The Cat Mummy Read online

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Copyright

  Dedication

  The Cat Mummy

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  Epub ISBN: 9781407045337

  Version 1.0

  www.randomhouse.co.uk

  THE CAT MUMMY

  A CORGI YEARLING BOOK 978 0 440 86857 6

  Doubleday edition published 2001

  Corgi Yearling edition first published 2002

  This edition published 2009

  1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

  Text copyright © Jacqueline Wilson, 2001

  Illustrations copyright © Nick Sharratt, 2001

  The right of Jacqueline Wilson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

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  About the Book

  I get lots of letters from lovely children who like reading my books. They tell me all sorts of things about themselves. They chat about their mum and dad, and they often say they love them a lot. They mention their brothers and sisters, and they never say they love them, though I’m sure deep down they do. They always go on about their mean, bossy older sister or their incredibly irritating little brother who scribbles all over their books!

  They also mention pets in these letters, usually in the very first paragraph. Some children can’t have any pets, because their parents don’t like the mess, or there’s not enough room in a small flat, or because someone is allergic to fur. They tell me this mournfully, and frequently make up pretend dogs or cats to compensate.

  The children who are lucky enough to have a real all their heart. I get told their pets’ names and special tricks and habits and there are frequent little drawings of Jason the Dog and Jumper the Cat and Gertie the Goldfish. The saddest letters of all are when a very special pet sickens and dies. The letters are often tear-stained, with big wobbly printing, and I often feel sad when I write back.

  I realised that for many children the death of a pet is the first real sad time in their lives, so I decided to write about this in my book The Cat Mummy. It is a sad story and might make you cry a little bit, but there are lots of funny parts too, and I promise it has a happy ending.

  I re-read it after my own dear cat Whisky died, and felt comforted!

  To Nancy (who loves cats)

  CHAPTER ONE

  Mabel

  Do you have any pets? My best friend Sophie had got four kittens called Sporty, Scary, Baby and Posh. My second-best friend Laura has a golden Labrador dog called Dustbin. My sort-of-boyfriend Aaron has got a dog too, a black mongrel called Liquorice Allsorts, though he gets called Licky for short. My worst enemy Moyra has got a boa constrictor snake called Crusher. Well, she says she has. I’ve never been to her house so I don’t know if she’s telling fibs.

  I think Sophie is ever so lucky. I love going round to her house to play with her kittens. They’re so sweet, the way they scamper around everywhere. Sophie’s mum gets cross sometimes because they knock things over and they’ve pulled off all the curtain cords but the kittens don’t care a bit when she wags her finger at them. The only thing they’re the slightest bit frightened of is a little clockwork frog. They used to run away from it but now Scary is getting quite bold and dares stretch out a paw to try to catch it. I could play with Sophie’s kittens all day long.

  I’ve been to tea at Laura’s house too and made friends with Dustbin. He’s a cream dog with big dark shiny eyes and if you hold out your hand he’ll shake paws with you. I know exactly why he’s called Dustbin. He eats all the time! He’s meant to be on a diet as he’s getting very plump but he’s forever on the scrounge. He especially likes crisps. He even licks out the bag.

  Aaron’s dog Licky is great at licking too. Aaron takes Licky up to the park after school. My gran and Aaron’s mum sit on the bench and have a good gossip and play with Aaron’s little sister Aimee and we take Licky for a run.

  Then we go on the roundabout and Licky sits on Aaron’s lap and barks like crazy because he’s having so much fun. Then sometimes if we nag and plead enough my gran or Aaron’s mum will buy us a whippy ice-cream from the van at the park gate. Aaron always shares his ice-cream with Licky. It’s not really fair on Aaron so I tried sharing my cone with Licky too, but Gran stopped me. She whispered that I mustn’t, because of dog germs. My gran has a bit of a germ fixation. She’s not very keen on pets. Apart from Mabel.

  I don’t know what she’d make of Moyra’s pet snake, Crusher. I don’t know what I’d make of Crusher either. I’m not that keen on snakes actually. Moyra sits behind me at school and today she leant forwards and shot out her arm and wrapped it right round my neck and whispered, ‘Watch out, Verity, here comes Crusher!’

  I knew it was only Moyra, and I’m pretty certain Crusher doesn’t even exist – but I still screamed. Everyone giggled. Moyra practically wet herself she laughed so much. Miss Smith didn’t tell me off for screaming. She didn’t tell Moyra off either. She just raised her lovely black eyebrows and said, ‘Settle down, girls’.

  I love Miss Smith. She’s a new teacher, the nicest we’ve ever had. I hate Moyra. If there really is a Crusher I hope he wakes up one morning and takes a good look at Moyra’s beady eyes and twitchy nose, mistakes her for a giant mouse, and GOBBLES HER UP.

  I certainly wouldn’t want a snake for a pet, but at least it would be something exciting to boast about.

  I have a pet. She is a tabby cat called Mabel. I love her dearly. But she is very, very, very boring. She doesn’t do anything. She just sleeps. Sometimes I leave her curled up on my bed when I go to school and when I come home there she still is, in exactly the same position. She doesn’t go out at night and run round having wild encounters with big bad tom cats. Not my Mabel.

  She stays indoors, dozes all evening, and then sleeps all night, back on my bed. She likes to lie on my feet like a live hot-water bottle.

  She’s about as playful as a hot-water bottle too. I can’t believe she was ever a cute little kitten like Sporty, Scary, Baby and Posh. You could run a clockwork frog right over Mabel and she wouldn’t budg