Kitten Smitten (20 page)

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.’

Fiona stared into her drink and muttered, ‘I
am
sorry for encouraging her to come over to ours.’ She looked as though she was suffering from an attack of acute indigestion. I
had the feeling ‘sorry’ was not a word that was often heard coming from Fiona Meerley’s mouth.

‘That’s OK,’ I said with feeling. ‘If you hadn’t, we wouldn’t all be here tonight.’

‘No, it was wrong of me, Bertie.’ (She got my name right!) ‘I promise I won’t do it again. I can see how much she means to you and how upset you were about her running
away. But the fact is, Bertie,’ she paused and looked at Jaffa soppily, ‘it is very difficult
not
to fall for her charms.’

Fergus leaned in and said quietly, ‘A bit like her owner, you could say.’

I looked awkwardly away, but not before I’d caught Jazz raising an eyebrow at me in a woooo-what-about-that! gesture that made me cringe with embarrassment.

Luckily Jaffa broke the tension by miaowing so loudly, everyone laughed.

‘I think Jaffa agrees with you, Fiona!’ Dad said.

‘Yeah, Bertie. You gotta admit it, everyone is well and truly smitten with me!’

I had to laugh too and, cradling my kitten in my arms, I cooed, ‘You never spoke a truer word, little Jaffsie.’