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Winston and the Marmalade Cat

Page 7

by Megan Rix


  ‘At ease, soldier,’ said Sir Winston. ‘No need for formality here. Hello, Ned, my old friend.’

  ‘Winny,’ Old Ned said, as the two of them patted each other on the back in a friendly hug. Callie woke up and came running over, tail wagging, wanting to join in too.

  ‘Who’s this then?’ Sir Winston asked, stroking the yellow Labrador. ‘What a lovely dog.’

  ‘That’s Callie,’ Harry said.

  ‘Sorry, sir,’ said Harry’s dad. ‘She likes to say hello to everyone.’

  ‘Don’t apologize,’ Sir Winston told him. ‘The more pets the merrier, I say. And dogs are a man’s best friend after all.’

  Jock gave a miaow and Sir Winston chuckled.

  ‘Oh, all right,’ he said, as if he understood exactly what Jock was trying to say. ‘Cats are wonderful too.’

  Jock miaowed again and Sir Winston added, ‘Even more wonderful perhaps. Cats have been loyal companions and friends and foot-warmers to me my whole life. Remember Sergeant Tommy, Ned?’

  Ned nodded. ‘I’ll never forget him. He was the first of many marmalade cats over the years.’

  The red admiral butterfly had flown over the wall and Jock and Little Houdini were now lying in a sunny spot over by the sunflowers.

  ‘I’m so glad dear Jock has a cat friend to play with at Chartwell,’ Sir Winston said.

  Little Houdini stretched out his paws and rolled over on to his back and Jock did the same.

  ‘They look so happy together,’ said Harry.

  He’d never forget the day he’d rescued the muddy little feral kitten and everything that had happened since.

  Sir Winston smiled and nodded. ‘They do. You know, I think there should always be a marmalade rescue cat living at Chartwell; napping in sunny spots, chasing butterflies through the long grass and eating until their tummy’s full.’

  Everyone agreed that would be perfect.

  And so there was.

  Quiz Time!

  How well do you know the story of Winston and the Marmalade Cat?

  Questions:

  Which animal did Sir Winston get as a birthday present?

  Where did Harry rescue the kitten from?

  What did Mr Jenner feed the rescued kitten at the RSPCA centre?

  What was the name of Sir Winston Churchill’s home in Kent?

  What was Harry’s teacher’s name?

  When was VE day?

  Why did Harry call the cat Little Houdini?

  Why doesn’t Harry like Sir Winston Churchill at the beginning of the story?

  What badge was Harry given for rescuing the kitten?

  What nickname did Ned give to Winston Churchill when they were children?

  What did Winston’s school report say about him?

  How much stronger is a cat’s sense of smell than a human’s?

  What job is Harry’s dad given at Chartwell?

  What was the name of Harry’s dad’s guide dog?

  Who was Churchill’s grey homeless cat named after?

  Answers:

  A marmalade cat

  A pipe

  Goat’s milk with an egg yolk and a little sugar

  Chartwell

  Mrs Dunbar

  8 May 1945

  He had escaped his cage three times, as if by magic!

  Harry blamed Churchill for his dad’s blindness

  An Animal Defenders badge

  Winny

  That he would never amount to much

  It’s fourteen times stronger than a human’s

  Gardener

  Callie

  Admiral Nelson

  Scrumptious Scones

  Harry, Old Ned and Grace love tea and scones, especially after they’ve been running around after Little Houdini in the snow. Have a go at making your own delicious scones using this recipe!

  The recipe makes enough for eight people, so you can share with your friends and family too.

  Remember to ask an adult to help you, as you’ll be using a hot oven (and making a mess in the kitchen!).

  You will need:

  350g self-raising flour

  Pinch of salt

  1 tsp baking powder

  85g butter (cut this into cubes)

  3 tbsp caster sugar

  175ml milk

  1 egg, beaten (for glazing)

  A mixing bowl

  A jug

  A biscuit cutter

  A baking tray

  How to make them:

  Heat your oven to 220°C/Gas mark 7.

  Tip the flour into a large bowl with the salt and baking powder, then mix.

  Rub the butter into the flour mix with your fingers until the mix looks like small, even crumbs.

  Stir in the sugar.

  Put the milk into a microwavable jug or bowl, and heat for about 30 seconds until warm.

  Make a well in the flour mix using your fingers, then add the milk and combine slowly. Don’t worry if it seems a bit wet at first; you will end up with a soft dough that does not feel sticky.

  At this point, you will need to ask an adult to put a baking tray in the oven to warm up for use later.

  Scatter some extra flour on to the work top and tip the dough out.

  Dust the dough with a little more flour, then fold it over 2–3 times so it becomes a little smoother.

  Here comes the fun bit! Pat your dough gently out until it is about 4-cm thick.

  Make sure an adult is nearby to help, then push the cutter into the dough with all your muscles! Repeat until you have used up all the dough. You can roll the leftover bits of dough into one and pat back out for cutting.

  Brush the tops of the scones with the beaten egg. Now ask an adult to help you place them on to the hot baking tray.

  Bake for 10 minutes until they have risen and turned a yummy golden colour on top. Remove from the oven and set them on a baking rack.

  And finally … the best bit! Eat the scones warm or cold on the day you baked them. Harry recommends eating scones with cream and lashings of strawberry jam. Or why not try some marmalade, for a Little Houdini twist?

  The Life of Sir Winston Churchill

  Now find out a bit more about the life of Sir Winston Churchill!

  About

  Winston Churchill was Britain’s famous wartime leader. He was the Prime Minister of Great Britain during the Second World War.

  He was born at Blenheim Palace, near Oxford, in 1874.

  He was best known for his resilience against Hitler and the Nazis, as well as his rousing speeches.

  He died in 1965, having lived through both the First and Second World Wars.

  Early Life

  Poor Winston never really enjoyed school and he was not very highly regarded by his teachers either. He often got into trouble and his school report famously said that he ‘would never amount to much’. How wrong they were!

  It has been said that Churchill struggled with a lisp as a child, but that didn’t stop him from becoming one of the most famous and inspiring public speakers in British history.

  War and Adventures

  Churchill never shied away from adventure, and after leaving school he travelled to many exotic faraway places, working as reporter in America and Cuba, and fighting in the army in the Boer War.

  After working as an MP, he became Prime Minister in May 1940, leading Britain in the war against the Nazis. He was well liked and boosted the morale of British citizens by walking through London during the Blitz and making the ‘V’ sign for victory.

  Pet Lover

  Churchill loved animals, and had many wonderful pets through the years. Many of which you will recognize from this story: Rufus the poodle and Rufus 2; his cats, Nelson and Jock; as well as pigs, a bulldog, goldfish, black swans, butterflies, kangaroos and even a lion!

  Acknowledgements

  The story of how Sir Winston Churchill wished there always to be a cat like his own beloved marmalade one, Jock, living at his home in Chartwell, Kent, helped to inspire this book
. Sir Winston loved animals and had pets throughout his life, including two miniature brown poodles, both called Rufus. He also gave a miniature black poodle to Grace Hamblin, his secretary for over 30 years, who became the first curator of Chartwell after Sir Winston died. Along with Jock the cat, Grace’s poodle met some of the early visitors to the house – and one of them wrote about meeting not one but two marmalade cats.

  It was a bitterly cold day in Kent when I met my brother, Robin, his partner, Eunice, and my niece, Jasmine, at the estate. We didn’t get to meet the current resident cat (Jock number six), but I loved hearing tales of Jasmine’s own marmalade cat, Amber. I took one of my golden retrievers, Freya, with me and she was made very welcome by the Chartwell staff, and enjoyed all the strokes and fusses that were made of her as well as a tasty snack from the cafe. Freya had only just finished eating it when snow began to fall. In no time at all, we were surrounded by swirling snow and grit was being laid so cars could drive out of the car park. All in all, our visit was an unforgettable experience.

  Researching and writing this book has been an absolute delight and I would like to thank my amazing editor Carmen McCullough, copy-editors Bea McIntyre and Frances Evans, and proofreaders Mary Finch and Sally Boyles. The cover for Winston and the Marmalade Cat is beautiful, thanks to the talents of artist Angelo Rinaldi and designer Jan Bielecki. On the PR and marketing side huge thanks must go to Jasmine Joynson and Lucie Sharpe, along with sales experts Tineke Mollemans and Kirsty Bradbury. My agent and friend Clare Pearson of Eddison Pearson has been with me throughout most of my career and made it a much happier one than it would have been without her ☺

  Lastly to my dogs Bella and Freya who inspire me every day and are currently waiting to go to the river for a walk. As well, as always, to my dear husband, Eric.

  If you’ve enjoyed the story of Winston and his marmalade cat, you’ll love reading about King Charles II’s spaniel Tiger Lily and her friend Woofer in The Great Fire Dogs.

  Turn the page for a little taste.

  Megan Rix

  THE GREAT FIRE DOGS

  February 1666

  On the snow-covered south side of the River Thames, a red-faced man wearing a patched, woollen green coat and a grubby, rust-coloured waistcoat stood next to a wicker basket. Squashed inside the basket were six dock-tailed Wicklow terrier puppies.

  ‘Wheelers – wheeler pups for sale!’ the man shouted into the icy-cold air. He blew on his fingers to try and warm them up. Next to him, a man was roasting chestnuts on a fire but the dog seller couldn’t afford to buy any until he’d sold a puppy. He pulled the lid off the wicker basket beside him, reached into it and grabbed the first puppy he touched by the scruff of its neck. ‘These little dogs were born to work in the kitchen,’ he called out to the passing people as the cream-coated puppy tried to wriggle free. ‘Born to turn the cooking wheel.’

  In the wicker basket, one of the puppies, the one who had been getting squashed by the first puppy’s bottom, popped his head out to look at the snowy winter scene. The snow had come down hard overnight and London had woken covered in a thick white coat. There were stalls positioned all along the white banks of the river, many of them selling food. Hot pies and roast meat as well as chestnuts and gingerbread. The puppy sniffed at the delicious smells in the air and gave a whine.

  ‘My turnspit dog got out during the plague last year and that was the last I saw of him,’ a woman with an apron over her long brown skirt told the puppy seller. ‘Caught by one of those awful dog catchers, no doubt.’

  The puppy seller nodded. There used to be lots of dogs and cats in London’s streets, most of them strays, but not any more. They were thought to carry the plague and people had been paid good money to catch and kill them.

  The king’s official order had been that: ‘No Swine, Dogs, Cats or tame Pigeons be permitted to pass up and down in Streets, or from house to house, in places Infected.’ But the lord mayor of London had taken things a step further and ordered all stray cats and dogs to be put down, just like the last time there’d been a plague and the time before that too.

  ‘I heard forty thousand dogs and two hundred thousand cats lost their lives,’ the dog seller told the woman.

  While they were talking, the puppy that had been looking out of the top of the basket scrambled free and headed off on his short puppy legs towards the frozen water’s edge.

  On the other side of the river, across the long bridge full of houses and shops, twelve-year-old George, palace kitchen apprentice, looked over at the skaters on the wide expanse of frozen water. Their sharp, iron-bladed skates made swishing sounds as they cut through the ice like butter. He watched in admiration as they weaved in and out of the arches under London Bridge. The bridge acted like a weir, turning the water sluggish so it was more likely to freeze. In places the ice was more than five feet thick and perfect for skating. George wished he could skate.

  Some winters, when the vast Thames froze even harder than this, they held Frost Fairs on the river. Stalls were set up on the ice and people walked about on the river as if it were a street, but it wasn’t frozen enough for that yet.

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  First published 2017

  Text copyright © Megan Rix, 2017

  Cover illustration by Angelo Rinaldi

  The moral right of the author has been asserted

  ISBN: 978
-0-141-38573-0

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