Kitten Kaboodle Read Online Free Page A

you even got your phone on anyway? I’m the only person with the number and I’m right here. You should turn it off to save the batteries. Unless . . . You and Jazz
haven’t been calling each other again, have you? What on earth have you two got to talk about that’s so important you need to call each other every moment of every day? You’re in
school together the whole time, for heaven’s sake. I bet you’ve been texting too. I t’ll cost a fortune! You know that phone is only for emergencies.’
    I slouched in my seat and rolled my eyes. ( No wonder he worked on the Daily Ranter , I thought. He was the daily ranter. No, make that the hourly ranter.)
    ‘Yes, Dad,’ I said wearily. ‘I mean, no, Dad. I mean . . . ’
    I was not really listening to him as I was surreptitiously saving Pinkella’s number so that I could call her back later. Meanwhile my brain continued whirring into a head-spin. What would
I say? I had been quite rude, cutting her off like that.
    I know! I had a flash of inspiration. I’d tell Pinkella it was Jazz who had answered the call because she had taken my phone home instead of hers by mistake.
    Dad parked the car, and I scuttled inside and up to my bedroom for some privacy.
    ‘Don’t you want a snack?’ Dad called after me.
    ‘In a minute – need the loo!’ I called back, and veered into the bathroom to put Dad off my scent. I needn’t have worried though – Dad was already disappearing into
his study to get on with yet more work.
    But for once, I didn’t care.
    I shut the bathroom door and locked it just in case and then sat down on the edge of the bath. I took a deep breath and then turned my phone back on. I called up Pinkella’s number on my
screen and pressed the green dial button. She answered on the second ring.
    ‘Hello?’
    ‘Er, yes, hello – erm, it’s Bertie Fletcher.’
    ‘Oh, hello, Roberta,’ said Pinkella, sounding puzzled. ‘That’s funny. I tried ringing you a few minutes ago and the person who answered told me I’d got the wrong
number.’
    ‘Ye-es,’ I faltered. ‘That was my, er, my assistant, er, Jasmeena.’ I used her full name as it sounded more serious than ‘Jazz’. ‘Well, she’s more
of a friend than an assistant, but she assists me, you see,’ I warbled, wincing and thinking what an utter nut-brain I sounded.
    ‘Oh dear, sweetie! If you take my advice, you’ll get yourself a new assistant – one who knows a thing or two about assisting! Heeeheeeheee!’ she twittered in that
tinkling titter of hers. Even her voice sounds pink, I thought.
    ‘Yes, I – I’m thinking of doing just that,’ I said, feeling a bit of confidence return, and putting on the most professional voice I could under the circumstances.
‘So, how can I help you, Pin— Ms Pinkington? I hear that you received one of my leaflets?’ I hoped my more businesslike tone would stop her from thinking I was actually a bonkers
person who could not be trusted with looking after a used tea bag, let alone her beloved cat.
    ‘Please, call me Fenella, sweetie,’ she tinkled. ‘Yes,I was simply thrilled to get your leaflet – it came absolutely in the nick of time. You see, I’m due to
go away for a couple of weeks and I was starting to get into a teensy bit of a panic about poor little Kaboodle here. Isn’t that right, Kaboodle?’
    At that point I heard a very loud purring noise right in my ear. I nearly dropped the phone.
    ‘There! Did you hear that, sweetie? Kaboodle agrees with me!’ said the worryingly insane woman on the other end of the phone. ‘You see,’ she continued, as I shook my head
sadly, ‘my previous cat, Pusskins, God rest his soul, used to have a room at the gorgeous cat hotel in town – do you know it?’ She broke off to blow her nose.
    Oh no. She’s going to start blubbing down the phone about her old dead cat, I panicked. ‘Er, no, no I don’t,’ I said, hastily adding, ‘but I’m sure it’s
lovely.’
    ‘Yes,’ sniffed