Magic Kitten: A Christmas Surprise (6 page)

‘Hi, we’re home!’ Molly sang out as she dumped her coat and boots and went towards the sitting room.

Her mum poked her head round the door. ‘Shh. Can you be quiet, love? Gran’s having forty winks in there. We’ve just been on a long hunt for some special knitting wool and she’s worn out. Did you have a good time in the park?’

‘Great, thanks. Where’s Dad and Gramps?’ Molly asked.

‘In the garage, pottering about,’ her mum replied. ‘They need a bit of light relief after all those shops! Lunch won’t be long, so don’t go away. It’s home-made tomato soup.’

‘Sounds nice.’ Molly went quietly into the sitting room and sat on the sofa to read a magazine. ‘There’s no need to become invisible, Flame. Gran’s
well
asleep. Listen!’ she whispered, giggling.

Soft snores rose from the corner chair, where Gran was asleep with her knitting bag in her lap. As Molly watched, the bag slowly tipped forward and a ball of blue wool fell out and rolled across the carpet.

Flame couldn’t resist. He gave a tiny eager mew and pounced on it. Play-growling and lashing his tail, he chased the ball of wool round the back of Gran’s chair.

Molly bit back a splutter of laughter as Flame reappeared with the ball of wool held proudly in his mouth. He tossed his head and the trailing wool tightened. Gran’s knitting seemed to jump out of the bag. On the end of the trailing wool there was now a half-finished, blue and white striped sock.

‘Uh-oh. Now you’ve really done it!’ Molly breathed. She crept forward to rescue the knitting. But it was too late.

Gran opened her eyes, yawned and sat up. As she spotted Flame she gave a gasp of horror. ‘My knitting! You little menace! What have you done? Just wait until I get my hands on you!’

Flame laid his ears back and yowled
with panic. He tried to run away, but the wool was wound tightly round his legs, and he fell over his own feet.

Red-faced, Gran got up from the chair but Molly was already bounding across the room. She got to Flame first. ‘Stop wriggling,’ she scolded gently, untangling him as quickly as she could. ‘That’s it! You’d better scoot! Gran’s on the warpath!’

Flame didn’t need telling twice. Flattening his ears, he zoomed out and ran upstairs. Molly picked up the mess of wool and knitting and handed it to Gran.

Gran had a face like thunder. ‘That sock’s ruined and I don’t fancy using the wool again after that little beggar’s been chewing it. Those socks were for
your dad. I’ll never have them finished for Christmas now. I told you that kitten would be nothing but trouble!’

‘Sorry, Gran,’ Molly said in a subdued voice.
Why didn’t Gran just buy socks, like normal people did, anyway?
she thought. ‘Flame didn’t mean to be naughty. He was just playing.’

‘Soup’s ready! Molly could you go
and tell your dad and Gramps, please?’ Mrs Paget called from the hall.

‘Will do, Mum. Phew!’ Molly breathed gratefully, escaping as quickly as she could.

Chapter
SEVEN

Molly had Flame in her shoulder bag as she walked out to the car with her dad the following afternoon. It was the day before Christmas Eve and they were all going shopping at the Christmas market in the square.

‘I’ve been meaning to say thank you to you and Flame,’ her dad said.

‘What for?’ Molly asked, puzzled.

‘For saving me from having to wear blue and white striped socks!’ he said, pulling a face.

Molly laughed and gave him a friendly shove and then her face grew serious. ‘Gran was furious about having her knitting spoiled. I don’t think she’ll ever like Flame now,’ she said sadly.

‘Oh, you never know. Gran’s bark is worse than her bite,’ her dad said.

‘Really?’ Molly said; then seeing her grandparents coming out of the house, she quickly got into the car with Flame.

As her dad drove them all into town, Molly counted out her pocket money. She had been saving it up for weeks and had enough to buy gifts for everyone – including Flame. It was
exciting to think of all the lovely things she was going to buy.

The market was crowded and colourful. It was full of exciting stalls, selling things from all round the world. Coloured light bulbs flashed on the huge Christmas tree and tinsel glittered under the streetlamps. People
wrapped in hats and scarves walked about carrying bags and mounds of presents.

As Molly, her parents and grandparents strolled among the stalls Flame popped his head out of her shoulder bag. His nose twitched as he enjoyed the smells of roasting chestnuts and hot spiced chocolate.

‘Isn’t this great?’ Molly whispered to Flame, looking at some pretty silk scarves. ‘I’m going to buy one of these for Mum.’

Flame didn’t answer, but Molly was too busy to notice. She paused to listen to some carol singers holding lanterns, their sweet voices rising on the frosty air. At other stalls, she bought lavender bags for Gran, a key
ring for Gramps and a new wallet for her dad.

‘I’m doing really well with buying presents,’ she said, glancing down at Flame. But his head wasn’t sticking up out of her bag. ‘Flame? Are you having a nap?’ She reached her hand inside the bag to stroke him and her fingers brushed against a tightly curled up trembling little body. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked in concern.

‘My uncle’s spies are here. I can sense them,’ Flame whined softly. ‘I must hide!’

Molly’s heart clenched with panic. Flame was in terrible danger. Her mind raced as she tried to decide what to do. There was no way she was letting anyone hurt Flame!

An idea jumped into her mind. ‘Don’t worry! We’re leaving,’ she whispered to Flame.

Spotting her parents at a nearby cheese stall, Molly dashed straight over. ‘Can we go home?’ she pleaded. ‘I feel awful. I think I’m going to be sick!’

Gran and Gramps appeared, holding some parcels. ‘What’s wrong?’ asked Gramps.

‘It’s Molly. She feels ill,’ Mr Paget answered.

‘It’s probably all the free samples she’s tried,’ Gran said. ‘I expect she’ll be OK in a minute.’

‘No, I won’t!’ Molly insisted. She felt desperate. Rolling her eyes, she gave a loud groan and clutched her tummy. ‘I think I’m dying! It’ll be all
your fault if I collapse right here in the market.’

Even Gran looked alarmed.

‘Don’t be so dramatic, Molly. It’s only a bit of old tummy ache,’ her dad said mildly, but he looked worried. ‘Perhaps we’d better take you home.’

‘We’ve almost finished shopping, haven’t we? Let’s all go back,’ Gramps said.

Molly could have kissed him. She flashed him a grateful smile and then remembered that she was supposed to be feeling sick.

As they all hurried towards the car park, she stroked Flame’s trembling little form. ‘Hang on! We’ll soon be out of here,’ she whispered.

Molly didn’t see the dark shadowy
shapes slipping between the stalls or the narrow cruel eyes that raked the crowded market.

‘He is very close,’ growled a cold voice.

‘Ebony will reward us well for finding the young prince,’ hissed the other spy.

‘I’m being allowed to stay up late tonight. We’re all going to midnight mass at the cathedral. You’ll love it!’ Molly said happily the following afternoon.

Flame was curled up on her duvet, surrounded by bits of shiny wrapping paper, ribbons and sticky tape. He was back to his normal self, now that the danger from his uncle’s spies seemed to be far behind him.

Molly was wrapping her presents in shiny foil paper. ‘I hope those horrible mean cats keep on going until they jump into the sea and sink! And then you can stay with me forever,’ she said to Flame.

Flame blinked up at her. ‘They may come back and then I will have to leave at once. Do you understand, Molly?’ he mewed seriously.

‘Yes,’ Molly answered in a small voice. g
‘But I’m not going to think about that.’

She finished wrapping her presents and putting bows on them. ‘I’ll go and put them under the tree now,’ she said to herself.

Leaving Flame dozing, she went downstairs into the sitting room. Gramps was reading a newspaper and Gran was knitting. She had started a new scarf in pink, brown and yellow stripes.

There was the sound of voices from the kitchen.

‘Hi, Gran. Hi, Gramps,’ Molly said, bending down to put her presents with the others. A sudden thought struck her. Surely there was one missing. ‘Oh, no,’ she gasped. ‘I’ve forgotten to buy one for Flame.’ In all the urgency of getting
Flame away from his enemies, she’d completely forgotten to get him a present.

‘What’s that, love?’ Gramps asked, looking up from his paper.

Molly told him. ‘…and Flame’s going to be the only one without a present to open on Christmas morning,’ she finished glumly.

‘Oh, that’s a shame,’ Gran said.

Molly looked at her in surprise. It sounded like she really meant it. ‘I’ll just have to go to the shops and get one. Maybe Dad will take me. I’ll ask him,’ she said on her way to the door.

‘I think it’s too late, dear,’ Gramps said. ‘The shops all close early on Christmas Eve.’

‘Oh, yes,’ Molly remembered with
dismay. She stopped and turned back round. This was awful. What was she going to do? Flame would have to go without a present.

Gran looked thoughtful. ‘I’ve got an idea,’ she said, producing the scrap of blue and white sock from her knitting bag. ‘I reckon I could make this into a toy mouse. I’ll only take a few ticks to make some ears and a tail.’