His mum waved at him from the playground. She was standing next to a woman with short, spiky blonde hair and familiar bluish-green eyes. The woman was cuddling Jess.
Alfie slowed right down. Mum had gone and made friends with Grace’s mother.
How could she? It was treachery. But he supposed she didn’t know.
His mum was smiling as he trailed towards them.“Look, Alfie – this is Lucy, from next door.”
Alfie tried to smile, but it came out more like a wolf baring its teeth. Grace’s mother looked slightly surprised, but she still smiled back. “Hi, Alfie. It’s nice to meet you. Was Grace OK today?”
He nodded.“Um, yeah. She’s made friends with Asha in our class. Asha’s nice.”
“I’ve asked Lucy to bring Grace back to ours for tea,” Mum said, smiling brightly, in that way she had that suggested Alfie needed to sort his manners out.
Grace came walking across the playground towards them. Alfie thought she hesitated as she spotted him, but then she pasted on a smile.“Hi, Mrs Seton.”
Alfie blinked. She’d met his mum already then. It seemed as though she hadn’t said anything to her about the tree – or was she about to now?
Grace gave her mum a hug, and her mum explained about tea at Alfie’s. Grace nodded, and stuck her tongue out at Alfie when no one else was looking.
Alfie made a low growling noise, and then tried to look as though it was his stomach rumbling when his mum turned round and glared at him. He shrugged and looked innocently at her, but he could see she wasn’t convinced.
Back home, Alfie put the TV on. He wasn’t really supposed to watch it straight after school, but he reckoned with guests around Mum wouldn’t make a fuss. He and Grace sat at opposite ends of the sofa, not talking, and pretending to watch the programme. He could hear Mum chatting to Lucy in the kitchen, just the odd word here and there. They sounded like old friends.
Grace was listening too. She scowled as she heard her mother laugh loudly at something Alfie’s mum had said. “I should make you pay for that apple you stole.”
Alfie gaped at her.“What?”
“A pound.”
“Apples don’t cost that much!” Alfie protested, realizing, too late, that he should have said he wouldn’t pay anything at all.
“Stolen ones do.”
“Oh, shut up,” Alfie snapped. It wasn’t a very clever answer, but he couldn’t think of anything better right now. Besides, she was just so annoying!
“Don’t tell me to shut up! I bet your mum doesn’t know you were in my garden.” Grace swung her bunches, smiling a superior smile.
“Yes, she does,” Alfie growled. But he’d gone scarlet, he knew it. He was a terrible liar. The tree was the only thing he’d ever been able to get away with, because Mum and Dad had never asked him about it.
He wished Penguin was there for him to stroke. He was probably asleep on Alfie’s bed.
“Alfie! Grace! Come and have some tea!”
Alfie stood up, racing for the door and nearly crashing into Grace on the way. They wrestled in the doorway for a minute, hissing insults, and Grace shot out towards the kitchen. Alfie followed her, glowering.
He could hear a series of light thumps on the stairs– Penguin coming down them with his funny lolloping jump. He’d heard Alfie’s mum calling too, and he knew what tea meant. Alfie’s frown faded, and he crouched down to stroke Penguin under the chin. The big cat purred hungrily, peering past him to the kitchen.
Feeling better now he had his sidekick, Alfie strolled into the kitchen. Mum had done pizza for tea, which was one of his favourites. He slid into a seat as far from Grace as possible, and Penguin took up his station by Alfie’s feet.
“Could you pour Grace some juice, Alfie?” Mum asked. She was giving him a look again. Alfie nodded, resisting the temptation to pour it all over Grace’s school dress.
Penguin’s face appeared at the side of his chair, looking hopeful. He specialized in a pitiful round-eyed stare that made him look as if he was starving to death, and he knew Alfie found it hard to resist.
Alfie sneaked a scrap of ham off his pizza and held it under the table, trying not to laugh as Penguin’s rough tongue scraped his fingers eagerly.
The problem with feeding Penguin at the table was that when Alfie did it once, it only made the cat beg for more. Insistent paws kept patting Alfie’s leg, and every so often Penguin would press his chilly little nose into the hollow of Alfie’s knee, making him wriggle as he tried not to laugh.
Mum and Lucy were too busy chatting to notice, and Jess was carefully shredding a piece of pizza into crumbs, but Grace was watching him, Alfie realized. He stared back at her coldly, and she dropped a bit of garlic bread on purpose, so she could peer under the table.
She came face to face with Penguin, and gasped.“You’ve got a cat!”
“Genius!” Alfie muttered under his breath. Then he added, “He’s called Penguin,” to earn himself some brownie points with Mum.
Mum smiled at her.“Yes, he was a stray. He arrived on our doorstep a couple of years ago. He’s lovely, but he’s a bit overweight, so try not to drop anything – he’ll be there in seconds!”
Grace nodded solemnly, pretending not to know that Penguin was hoovering up her dropped garlic bread that very minute.
Penguin prowled happily under the table for the rest of the meal, as Grace and Alfie competed to feed him the best bits of pizza. He followed them when they left the table, his whiskers glistening with cheese grease and his ears at a smug, jaunty angle.
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Alfie and Grace went back to their places on the sofa, and he hopped up between them. Both of them wriggled closer to stroke him, and Penguin settled down purring, his eyes half closed.
Alfie watched Grace tickling Penguin behind the ears, and grudgingly admitted to himself that she knew cats. It was Penguin’s favourite place to be rubbed, and his purr was deepening into the low, sleepy noise he made when he was really happy.
He liked her!
It wasn’t fair.
Penguin definitely wouldn’t let just anyone mess with his ears like that. He’d clawed Alfie’s cousin Rosie’s hand when she’d tried it. Mum had been really cross, and made Alfie put Penguin out in the garden and lock the cat flap, even though it was pouring with rain. Alfie had sneaked out after a while and found Penguin sulking under a bush. They’d hidden out in the shed together, hunting spiders till Rosie and Auntie Jen had gone.
If Penguin was going to sleep with Grace stroking his ears, maybe she wasn’t that bad after all. Or maybe he was just so stuffed full of pizza that he’d sleep even if she was knitting with his tail.
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“Penguin!” Alfie thumped up the stairs to check his room the next evening – Mum had a habit of shutting the door for tidiness’ sake and accidentally shutting Penguin in. But Penguin wasn’t mewing furiously behind his door, and he wasn’t even asleep on Alfie’s bed. Alfie thundered backdown again, and out into the garden. It was very unusual for Penguin to be late for tea.
He wandered round the garden, checking Penguin’s favourite sunbathing places – the stone bench, and the wall next to the bird table, which combined sun and snacks (or so Penguin seemed to hope). Alfie had never actually seen him catch a bird from the bird table. But he liked to lie there watching while the birds twittered and muttered and complained about him.
No Penguin. Alfie stood in the middle of the tiny square of lawn, looking worriedly up and down the garden. Where on earth was he? Alfie usually fed him at about five, and it was past that now.
The garden seemed full of early evening shadows and strange bright patches, and suddenly Alfie whirled round, sure that someone was watching him. And laughing!
“Here, Harry. Have another one.” It was the slightest whisper, from over by the fence. No – the other side of the fence. There was purring too, Penguin’s strange low purr.