by Poppy Harris
PUFFIN BOOKS
Hamilton was still so sleepy that, for the moment, he had forgotten all about the Kitty. He peeped out from the nest box and saw Bethany smiling down at him.
‘Hello, Hamilton!’ she said. ‘You look very cosy in –’ Then she stopped and went to the door. ‘Sorry, Mum, what did you say?’
For a minute, Bethany stood at the bedroom door while Mum said something that Hamilton couldn’t hear. She came back with a bang of the door that made the cage tremble.
‘Kitty’s coming!’ she exclaimed. ‘Why do we have to have Kitty! She’s a monster!’
Hamilton bolted backwards into the box and hid. Not only a cat, but a monster cat! How much worse could it get?
Have you read all of Hammy’s adventures?
HAMMY THE WONDER HAMSTER
HAPPY CHRISTMAS, HAMMY THE
WONDER HAMSTER
HAPPY HOLIDAY, HAMMY THE
WONDER HAMSTER!
TOO COOL FOR SCHOOL, HAMMY
THE WONDER HAMSTER!
POPPY HARRIS
PUFFIN
PUFFIN BOOKS
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA
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Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
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First published 2010
Text copyright © Poppy Harris, 2010
Illustrations copyright © Dan Bramall, 2010
All rights reserved
The moral right of the author and illustrator has been asserted
Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN: 978-0-141-96456-0
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
For Thomas Priestley
It was a busy, rushing-about Monday morning in Bethany’s house. Mum was yelling upstairs to Bethany that her friend Chloe was waiting for her while Bethany was still throwing books, pens and pencils into her school bag. Sam was running downstairs and shouting, ‘I’m getting my trombone today! I’m getting my trombone!’
Hamilton, Bethany’s hamster, was sitting on Bethany’s bed reading a book about the Battle of Hastings. It was all so exciting that at first he hardly noticed what Sam was saying. At last he looked up, listened carefully with his head on one side, then looked for Bethany’s mobile phone. Bethany always left it where he could reach it in case he needed to tell or ask her anything.
Sam’s shout had puzzled Hamilton. He knew the names of all the bones in hamsters, humans and most other animals, from the skull to the tiny little phalanges in the toes, but he’d never heard of a trom-bone. Was it another word for a toe bone, or a vertebra? Or was ‘trom’ a word for something else, like an arm, a rib, or a shoulder? Did anyone get a fractured trombone at the Battle of Hastings?
Bethany heard the faint click of his claws on the keypad and looked up from her packing to see what he was telling her, and when Hamilton had finished the message, he pushed the phone towards her. She hoped it was something simple. She was running a bit late this morning and should really be on her way to school by now.
‘What’s a “trom-bone”?’ she read out loud, pushing her hair back. She closed the book about the Battle of Hastings and put it into her bag. ‘Ah! You mean a ‘trombone’.
That’s exactly what I said! thought Hamilton. But he listened to Bethany’s explanation as he always liked learning new things.
‘It’s a musical instrument,’ Bethany revealed. ‘It’s very big and made of brass, and very loud – and it makes a horrible noise, or it certainly will when Sam tries to play it.’
Hamilton still sat with his head tipped to one side. He wanted to know more, but Bethany didn’t have time this morning to explain all about trombones.
‘It makes oompah music,’ she finished cryptically. ‘See you later. Be good.’
Bethany picked him up, kissed him and put him back in his cage as Mum shouted for her again. ‘Bethany! NOW!’
‘I’m coming!’ she called. ‘Hi, Chloe!’ And she ran down the stairs and out of the house.
Dad was already at work, and Mum (who was a dressmaker and sometimes worked at home) soon went out to visit a customer. Hamilton was alone in the house, longing to know more about trombones and knowing exactly how to find out about them. All he needed was a computer. Hamilton knew a lot about computers, but what he didn’t know was where all his knowledge came from.
The secret – which not even he knew – was that, lodged in Hamilton’s cheek pouch was a very tiny microchip, so small that it was only a microspeck. It was this that gave him all his most un-hamster-like intelligence. It made Hamilton able to read, think, calculate, speak hundreds of languages (including Rabbit, which came in useful) and to know lots about computers.
Hamilton had accidentally and unknowingly eaten the microspeck, which had been made by a very clever young scientist called Tim Taverner. And Tim was trying to get it back. Tim, who worked at the university, had already made a remote-control tracking device to help him find the hamster with his precious microspeck. He had even found out where Bethany lived, but so far, he’d never quite managed to get hold of Hamilton. Neither Hamilton nor Bethany knew anything about him.
As soon as the house was empty Hamilton let himself out of his cage (or his ‘apartment’, as he liked to think of it), scrambled down the stairs and ran to the dining room, where the computer was kept.
He was distracted by the sight of a newspaper lying over the back of a chair. Hamilton loved newspapers. He very much wanted to stop, read it and do all the puzzles, but with a great effort he ran past it. He had to get on to the Internet as soon as he could because he couldn’t risk Mum coming home and finding him at the computer. His great intelligence was a secret between Bethany and himself.
Bother! thought Hamilton as he looked up at the desk. Last time he’d been in there, somebody had left a pile of b
ooks on the floor, just right for climbing up to the desk. Why had they been tidied away? Getting up to the computer wasn’t going to be so easy now. He’d have to work out a route.
The leg of the swivel chair looked too smooth to run up, but Hamilton tried it all the same. After he had fallen off for the third time he decided that, yes, it was too difficult (although it had been great fun trying). He sat back to take a good look at the possible new ways up.
The dining room was also the room Mum used for sewing. In the corner stood a small white chest of drawers in which she kept all sorts of needlework things – beads, brocade, buckles, buttons, pins, needles, zips and seven different kinds of elastic. There were five drawers, each with a small metal handle. It would be a long stretch or a bit of a jump, but Hamilton thought he might be able to use it as a ladder. It was worth a try. He sprang on to the lowest handle, wobbled a bit until he got his balance, and with a stretch and a jump, managed to scramble on to the next one. By the time he had reached the top, Hamilton had decided it was so easy that he jumped all the way down the drawer handles and back up again just for fun before climbing on to the top of the sewing table. From there, one good leap took him on to the computer desk.
He clicked on the search engine. Spelling out ‘trombone’ (which he’d now worked out was all one word) was a bit difficult because it was hard to tap on the right keys without standing on the wrong ones at the same time, so he’d typed in ‘grimbone’, ‘tronbike’ and ‘t4ib9n3’ before he had the idea of picking up a pencil in both paws and tapping the keys with that. Suddenly, a picture of a huge and impressive brass instrument appeared on the page. So that was a trombone! Amazing!
In no time at all, Hammy learnt a great deal about trombones, and it was all very exciting. He loved the size and shape and shine of them, and listening on the computer to the deep, confident noise they made.
‘… often played by oompah bands …’ he also read. Bethany had said something about oompah. He’d better find out what an oompah band was. A few more clicks of the mouse and up came a picture of some very happy men with big moustaches, hats, short leather trousers and trombones. Oompah men! thought Hamilton, and pressed Play.
One-two-three, one-two-three, oompah-pah, oompah-pah … It was happy and rhythmical and Hamilton loved it. It made him sway from side to side, swinging his paws, and soon he was waltzing across the desk – one-two-three, one-two-three! When the music stopped he started it again and went on dancing until a click from somewhere near the front door made him jump.
Help! He’d been enjoying the music so much, he’d forgotten to be careful! Was Mum arriving home? What would she think if she found him on the desk, playing trombone music on the computer? Only Bethany knew how clever Hamilton was. But to Hamilton’s relief, nothing happened. The door didn’t open and Hamilton realized that the click had only been the sound of the letterbox opening and shutting. He returned the computer to the screensaver (in case Mum really did come home), ran down the sewing-box ladder and scampered to the door to pick up the printed yellow paper lying on the mat. He knew it hadn’t been delivered by the postman because it had no envelope and wasn’t stamped. He tasted it, didn’t like it, and turned it over to read.
PEXPERTS
THE PET EXPERTS
EXPERT ADVICE FOR PET OWNERS
AT PEXPERTS, WE DEAL WITH ALL FORMS OF ANIMAL BEHAVIOUR. NO PROBLEM IS TOO STRANGE FOR US. FROM DOPEY DOGS TO MAD MICE, WE CAN HELP. FOR SNAKES’ SHAKES, DIZZY LIZARDS AND HABITS OF RABBITS, PEXPERTS ARE EXPERTS. IF YOUR PET IS SAD, STROPPY, BAD, BORED OR BONKERS, CALL US. WE SPECIALIZE IN RODENTS, ESPECIALLY HAMSTERS. PHONE FOR A FREE VISIT.
At the bottom of the page was a mobile phone number. Hamilton rushed up the stairs, scrabbling for clawholds on the carpet, and found Bethany’s phone. PEXPERTS sounded wonderful to him. They might even help him to talk, or at least teach him games to play. It was all very exciting. He tapped a text into the phone to the Pexperts number: PLS CALL AT 33 TUMBLERS CRESCENT, SPINHILL.
*
In his lab at the university, Tim Taverner picked up the special mobile he had bought just for these calls and smiled to himself as he read the message. This was exactly what he had hoped for.
Having sent the text message, Hamilton ran downstairs again. There might be time for a quick look at that newspaper while the family were still out. He’d have to listen for Mum coming home, but he was pretty sure he could be up the stairs and back into his cage before she saw him. He sat on the paper washing his whiskers while he read all about the weather in Japan and what the government was doing. Then he burrowed into the pages and found the Sudoku and the crossword. Puzzles were among his favourite things. He had worked out the Sudoku in his head and was trying the crossword when the telephone rang.
‘Hello,’ said the voice of Bethany’s mum on the phone, ‘this is Angela. Sorry, there’s nobody who can take your call just now. If you want to leave a message, please speak after the tone.’
The first time this had happened, Hamilton had been most confused. Mum hadn’t been in the house, but he could still hear her voice. He had been very impressed, though, after Bethany had explained about voice messages. It was yet more information for Hamilton to store up delightedly.
‘Hello, Angela, it’s Sally here,’ answered another woman’s voice. ‘Sorry, but can you help me out today? I’ve got an appointment in town this afternoon and I can’t take Kitty with me. Can I leave her with you? I’ll pick her up from school and drop her at your house. I should only be about an hour – is that OK? I’ve just tried your mobile, but you must have left it switched off. Kitty loves coming to you. See you soon – thanks!’
The machine clicked again. Hamilton waited to see if it did anything else, but nothing happened.
He was really very keen to have one more go with the computer, and he wasn’t sure what the woman on the phone had meant by ‘Kitty’. The computer would help him to find out. He ran back up the sewing box, leapt to the keyboard, and entered ‘Kitty’ in the search engine.
To his horror, a cat loomed at him from the screen. He clicked again and saw another cat, and then another! He jumped back. He knew they were only pictures of cats, but they were very close and frighteningly big, and had sprung out at him so quickly that it was unfair. Computers shouldn’t be allowed to shock you like that, thought Hamilton. It was very annoying.
He read the words on the screen and didn’t feel any better. According to this site, a kitty was a cat! He had met a cat once before and didn’t want to meet any more. It had been an enormous animal with terrible claws and far too many sharp teeth – and it wanted fresh hamster for supper and might have had it too, if Bethany hadn’t turned up when she did. He still felt shaky just thinking about it.
So, who was Sally and why did she want to leave a cat here? It was all very well saying that it would only be for about an hour. For Hamilton, even a minute with a cat would be a minute too long.
He needed to get out of the way quickly before the Kitty arrived. He ran upstairs, climbed into his cage, fastened the door firmly behind him and pulled paper and sawdust into his nest box. Having made the nest as big as possible, he made himself as small as possible, and snuggled down.
The nest was extremely comfortable, and it had been a busy morning for Hamilton. He was soon asleep and only woke up when the door banged and Bethany’s school bag thudded on to the floor.
Hamilton was still so sleepy that, for the moment, he had forgotten all about the Kitty. He peeped out from the nest box and saw Bethany smiling down at him.
‘Hello, Hamilton!’ she said. ‘You look very cosy in –’ Then she stopped and went to the door. ‘Sorry, M
um, what did you say?’
For a minute, Bethany stood at the bedroom door while Mum said something that Hamilton couldn’t hear. She came back with a bang of the door that made the cage tremble.
‘Kitty’s coming!’ she exclaimed. ‘Why do we have to have Kitty! She’s a monster!’
Hamilton bolted backwards into the box and hid. Not only a cat, but a monster cat! How much worse could it get?
Deep in the nest, Hamilton listened hard for any sound that could warn him of the approach of the Kitty. A monster cat would have a monstrous mew, surely, and a purr like the roaring of an engine. Sure enough, there were alarming noises coming from Sam’s bedroom – very alarming noises – but they didn’t sound a bit like a cat. He heard a long, miserable groan. There was a pause, a creak, a squeak, a hoot and, at last, silence.
That was better. Whatever had been making that noise, it didn’t sound happy.
Then the silence was broken by an enormous roar like the bellowing of a dinosaur with its foot stuck in the swamp. Only a Kitty Monster could make a noise like that! It must be the size of an elephant! Two elephants! He hoped it wasn’t hungry!
Hamilton peeped out to see Bethany’s face up close to his cage. She had sorted out her books and changed out of her school uniform and was looking a bit puzzled and disappointed. Hamilton knew that Bethany would be wondering why he wasn’t ready to come out of his cage and play.
‘Hamilton?’ she said. ‘You’ve been hiding in there ever since I came home. Are you all right?’
Hamilton glanced around the room to make sure he couldn’t see anything that might be a Monstrous Kitty, and scrambled out of the nest box to the bars of his cage. The dinosaur bellowed again and he dived into a corner.
‘Oh, Hamilton, is that what frightened you?’ she said. ‘That’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s only Sam playing his trombone.’