Pet Detectives. Louis Catt

it,” Lyndz said. “Actually, it was a bit loose, and it had one of those elasticky bits on it.”

      “Well then!” Kenny waved her arms in the air. “Probably she got stuck in a tree or something yesterday, and she wriggled out of her collar this morning—”

      “And she’s sitting on your bed at home now this minute!” Rosie yelled.

      Lyndz smiled at us. “Thanks,” she said. “I do feel better now.”

      “Will you ring us anyway, even if she’s back?” I asked.

      “Of course I will.” Lyndz picked up her bag. “I’ll zoom back and see right this minute.” She dashed off, and we all went home too.

      

      I’d only been at home about ten minutes when the phone rang. It wasn’t Lyndz – it was Frankie. She said Lyndz’s mum had told Lyndz she could only ring two of us and we were to pass the message on. Anyway, Frankie said Truffle was still missing, and we were all going to go to the pet shop after school tomorrow.

      “We could come back to my house afterwards to make a plan if Truffle’s not there,” I said.

      “Actually,” Frankie said, “everyone’s coming to my house. I’ve already arranged it. Oh, and Lyndz’s mum says she can have a sleepover at her house next Friday to cheer her up … or if Truffle’s back it can be a celebration! OK?”

      “Yes,” I said. “All right.”

      “See you tomorrow, then,” Frankie said, and she rang off.

      I put the phone down too. Sometimes Frankie can be very bossy. We hardly ever meet up after school at my house, and my house is much the nicest. My mum really likes it when everyone comes round too, and she makes us special cakes and buys lots of different kinds of biscuits.

      We had to wait for my brother Callum before we could go to the pet shop the next day. He walks home with me, and my mum says he’s not old enough to come home on his own. His class was late coming out; because they’re younger they seem to take ages and ages getting their coats on.

      While we were waiting, Lyndz told us she’d been doing some detective work on her own.

      “The last person who saw Truffle was Mum,” she said. “Truffle was bouncing out of the cat flap, and she looked just like she always does. And we’ve checked all the cupboards and sheds and drawers, because a friend of Mum’s said her cat got into her airing cupboard and was shut in for six days while they were away on holiday!”

      “Was the cat OK?” Rosie asked.

      Lyndz nodded. “Yes. It was very thin, but it was completely fine as soon as it had had something to eat!”

      Kenny was looking thoughtful. “What did the airing cupboard look like?”

      I knew exactly what she was going to ask about. Kenny always wants to know about disgusting things. Luckily just at that moment Callum came round the corner, so I jumped up.

      “Look!” I said. “There’s Callum! Let’s go!”

      Callum was a bit grumpy about having to go to the pet shop, but he cheered up when Lyndz told him about Truffle. She’s got younger brothers too, so she knows how to talk to him.

      “I’ll look out for her,” he said. “I’m very good at seeing things.”

      We all squeezed into the pet shop together. It isn’t very big, so we more or less filled it up. There were cages all over the walls, and all round the floor too. I didn’t mind the ones with birds peeping and cheeping, but I didn’t look at the ones with horrible squirmy little rats and mice in.

      Mr Garez didn’t look very pleased to see us. He’d probably guessed we weren’t going to buy anything, even though Lyndz usually buys loads of rat food from his shop, and Frankie’s mum buys dog food there.

      “I hope you’ve come for a reason,” he said. “I’m fed up with kids coming in just to look at the kittens. This is a shop, not a zoo.”

      “Kittens!” Kenny said. “Oh, Mr Garez – where are they?”

      Mr Garez sighed very loudly and pointed at a big cage in the corner – and there they were. Three tabby kittens, and a tiny fluffy black one that was chasing its tail round and round and round.

      “OH!” Frankie nearly fell over her feet in her rush to look closer. “LOOK! He’s exactly like Muffin!”

      “Who’s Muffin?” Rosie asked her.

      “He was my cat who died.” Frankie said. “He was lovely, and I still miss him. He was black all over with a tiny white spot under his chin – oh, Mr Garez, please can I hold him? Just for a minute?”