Jack Sweettooth, Page 2

  Nothing can go wrong on a day like today, I thought.

  But I was mistaken.

  Without warning, my whiskers began to quiver and to shiver and to shake. I looked around. Everything looked normal. . . but something, somewhere

  was not right. I moved closer to Matthew's shoe, just to be on the safe side.

  And then I saw him. Beauregard Battersby-Bunge! The ginger cat from next door.

  Threats and Promises

  "Squeeeek!" I almost jumped out of my skin at the sight of him.

  Beau started grinning at me – a horrible, slinky, sly grin that sent a shuddery-juddery feeling right down my spine to the tip-top of my tail. He was sitting on the fence, half hidden by some of the low-lying branches of our pear tree.

  "Purrr!" he said softly. "Hello, Jackson. You arrre looking . . . fat!"

  I clambered up on to Matthew's foot. I wasn't taking any chances.

  "Sleek and glossy and wonderrrfully fat!" Beau licked his lips.

  I swallowed hard. "Don't even think of trying to eat me, Beau," I squeaked. "Matthew and Shani would stop you before you even got close to me."

  "Ah, but Matthew and Shani won't be arrround all the time. One day it'll be just you and me . . . and then it'll be just me," Beau threatened.

  "No chance, you sneaky, skulking, overgrown carrot!" I said, puffing myself up until I was as big as I could get.

  "We'll see," purred Beau. "We'll see."

  And with that he jumped down off the fence and started slinking towards me. I squeaked and squealed and screeched at the top of my voice until Matthew looked up from his video game to see what was

  wrong with me. Then he saw Beau.

  "Hello, Beau." Matthew smiled at the cat. "Have you come to watch me play this game?"

  And all the time Beau was slinking closer and closer. When Beau was less than half a metre away he sat down on the ground, never taking his eyes off me.

  "Matthew, you'd better put Jack in your pocket before Beau pounces," Mrs Bailey warned.

  Thank you, Mrs Bailey. Thank you! Thank you! I thought gratefully.

  What was Matthew playing at? Was he just going to leave me sitting there to become Beau's mid-morning snack? Matthew picked me up and put me in his shirt pocket. I sat absolutely still and I didn't wriggle once. All right, I admit it! I was sulking. If I didn't know any better I would think that Matthew wanted me to be eaten!

  "Don't worry, Jackson," Beau said. "I'll get you yet – that's a prrromise."

  And suddenly the day wasn't quite as wonderful any more.

  Mr Morton's Accident

  "Hi, Mr and Mrs Bailey. Hello, Shani and Matthew." Mr Morton from next door popped his head above the garden fence. I raised my head above Matthew's pocket and had a look around. Beau was still sitting close to Matthew, watching me. He was getting on my nerves!

  "Hello, Mr Morton," said Mr Bailey. "What're you up to?"

  "Just cutting back my lilac tree," said Mr Morton. "Oh, so there you are, Beau. I wondered what had happened to you."

  "He's been watching Jackson, our mouse, for ages now," said Shani.

  "He's trying to make friends," said Mr Morton.

  It's just as well I wasn't eating something when Mr Morton said that, otherwise I would've choked, for sure!

  "I see my cat is more interested in your garden than his lunch," smiled Mr Morton. "Beau, your food is in the kitchen whenever you're ready."

  Beau didn't move. Mr Morton winked at Matthew.

  "Beau always did know his own mind," laughed Mr Morton.

  And with that he started climbing up his step-ladder to get to the branches that were sticking out the most on his lilac tree. Keeping one eye on Beau, I watched Mr Morton snip away at some of the branches with his shears. He struggled to cut a particularly thick branch right above his head. Then he stepped back to get a better look at the branch – only he forgot he was on a step-ladder and he went crashing backwards to land with a great thud on the ground.

  We'll Look After Him

  Everyone in the garden sprang up at once and ran over to the fence. But we were all too late. Mr Morton lay on the ground, clutching at his arm.

  "Mr Morton, are you all right?" asked Mrs Bailey.

  "I think ... I think I've broken my arm," groaned Mr Morton.

  "Shani, go inside and call for an ambulance," said Mr Bailey.

  Shani ran into the house. Mr Bailey climbed over the fence and tried to make

  Mr Morton more comfortable but he kept groaning, and even from my position within Matthew's pocket I could see that he was in a great deal of pain. The ambulance crew confirmed what Mr Morton had said.

  "Yep! You've definitely broken your arm, mate!" said the ambulance woman.

  "We'll take you to the hospital and get you fixed up in no time," said the ambulance man.

  They tried to lay him out on a stretcher.

  "I can't go to hospital," Mr Morton protested. "What about Beau? What about my cat?"

  "Don't worry about Beau, Mr Morton," said Mrs Bailey. "We'll look after him."

  And with those few words, my heart sank. I turned to look at Beau. His smile was blinding now. And I knew I was in deep, deep trouble.

  Beau Tries His Luck

  Mr and Mrs Bailey decided to visit Mr Morton in hospital. I squeaked and squeaked up at Matthew to take me with him, but Mrs Bailey put her foot down.

  "Matthew, you can't take Jackson to the hospital and that's final," she said.

  So, reluctantly, Matthew put me in my cage. Mr Bailey brought Beau into the house and fed him some tuna-fish.

  It took less than five minutes for me to realize that the house wasn't big enough for both me and Beauregard Battersby-Bunge! One of us would have to go – and I had no intention of going anywhere.

  I'll say this for Beau – he was smart. Whenever anyone was around, he'd lie absolutely still and pretend to be asleep or pining for Mr Morton. But the moment it was just him and me in the room, he'd jump up to stand in front of

  my cage and then he'd try to get his claws in between the bars. Suddenly the metal bars of my cage looked as substantial as wet paper.

  Matthew charged down the stairs. Beau only just had time to jump down before he got spotted next to my cage.

  "We'll be back soon," Matthew told me. "So try to get along with each other."

  And with that Mr and Mrs Bailey, Shani and Matthew left the house.

  Beau jumped up beside my cage before the front door was even shut. I crouched in the corner of my cage, as far away from him as I could get.

  "Go away, you rotten cat. Go away!" I hissed at him.

  "Come overrr herrre!" Beau whispered. "Then I'll go away."

  I mean, did I really look that stupid!

  But when Beau couldn't get to me, he started trying other things. This time he stood by the side of my cage and tried to force it away from the wall. And slowly but surely Beau kept nudging and shoving and swiping at my cage, until at last the cage began to move towards the edge of the table.

  "I'm going to get you," purred Beau. His tongue came out to lick his lips.

  I swallowed hard. Now my cage was seesawing up and down at the edge of the table. I looked down. The carpet looked like it was kilometres away. One more push from Beau's claw . . .

  Then everything happened at once. Beau swiped at the cage and it teetered one way, tottered the other and then – WHOOSH! – it sailed through the air to land with a CRASH! on the carpet. My cage door sprang open because of the impact. I didn't wait another second. I sprang out of the cage and raced for the sofa. I felt a cold breeze waft over my back. My blood froze as I realized that the breeze wasn't a breeze at all, but was Beauregard Battersby-Bunge's claws missing me by millimetres! I didn't stop. I raced for the sofa as if my life depended on it – which it did! And I made it – just in time. Beau ploughed into the sofa above me the second I escaped under it.

  Beau Loses His Temper

  "I hope you've broken your head," I squeaked out
.

  "You just wait, you rrrotten rrrodent!" Beau howled.

  He tried to swipe underneath the sofa, but the opening was too small for him to get even one claw under it.

  "Come out, Jackson. I was only joking," wheedled Beau.

  "Very funny. Excuse me whilst I just split my fur laughing!" I replied. "But if you don't mind, I'll crease up laughing from under the sofa."

  "Come out this second or you'll be sorry," Beau screamed at me.

  "If I come out, I'll be a lot sorrier than I am now," I said. "So thanks, but no thanks."

  "Rrright then. I'm going away now.

  You'rrre not worrrth all this fuss," said Beau.

  As if I'd fall for an old trick like that! What an insult to my intelligence! I moved even further back. Then suddenly I felt a bang against the sofa. Then another. And another. Beau was trying to move the sofa to get to me. What a twit! As if a cat like that could move a huge, heavy sofa. But then I felt the sofa

  give a little shake and move just a teeny-tiny bit.

  I was in big trouble – again!

  Saved by Scatty Shani!

  "Honestly, Shani, you're so scatty," said Mrs Bailey, opening the front door.

  "Squeek! SQUEEEK!" I said, as loudly as I could.

  "You'd forget your head if it wasn't screwed on," smiled Mrs Bailey as they both walked into the house.

  "Uh-oh!" said Beau.

  He went to sit in the middle of the carpet and miaowed loudly.

  "What on earth. . . ?" Mrs Bailey came into the living-room.

  "Jackson! Beau's eaten Jackson," Shani whispered, horrified.

  "Squeek!" I said again. And I emerged from underneath the sofa to nudge at Shani's leg.

  When Beau saw that he miaowed louder still.

  Mrs Bailey saw what was going on straight away, in spite of Beau trying to look all sweet and cute and innocent in the middle of the room.

  "You wicked, wicked cat," said Mrs Bailey, picking him up. "So that's what you've been up to whilst we went to visit Mr Morton, is it?"

  "It's lucky I forgot the box of chocolates we were taking to Mr Morton, or Jackson could've been Beau's lunch by now," said Shani.

  Mrs Jackson went out into the back garden and put Beau down on the ground.

  "You, sir, are no longer welcome in our house," said Mrs Bailey. "I'll prepare all your food in Mr Morton's house until he gets out of hospital, but you're not eating anything in our house – and especially not Jackson."

  That's right! You tell him! I thought, from the safety of Shani's hand.

  Beau licked one paw, then the other. Then he slunk away into Mr Morton's garden without saying a word.

  And I, for one, wasn't sorry to see him go! No I was not!

  3

  A Friend of My Own

  Sitting and Watching

  "Jack, why don't you come out and have a run round the garden?" Shani said to me.

  I sat in my cage and watched the birds singing and listened to the dogs barking in our neighbour's garden, all through my open cage door. I sighed, then sighed again.

  "It's all right, Jack. Beau is at the vet's," said Matthew.

  Even the news that Beauregard, next door's pesky cat, was at the vet's didn't cheer me up.

  "Something's definitely wrong with Jackson, Mum," Shani said. "He hasn't been eating his food. He doesn't race round and round in his wheel. He won't even stretch his legs in the garden."

  And do you know something? Shani was absolutely right. I was pining for something. But – what made matters worse – I had no idea what!

  Matthew Does His Best Friend a Favour

  The next day, I lay in my cage, my head on my front paws, and did absolutely nothing. I didn't eat, I didn't sleep, I didn't exercise. I watched my fur grow! Mrs Bailey came home from work at lunchtime. She sat in front of my cage and frowned and frowned at me.

  "Come on, Jack. You can't mope about for ever you know," she said.

  I sighed.

  Mrs Bailey tried feeding me all my favourite things, like strawberries dipped in sugar and bananas dipped in honey, but I wasn't hungry.

  "I give up on you, Jack, I really do," Mrs Bailey said at last. And off she went to make her family's dinner.

  Soon Matthew came home. And guess what? He was carrying a cage – just like mine.

  "Mum, I hope you don't mind, but I told Ben that we'd look after his mouse whilst his family are on holiday," said Matthew.

  Mrs Bailey frowned. "Oh, Matthew, you should have spoken to me first," she said at last.

  "I was only doing my best friend a favour. Does that mean we can't look after Blossom?" Matthew said, dismayed.

  "Blossom?" asked Mrs Bailey.

  Matthew held up the cage he'd just brought home with the mouse in. "This is Blossom," he said.

  "When do Ben and his family go on holiday?" Mrs Bailey asked, moving towards the phone.

  Matthew glanced down at his watch. "They've already gone! At two o'clock this afternoon!"

  "Over two hours ago," smiled Mrs Bailey ruefully. "In that case, it would seem as if Blossom and I are stuck with each other."

  "I'll put Blossom's cage next to Jack's," said Matthew. "They should get along just fine. There must be all kinds of mousey things that they can talk about."

  So Matthew did just that.

  Mousey Chat!

  From the moment Blossom's cage was put next to mine, I hated her! She took one look at me and gave a loud sniff as if she thought she was too good for me.

  "Hello. I'm Blossom de Bio Blossom the first," she said, introducing herself.

  "Jackson Winstanley Sweettooth the seventy-third – at your service," I said, standing up.

  "The seventy-third?" she sniffed loudly. "My gracious!"

  "I come from a long line of Sweettooths," I said. "Besides, what kind of name is Blossom de Blo Blossom?"

  I only said that because she didn't like my name.

  "It's the only name I've got," she told me.

  "Huh!" I lay back down. I decided that Blossom de Blo Blossom wasn't worth getting up for. She was so stuck-up, with her sniff-sniffing and her "My gracious!" Which was a shame really, because she was the prettiest mouse I'd seen in a long, long time.

  "So what's it like living here then?" she asked.

  I sighed. It was obvious she wasn't going to take the hint and leave me alone.

  "It's OK, I suppose," I sighed. "It gets a bit boring sometimes though. Same old thing, day in, day out."

  "I was just thinking that about the Clarksons," said Blossom. "I must admit, when I knew Ben and his family were going on holiday I was quite glad when I found out I couldn't go with them. At last! I thought. Now I can meet Jackson Sweettooth."

  I stood up again. "You did? I mean, you did?"

  "Of course. Matthew told Ben all about you and then Ben told me," explained Blossom.

  "Then why did you sniff when I told you my name, as if I wasn't good enough?" I asked.

  "My gracious! Did I sniff?" Blossom asked.

  I nodded.

  "If I did sniff, it's because I've got a cold and for no other reason," sniffed Blossom.

  I went hot all over. "Oh dear. I. . . er . . . think I rather jumped to conclusions," I said. " You sniffed and I thought you didn't like me."

  "Not like you!" Blossom was astounded. "Why, this is the greatest moment of my life!"

  And from that time on I knew Blossom and I were going to be the very best of friends.

  What My Problem Was

  For the next week, Blossom and I ate and played together every single day. It was wonderful. And I slowly realized why I hadn't been eating and why I'd been feeling so poorly. Do you know what my problem was? I was lonely. I was lonely for some other mouse company, for a friend of my own.

  Matthew and Shani put our cages together so that my door opened on to Blossom's cage and Blossom's cage opened on to mine. We ran round and round in our wheels together, having wheel races, or we'd sit and talk and talk – until by
the end of the week, I'd made up my mind.

  "Blossom de Blo Blossom," I said, "will you marry me?"

  "Jackson Sweettooth the seventy-third," Blossom replied, "I thought you'd never ask!"

  So we had a kiss and got married.

  But the next day, when I woke up, Blossom de Blo Blossom had disappeared.

  The Blossom Mystery

  All kinds of horrible thoughts ran through my head. What if Beauregard Battersby-Bunge had eaten Blossom? What if she'd got buried by accident when Mrs Bailey was planting her petunias? What if ... ? What if . . . ? I gnawed at my cage door until Matthew saw me.

  "What's the matter, Jack?" he asked, putting the cage on the carpet.

  I watched as Matthew opened the cage door, but before he could put his hand in

  to pick me up, I was away. I ran under his hand and scarpered across the carpet. I had to find Blossom. I chased over the living-room, then out into the front room, then I ran upstairs, darting between Mr Bailey's legs and avoiding Matthew's swooping hands.

  "Matthew, will you please keep that mouse under control," said Mr Bailey crossly, once he'd regained his balance.

  "Sorry, Dad. I don't know what's got into him –" Matthew began.

  I didn't wait to hear any more. I ran into Shani's bedroom.

  "Eek!" Shani jumped on her bed.

  I was the one who should have been afraid. Shani had on one of those cucumber and avocado face-packs. If I hadn't been so frightened about Blossom I would have had the fright of my life!

  "It's only Jack," Matthew told his sister.

  "I know that," said Shani, annoyed. She got down off her bed. "He startled me, that's all. I wasn't expecting him to come tearing into my bedroom."