Winston and the Marmalade Cat Page 5

  ‘Very apt,’ Miss Hamblin said, as they hurried down the passageway.

  As they looked in the sitting room Harry told Miss Hamblin how he was bringing Little Houdini to Chartwell as one of Sir Winston’s birthday presents.

  ‘A man with a Rolls-Royce came to the RSPCA centre looking for a new cat.’

  ‘Oh yes, that’d be dear Jock,’ Grace said, as she looked under the cushions on the armchairs, but not up at the top of the curtains where Little Houdini was hidden. ‘I know him very well. But he isn’t here today, dear, and neither is Sir Winston. He’s in London at his Hyde Park home and there are no plans for him to come home just yet. He broke his thigh, you know, and is still recovering.’

  As Harry listened to Grace he squeezed his hands into fists and dug his nails into his palms to stop himself from cheering. He didn’t want Sir Winston to be injured, but he did want to be able to keep Little Houdini for a little while longer. It might be weeks, even months, before Sir Winston came home and Little Houdini could stay with him, maybe even at Harry’s house, if Mr Jenner let him and his dad didn’t mind. He didn’t think his dad would mind now he’d met the kitten and seen how nimble he was. His dad would never be able to step on him by mistake, even if he tried to, because Little Houdini would just hop out of the way as soon as he saw his foot coming.

  ‘Grace!’ Old Ned called out from the hallway. ‘Grace, where are you?’

  Harry and Miss Hamblin hurried out of the room and didn’t hear Little Houdini miaowing.

  ‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you,’ Old Ned said.

  Little Houdini stared down at the floor from the top of the curtains. It had been fairly easy to get up them, but he wasn’t at all sure about how to get down. He stretched out a paw and then quickly brought it back.

  ‘I was taking my present from Sir Winston for a walk,’ Miss Hamblin told Ned proudly. ‘His name is Buttons because of his button-brown eyes and he’s a miniature poodle puppy just like the two Rufuses were. Only he barked at Little Houdini …’

  ‘And Little Houdini went running off,’ Harry said.

  ‘He really is a bit of an escape artist, isn’t he?’ Old Ned said. ‘I’ll help you look for him.’

  Buttons didn’t like being shut in the lean-to. He scratched at the door and barked and whined to be let out.

  Harry felt sorry for the little puppy left all by himself.

  ‘It’s not fair to leave him for too long,’ he said.

  ‘Poor Buttons does sound really distressed,’ Miss Hamblin agreed and they headed back down the passageway to let the puppy out.

  Buttons was overjoyed to see them. He raced out of the lean-to as soon as the door was opened, stood up on his back legs and put his front paws on Ned’s shins, then ran over to Miss Hamblin and Harry, wagging his tail very fast.

  ‘You can help us find Little Houdini,’ Old Ned told him.

  ‘But don’t frighten the kitten again,’ warned Miss Hamblin.

  Harry crouched down and the puppy climbed on to his lap and licked his face.

  ‘He’s so lovely,’ Harry smiled, as he gave Buttons’s curly black coat a stroke.

  ‘And smart too, or so he will be if he’s anything like the last two poodles that lived here,’ Miss Hamblin said. ‘Sir Winston bought Buttons for me because he thought I’d be as upset as he was when his own second miniature poodle, dear Rufus 2 died. And he was right, I was very upset. I used to take both Rufuses around St James’s Park for walks and I’d grown quite attached even though I’m more of a cat person than a dog one.’ As she spoke Buttons came over to her and she picked him up and cuddled him to her.

  Harry thought that Miss Hamblin was both a cat and a dog person. He didn’t see why anyone had to be one or the other.

  ‘Winston said Rufus was starting to love me more than him, but that wasn’t true,’ Grace said, chuckling. ‘The first Rufus was a great comfort to Winston during the Second World War and he was always so happy to see Winston. As happy as Winston was to see him!’

  And she told Harry all about the little dog.

  Chapter 18

  ‘Rufus!’

  Rufus knew exactly what he was supposed to do when his name was called: run to the person calling him.

  But just because he knew what he was supposed to do didn’t mean that he always did it.

  There were so many other exciting things to do – so many interesting smells, things to chase and places to explore. He wanted to see the chickens before he went back inside and then he would run down to the fish pond for a long cool drink.

  ‘Rufus – food time!’

  Instantly turning back towards the house at the sound of those magic words, the miniature brown poodle raced across the freshly dug vegetable patch and in through the French doors, leaving a trail of muddy paw-prints behind him.

  ‘Oh, there you are at last, Rufus,’ said Winston Churchill, who was sitting at the head of the dining table, looking down at Rufus affectionately. ‘We’ve all been waiting for you.’

  Rufus panted and wagged his tail as Winston nodded to the butler, and the butler nodded to the maid, who brought in Rufus’s full dinner plate and placed it on a cloth on the Persian carpet, next to Winston.

  Winston nodded again to the butler and the butler nodded to the maid, who then brought in everyone else’s food.

  Rufus finished his meal first and looked up at Winston, who was still eating, and gave a hopeful whine.

  After lunch Winston liked to work in his bed, sometimes having meetings and dictating to his secretaries from there too. Rufus liked to lie on the bed with him and rest his head on his knee.

  But as soon as Winston got ready to go out he raced to the door to show that he wanted to go too. Sometimes Winston took him with him and let him sit on the seat beside him in the car and he stroked the little dog as he looked out of the window.

  Usually they only went for short rides in the Humber car. But one day they left the countryside of Kent behind and headed into the centre of London and 10 Downing Street. It was a long drive and Rufus got sleepy and stopped looking out of the window and slept with his head on Winston’s leg instead.

  The squirrels in St James’s Park were just as quick as the ones at Chartwell and, hard as he tried, Rufus couldn’t catch any of them. Every day, and sometimes more than once a day, they walked between 10 Downing Street and the War Rooms on King Charles Street. It only took four minutes to walk between them, if you didn’t go into St James’s Park. But Rufus loved to run round the park chasing the squirrels and the pigeons who were always just a bit too quick for him.

  Rufus panted and trembled when the planes screamed as they flew overhead and sometimes they were dropping bombs. His sensitive hearing meant he always knew when the bombs were on their way long before the people did. He’d start whining and then try to find somewhere to hide but he didn’t always make it in time.

  Miss Hamblin held his lead when they went to visit a bombsite one day. All around them there were collapsed houses and big holes in the road. Rufus sniffed the dusty air that smelt of damp plaster and sneezed. It wasn’t easy to cross the uneven rubble-strewn road with holes in it and he yelped as his paw stepped on something sharp.

  ‘There, there, dear,’ Mr Churchill said, and he picked him up and carried him.

  Rufus was happy to be carried until he saw another dog and then he wriggled to get down so he could say hello.

  ‘Rufus meet Rip,’ Winston said, as Rufus wagged his tail and sniffed at the small mixed-breed dog and Rip sniffed and wagged his tail back at him.

  ‘Rip’s saved the lives of over a hundred people,’ said the man from the PDSA with Rip. ‘Not bad for a stray dog I found in a bombed-out building.’

  ‘Indeed,’ smiled Winston as he gave Rip a stroke. ‘You’re a very fine search and rescue dog and deserve a medal for all your hard work.’

  ‘He’d like that, although I think he’d prefer a sandwich,’ the man laughed. ‘Dripping sandwiches are his favourite.’ />
  Rufus gave a woof because he liked dripping sandwiches too and fortunately the man had brought some with him and shared them with the two dogs and Winston and Grace.

  Winston went to visit lots of other bombsites after that but he didn’t take Rufus with him again.

  ‘I don’t want your paws getting cut on the rubble, dear,’ he said.

  So Rufus stayed behind and went to the park with Grace and chased the squirrels instead.

  And then one day, a long while later, everyone was very excited and Winston was smiling and laughing. Miss Hamblin kept stroking Rufus and saying: ‘I can’t believe it.’

  Mr Churchill gave him a big kiss on the top of his furry head.

  ‘It’s over, darling,’ he said. ‘The war in Europe is finally over.’

  The next morning Rufus was given a special bone to celebrate and taken by Grace for an early morning walk in St James’s Park. There were lots more people walking in the park than usual and all of them were smiling and some of them were singing and dancing.

  ‘Hello, little doggie,’ a man in a sailor’s uniform said to Rufus.

  ‘This is the best day ever,’ laughed a girl in a green hat.

  Rufus looked at a squirrel and gave a woof.

  ‘All right,’ Grace said, as she released his lead. ‘But you’ll have to be quick. This is only supposed to be a little walk. We’ve got lots to do today.’

  As soon as he was free from his lead Rufus chased after the squirrel, but it ran up a tree and looked down at him from one of the high branches. Rufus stood on his back legs and put his front paws on the tree trunk and barked, but the squirrel didn’t come down to play.

  Back at 10 Downing Street, Winston was so busy shaking people’s hands and being clapped on the back that he hardly had time to stroke Rufus. But Rufus didn’t mind because everyone was so happy. They laughed and celebrated all night long.

  Rufus even got to go to Buckingham Palace and play with a corgi called Susan while people danced and sang in the streets below.

  A few days later, Rufus was sitting next to Winston in the Humber car and looking out of the window.

  ‘We’re almost there,’ Winston said, and his voice sounded excited and that made Rufus excited too. ‘Almost at Chartwell.’ They’d left the city behind and were out in the countryside. Winston opened the car window and smiled as they drove in through the vast gates and now Rufus was really, really excited.

  He began to pant and then to whine as he sniffed at the air. He knew where they were.

  ‘Home,’ said Winston.

  As soon as the chauffeur opened the rear car door Rufus jumped out and ran off across the grass sniffing all the old familiar smells and racing down to the lake for a long drink of water.

  Chapter 19

  Little Houdini half climbed and half fell down the brocade curtains and landed on the soft carpet. He’d almost caught up with Harry in the passageway when he saw the excited black poodle puppy, and Buttons saw him too and gave a yap. Quick as a flash Little Houdini turned and ran the other way down the steps to the kitchen.

  In the kitchen the kitten found a bowl of puppy food and had a taste of it along with a drink of water from a water bowl.

  Scampering towards the next room he found something even more interesting. Hundreds of tiny multicoloured fish swimming about in big tank on top of a large wooden trunk.

  Little Houdini hopped up on to the trunk and watched the fish through the glass, his head turning from side to side as they darted about. He put his paw on the glass and miaowed but the little fishes didn’t come closer.

  Little Houdini looked up at the top of the tank and was just about to jump up on to it when he heard people talking in the room above him and recognized one voice he knew well. Harry!

  Little Houdini gave a purr, jumped down from the trunk and ran out of the room and up the stairs to find him, but once again found the barking puppy just ahead of him instead. Buttons looked round and gave a yap. Scared of the loud noise, Little Houdini ran into the library and hopped up on to the bookshelves looking for a place to hide. There were old children’s stuffed toys left in spots where books had been taken out. Little Houdini gnawed on the arm of a grubby panda that was almost as big as him. There wasn’t enough room for the panda and Little Houdini to play on the shelves at the same time and the panda landed on the floor with a soft thud.

  It was too soft a sound for Harry to hear, but Buttons heard it and looked over at the library door.

  ‘This way, Buttons,’ Harry said, leading him the other way.

  But Buttons pulled him towards the library, wagging his tail and then he gave another yap.

  ‘Maybe he’s trying to tell us something,’ Old Ned said, pushing the library door open.

  ‘So many books!’ Harry gasped, as he looked up at the bookshelves that went from the floor almost to the ceiling. There was a desk for Sir Winston to work at and comfy red armchairs for reading in.

  ‘Never been in here before,’ Old Ned said, staring in awe at the hundreds of books.

  Little Houdini looked down from the top shelf where he was now hidden by a stuffed toy giraffe.

  ‘Little Houdini,’ Harry called out. ‘Little Houdini, are you in here?’ He was getting desperate. They had to find him. Where could he be?

  Little Houdini’s tail twitched. He wanted to go down but he was frightened of Buttons who was staring straight up at him, panting and wagging his tail.

  ‘No sign of your Little Houdini anywhere I’m afraid,’ Grace said, coming into the room. ‘I left Buttons’s food bowl in the kitchen. I wonder if Little Houdini might be hungry and have found it.’

  ‘A cat’s sense of smell is fourteen times stronger than a person’s,’ Harry said. Mr Jenner had told him. ‘So he might have done.’

  Harry held Buttons’s lead as Grace led them down the stairs to the kitchen in the basement.

  As soon as Harry had left the library, Little Houdini climbed down from the top of the bookcase. It was much easier than climbing down the curtains. He peeped out of the door and then went after them.

  Buttons was very excited to find a half-eaten bowl of food waiting for him in the kitchen and had soon gobbled it all up while Old Ned and Grace looked in cupboards and under the sink for Little Houdini.

  ‘Not in here,’ said Grace.

  ‘Not here either,’ Old Ned said.

  ‘What if he’s stuck somewhere?’ Harry said. ‘He could be injured.’

  ‘We’ll find him,’ Old Ned said and Grace nodded.

  Harry and Buttons followed Miss Hamblin and Old Ned into the dining room next door and stopped to stare at a painting on the wall of a marmalade cat drinking milk from a saucer on a table while Sir Winston and his wife, who were sitting at the table too, watched. The cat in the painting looked a lot like Harry imagined Little Houdini would look like when he was older.

  ‘Who’s that?’ Harry asked curiously.

  ‘That’s Tango, Winston’s cat from many years ago,’ Miss Hamblin said. ‘As you can see, pets are well treated around here.’

  Harry nodded because they certainly did seem to be. Buttons looked up at him and wagged his tail.

  ‘Remember that sky-blue budgerigar Winny had?’ Old Ned asked Grace. ‘There were a few over the years but some of them were more memorable than others.’

  ‘Toby,’ Grace said and they both smiled. ‘He was such a character.’

  ‘He used to love sitting on top of my bald head,’ Old Ned told Harry as he laughed. ‘And more often than not he’d do a whoopsy on it too. I didn’t mind too much but some of Winny’s other visitors weren’t so keen. Winny told them to take it as a compliment!’

  Harry would have laughed if he hadn’t been so worried about finding Little Houdini. From all the stories he’d heard, Sir Winston certainly seemed to love and spoil his pets.

  ‘He had a special cage in Sir Winston’s bedroom and flew round the room, pecking at cabinet papers and sitting on Winston’s head …’ Grace re
membered.

  ‘Winston said working in bed with his pets around him was the best way to work,’ Grace added. ‘And the pets certainly seemed to like it. Toby especially loved it when Winston gave him little bits of black cherry jam and tinned pineapple from his breakfast tray.’

  Harry didn’t think Little Houdini would like jam or pineapple, but he did think he’d probably like living with Sir Winston here at Chartwell, especially if he had Grace and Old Ned to look after him too. And maybe Harry could come and visit him sometimes. That was if they ever found him!

  While Grace and Old Ned carried on talking about the budgie, Harry let go of Buttons’s lead and looked round the dining room for Little Houdini. Buttons helped too by sniffing and then licking up the crumbs under the table. Suddenly Buttons gave a woof and ran to the door where Little Houdini stood watching them all.

  They all had a little glimpse of the marmalade kitten before he raced away with Buttons yapping behind him.

  ‘Little Houdini!’ Harry cried and he, Grace and Old Ned ran after the kitten and the puppy.

  Little Houdini headed down the hallway, into the lean-to and out through the cat flap into the crisp, icy-cold air. A speck of something white and cold landed on his head, a moment later there was another white speck, and then more and more. Little Houdini stared up at the sky as more white specks fell from it and swirled around him. Soon he was surrounded by them and he forgot all about finding Harry as he chased after the white specks, desperately trying to catch them.

  Buttons was still small enough to squeeze out of the cat flap, although it took him a few tries before he could make it out into the chilly air after Little Houdini, and soon the two animals were racing around together trying to catch the falling snowflakes.

  ‘Oh,’ Grace said, and she stopped so quickly that Harry almost bumped into her as she pulled open the door to the terrace. He looked where she was pointing and saw Buttons and Little Houdini playing together in the swirling snow. Friends at last.

  Harry, Ned and Grace burst out laughing as Buttons looked over at them, his muzzle covered in snow.