!)

Fiona had organized for a semicircle of tables to be laid out for the smaller animals’ cages and boxes. I was just finishing off my tour of duty, making sure there was water and snacks for
the pets, when I saw Mr Smythe arrive with Houdini and Mr Nibbles in what he called their ‘travelling cage’. I went to greet him.

He immediately started chattering nervously at top speed with much nose- and moustache-twitching and polishing of glasses. ‘I couldn’t bring the full-size cage as it was too
unwieldy. But Houdini has more than enough room in here to perform his prize-winning act,’ he assured me. ‘And Mr Nibbles needs no more than a little tub of sunflower seeds to show off
his particular talent.’

I smiled, thinking he sounded more nervous than I was.

‘I hadn’t realized
rodents
were capable of performing,’ Fiona said with a shudder, when I introduced her.

‘Oh yes,’ Mr Smythe had said chirpily, oblivious to Fiona’s distaste. ‘I think you will be surprised to see what a hamster can do with a peanut.’

‘I’m sure,’ Fiona had said, grimacing.

Ty arrived looking thoroughly awestruck and clutching a ruffled, squeaky Huckleberry.

I went over to him and gave him a hug. ‘Hey, Ty! Have you got a cage for Huckleberry?’

He nodded dumbly, gazing around at the mayhem, his eyes wide.

I chuckled. ‘I’ve never seen you lost for words before!’ I teased. ‘Don’t worry – it’s going to be fun. And Huckleberry’s bound to win a prize for
squeakiest pet, if nothing else.’ Ty grinned gratefully and put Huckleberry back in the box his mum had brought for him.

The cameras had started rolling as soon as the crowds of spectators and contestants began arriving. Fiona had said she wanted it all on film. ‘I want to get a real flavour of the whole
event,’ she gushed. ‘We want to see the public mingling with the celebs.’ She pronounced it ‘slebs’. ‘We need a sense of the excitement building.’

She’d arranged for a telephone voting system to be put in place so that viewers at home could vote for their favourite pet, and the proceeds from the cost of the votes were definitely
going to the Cats and Dogs Home.

‘I didn’t think your mum was serious about that,’ I told Fergus, grinning like a loon.

‘Oh yeah, like I said, she’s crazy about cats,’ he assured me. But I couldn’t help thinking that he’d made sure Fiona had stuck to that part of the deal.

Once all the contestants had arrived, filming of the individual pets and their particular talents started in earnest. Jazz was there in every shot, walking behind Simon and Danni, carrying
clipboards, pens, glasses of water – anything they wanted. She would have found them a flying pig if they’d asked for it. She was in her element, her chocolate-drop eyes shining and her
face split into a permanent, extra-wide cherry lipgloss flavoured grin. It made my face ache with happiness just to look at her.

And then my own personal moment of glory came when the cameras came to me and Jaffa.

Danni and Simon walked over. My hands were shaking and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find my voice.

‘So who’s this little cutie?’ Danni cooed, leaning in and beaming at Jaffa.

‘Wow! I’m impressed,’ said Simon, in that deadpan way of his. ‘I didn’t expect to be, but – I am.’

Jaffa sat up on her haunches, looked directly at the camera and the two celebrity judges, and let out a long, high-pitched mew.

‘This my best side!’ she said, preening herself and blinking at the film crew.

I giggled and felt my shoulders relax. My kitten was fluttering her eyelashes! She was flirting with the camera!

Simon and Danni bent down to get a closer look.

‘Oh, my!’ Danni cried, reaching out her hand to give Jaffa a tickle behind the ear. ‘This is absolutely the most gorgeous little kitten I have ever seen! Look at those ice-blue
eyes! And that stunning fur! Oh, it’s so unusual to see a ginger female cat, you know,’ she added knowledgeably to Simon. ‘Awwwww! She’s so friendly and chatty too,’
she gushed, as Jaffa rubbed her head against Danni’s hand and purred loudly. ‘Definitely a ‘yes’ from me,’ Danni concluded.

‘This pretty lady say all the right things to Jaffsie!’ she crooned.

My eyes felt hot. I bit down hard on my lip. I was not going to lose it in front of the cameras, like those nutters in the auditions for
WGT?

Jazz was leaping up and down behind me, grinning from ear to pierced ear, her beads jangling in her hair. ‘That’s my mate!’ she was whooping. ‘MY BEST MATE!’

Simon had actually gone gooey-eyed. ‘I am not usually a cat person, Danni, as you know. But I have to say, you’re right. This little beauty has buckets of personality! It’s a
‘yes’ from me.’

The crowd clapped and cheered and Fergus gave me a double thumbs-up sign. If Jaffa could have bowed, I’m sure she would have. As for me, I was the proudest pet-owner on the planet.

L
ater that night, Jazz, Dad, Jaffa and I went over to the Meerleys to wait for the votes to be counted. Fiona had laid on drinks in posh, tall
glasses, and there were huge bowls of yummy crisps and dips and plates piled high with mini cupcakes. Dad was soon jabbering away to Fiona about his writing while Mr Meerley ran in and out of the
kitchen, topping up people’s drinks and handing round snacks. Fergus, Jazz and I were huddled on one of the pristine white sofas with Jaffa curled up next to us. We were glued to the TV
screen where Simon and Danni were reading out the results of the talent show and commenting on the voting.

When the final vote came in, it looked as though the nation had agreed with Simon and Danni – Jaffa had won!

‘Well, isn’t that marvellous, Berry?’ Fiona trilled.

‘BERTIE!’ we chorused.

Fiona flushed. ‘That’s what I said!’

Everyone laughed.

‘What you laughin’ at?’ Jaffa mewed.

‘Shh,’ I whispered. ‘I’ll tell you later.’

Jazz was giving me funny looks. ‘Are you talking to your cat again, Bertie?’ she asked, scooping up a handful of tortilla chips with her ultra-long purple talons and stuffing them
into her mouth.

‘Tell meeee!’ Jaffa mewed.

‘It seems, little Jaffa Cake, that not only are you the cutest kitten in the whole world, but you are also the cleverest,’ I told her.

‘Yeah,’ said Fergus, ruffling her head. ‘And Bertie’s not the only one to think so. The whole country agreed.’