“What shall we have for tea?” Alfie’s mum asked, looking back from the pushchair. Alfie jumped away from Grace and tried to look as though he hadn’t been pushing.
“Lasagne!” Grace suggested promptly. “Takes ages to make!” she whispered to Alfie, when he looked at her in surprise. “We want her busy, don’t we?”
“Er, really?” Alfie’s mum murmured, looking a little shocked. “Well, I was thinking more along the lines of sausages, but I suppose…”
Behind his mum’s back, Alfie beamed at Grace and flashed a sly thumbs up. She nodded regally. She was clearly a mistress of deception. Alfie was impressed.
Once they got home, Alfie and Grace disappeared into the garden, promising to be back in for tea.
“Is it OK if we climb over the fence into my garden too?” Grace asked very politely. “I’d like to show Alfie my den.”
“Well, as long as you’re careful,” Alfie’s mum agreed.
“Now if she can’t see us she’ll just think we’re in my garden,” Grace whispered conspiratorially as they headed down to the end of the garden. “And I didn’t tell her about the loose board, either. Where shall we look first? I’m sure he isn’t anywhere round my house, honestly.”
Alfie nodded.“He goes under our back fence sometimes. That’s the Morrises’ garden, and they’re not usually in until later. We could go and check there. Then there’s the little copse behind your garden that’s full of holes and stuff. And he likes the allotments on the corner. That’s a couple more gardens away, but if we were sneaky going along the back fences, I bet no one would see us.”
Grace nodded, not looking the slightest bit daunted by all this skulduggery. Alfie decided he almost liked her, even if she was a thieving cat-rustler.
He led her down to the back fence of his garden, helpfully hidden behind a screen of sweet pea poles, and pointed out the rather dank hole under the fence. It was definitely more cat-sized than Alfie-and-Grace-sized, but then Penguin was a large cat, and they were both reasonably skinny.
Grace eyed it doubtfully, and then looked him up and down.“You first.”
Alfie took a deep breath in and lay down, ready to squirm.
“Do you want me to push you?” Grace asked helpfully, squatting down by his middle.
“No!” Alfie retorted from the other side of the fence. “I can do it with my elbows. Ow, I’m through. Your turn!”
Grace wriggled daintily through the hole, the only casualty her bunches, which were decidedly uneven when she stood up with Alfie on the other side of the fence. She straightened them thoughtfully as they peered round the bush they’d emerged into and along the Morrises’ garden. “They’re definitely out?”
Alfie shrugged.“Neither of them gets home till about six.”
Grace smiled at him.“You really did spy out of that tree, didn’t you? Do you know what everybody does round here?”
Alfie ducked his head, flushing.“It’s good for spotting stuff, that’s all. I miss it,” he added in a mutter.
Grace nodded.“You can maybe borrow it sometimes. Should we call for Penguin, do you think? Or is here too close? Wouldn’t you have heard him meowing if he was stuck somewhere so near?”
Alfie crouched down and peered right under the bush.“I guess so. And they don’t have a shed for him to be shut in or anything like that. Penguin!” he called quietly just in case. “Penguin!”
There was no answering mew, and he stood up, shaking his head.“Let’s go next door. Then we’re on the way to the allotments. And the people next door but one have got a shed. It’s worth a look.”
The Morrises’ side fence was worryingly solid, with no useful loose boards or holes underneath. But they did have a small plum tree that Alfie could shove Grace into, and she could haul him up after her. Then they sat there, wobbling, and peering down into the little wooded patch on the other side of the fence. It was a sort of tiny nature reserve that belonged to the council, with a pond in it that school took them to every so often to do pond dipping. Pond dipping was mostly just an excuse for flicking slime at the girls, as far as Alfie and Oliver and most of their friends were concerned. Last time Asha had shoved Oliver back when he put something disgusting down her wellies, and he’d actually fallen in the pond. Year Two (they’d been Year Two then) had been banned from pond dipping after that.
Alfie frowned down at the ground, which seemed a long way away.“I think we just have to jump.”
Grace nodded.“Those ferny things look quite soft.”
“They’re nettles,” Alfie told her, leaning down for a closer look.
“No! This bit.”
“Oh. OK, yeah. Maybe. Shall I jump then?”
Grace nodded, and settled herself in the tree as though she was preparing to watch something funny.
It actually wasn’t that far down, and Alfie almost missed the nettles. Not quite, but almost. He sucked his hand. “Aim this way,” he pointed, looking up at Grace in the tree.
Grace edged out away from the tree and perched herself on the edge of the fence, holding on to a branch. Then she jumped with a yell, landing spreadeagled in the middle of the ferns and gasping with laughter.
“Are you all right?” Alfie asked, helping her up. But she was all right enough to be giggling, too much to say anything.
“Your dress is covered in stuff,” he told her, but Grace only shrugged. She took a deep, shaky breath, and sighed.
“That was funny.”
“Are you really all right?” Alfie eyed her doubtfully. “You look sort of weird.”
Grace nodded, and stopped looking at him.“I just want to find Penguin,” she muttered. “I can do something about that. I can’t help Gran.”
“Is she really ill?” Alfie asked.
Grace nodded.“She has been for ages, I think. We didn’t know. Mum had a massive row with her years ago. I’ve hardly even met her before. She sent presents, really nice ones. And she’d phone at Christmas and stuff, but I never knew what to say. Last time she phoned she told Mum how ill she was, and Mum came to see her. Then she came back and told me we were moving!”
Alfie shook his head.“Just like that?”
Grace nodded bitterly.“Right at the end of the summer holidays. I didn’t even get to start the new term or say goodbye at school. Only to my two best friends.”
Alfie swallowed. He couldn’t imagine it. “Let’s go this way,” he muttered, pulling her arm gently. “Are you staying?” he asked, as they set off, wading through the bracken.
Grace shrugged.“Mum says so. But, if Gran’s really ill – really badly ill, I mean…” She trailed off.
“Mm. You could go home again.” Alfie flushed scarlet as soon as he said it, wishing he hadn’t.
Grace nodded.“It’s really bad that I think that, isn’t it?” she asked miserably.
“I don’t think it is.” Alfie looked back at her as she tracked him through the waist-high leaves. “You’ve only known her about a week, haven’t you?”
Grace nodded.“But she is my grandma,” she pointed out. “I feel horrible that I’m more worried about your cat than her.”
Alfie shrugged.“Well, it’s like you said. You can’t do anything about her, but you can help me find Penguin. Once we’ve found him, I’ll help you worry about her, if you like.”
Grace smiled.“All right. We should call him.”
They called and called. There were strange rustles, and leaves shook here and there, but it was only birds, and a dirty, skinny fox that shot across the faint path in front of them and made Grace shriek.
Alfie patted her.“You don’t need to be scared of them. They’re a pain, Mum says. They just tip the bins over and eat the rubbish.” But his heart was thumping fast too.
“Gran likes them,” Grace said, her voice still a little shaky with surprise. “She knows loads about animals, really funny things sometimes. Foxes used to hide out in her garden. One of her notes said so. She leaves notes for herself everywhere,” she added. “She says her memory’s going and she doesn’t want to forget anything. She’s got notebooks in every room, and little sticky notes all over the place. It’s weird.” She paused for a minute, as though she wasn’t sure whether or not to go on. Then she started again all in a rush. “Lots of them are about me. She’s written my name inside the front cover of all the books, so she doesn’t forget what it is.”