Max’s Adventures with His Loyal Friends

Max’s Adventures with His Loyal Friends
Marina Golomidova

Little Max lives in his Auntie Jane’s house with his five loyal feline friends. Their life is filled with love and kindness, along with amusing little adventures. Suddenly they have to face cruelty and injustice. Their friendship will see them through many dangers and desperate situations.The book is written in the re-emerging traditions of family reading that would give parents a great opportunity to connect with their children.

Max’s Adventures with His Loyal Friends

Marina Golomidova

Translator William Mann

Illustrator Ekaterina Bakhareva

© Marina Golomidova, 2020

© William Mann, translation, 2020

© Ekaterina Bakhareva, illustrations, 2020

ISBN 978-5-0051-3459-2

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

Chapter 1. Auntie Jane’s House and its Residents

In London, in the borough of Islington, there’s a house – a tall house of four storeys with turrets, spires, chimneys, and weathervanes that spin around when the wind blows. And in this house live four cats: limping Hunter with his glossy black fur; Matilda, the tiny Siamese princess; handsome Tom with his fluffy coat and tufted ears; and flirty, flame-haired Sienna.

The first of them to move into the house was Hunter. A few years before, he’d been living under a bridge – he used to hunt mice and live off the scraps thrown to him each night by kind-hearted Billy, the kitchen boy in the restaurant next door. But one day, chasing after a little grey mouse, Hunter got hit by a car. And no doubt he wouldn’t have survived if it hadn’t been for Auntie Jane, the owner of the house in Islington, who came to the poor cat’s rescue as he lay dying by the side of the road.

Poor Hunter was in an awful state: he had a nasty cut to the head and broken paws. He couldn’t even lift up his tail to greet this kindly woman who’d picked him up from the pavement.

But Hunter was taken to hospital for an operation and he managed to pull through – although afterwards he couldn’t run fast any more. Once in the new house he got his strength back in no time and grew plump and stately. On his birthday Auntie Jane gave him a beautiful carved walking stick that was studded with jewels, a hat that was stuck with a goose feather, and a pair of reading glasses – because Hunter, although he couldn’t go hunting any more, had started to read and even write books on the subject.

The next to arrive at the house was Matilda. She was of royal birth, a real princess, and she’d come to London from far away – from sultry Thailand – to meet her husband-to-be, who was a tomcat of very high standing. But on the sky-blue steamship that was taking her across the ocean she came down with a dreadful bout of seasickness, and her fur, which had been so silky and delicate, lost its mother-of-pearl shine and then started to fall out. When at last Matilda arrived in London she had lost all trace of her former beauty, and the tomcat’s owners turned up their noses at her. Poor Matilda was sent to a pet shop, but nobody wanted to buy her, even though she really did come from Siamese royalty. Customers would say, “Don’t try that with us! There’s no way such an ugly cat could be a princess! And besides, she’d leave fur all over the floor!” It was all very painful for Matilda. After all, she was used to being admired wherever she went. She’d been a great beauty: elegant and graceful, with a magnificent coat the colour of pearl. Matilda was so unhappy that she just lay there and wept and wept – which only annoyed the customers and the pet-shop owner even more. In a fit of anger the owner wrote on her cage: “Anyone who buys this cat gets a free box of tasty cat food.” But somehow nobody wanted to buy her even with the cat food thrown in. Matilda might have died of a broken heart there in the pet shop if it hadn’t been for Max – Auntie Jane’s nephew – who came across Matilda when he went to buy food for Hunter. Now, by this time Max had learned cat-language from Hunter, so he instantly knew why she was crying so piteously. He felt desperately sorry for the little cat, so thin and shabby and grieving so bitterly, and he asked his auntie to buy Matilda. Well, everyone knows that Auntie Jane is the kindest auntie in all the world – and naturally she did as Max asked her straight away.

So Matilda came to live in the house in Islington with the turrets and the weathervanes. Hunter was just delighted with the newcomer, and – true gentleman that he was – showered her with compliments. There wasn’t a trace of doubt in his mind that she was a real Siamese princess – and of course, all it takes is for somebody to believe in you to make your sorrows disappear. In no time at all, Matilda’s dazzling beauty had returned. And as for her perfect manners and her regal bearing, well, nobody could have taken them from her.

A few months later, the number of furry residents in the house grew again. One gloomy day, in the last month of the winter, there was a knock at the door. Auntie Jane came downstairs to see who was there. But there was nobody to be seen – just a large basket wrapped up in an old sheet. She lifted up the edge of the sheet and found two little kittens inside. They were absolutely tiny, but so adorable! The first one, slightly bigger, had a dark coat with white paws and long tufts on his ears. One glance was enough to see that the second cat – slightly smaller with a flame-coloured coat – was a girl: she had flirty eyes that were full of life, and long eyelashes.

Max’s auntie called for him. He came at once, and as soon as he saw the kittens his heart was filled with happiness.

“Are these kittens ours?” he asked.

His auntie shook her head.

“I don’t know whose they are, or how they got here. I think we’ll need to call the police so they can try and find the owners.”

“Oh Auntie, let’s not call the police, they can stay here with us. They were brought to us on purpose, after all! And I promise to look after them myself!”

“But we’ve already got Hunter and Matilda. You don’t think they’ll mind us bringing two more furry residents into the house?”

“No, Auntie. Hunter and Matilda are so kind-hearted – and they’ll be happy to have some new friends here.”

The kittens were looking at Max with smiles on their faces. They’d taken to him straight away. And he asked them in cat-language, “What are your names?”

“I’m Tom, and my sister’s called Sienna. Our owner left us and she never came back. We were all on our own for three days. We were hungry and cried so loudly that a neighbour heard us. After feeding us she decided to bring us here to your house – because everyone knows that Jane is so sweet and kind.”

Then beautiful Matilda came out onto the front porch, looked at the kittens and said to Max, “Mmmrrrrr, but who are these splendid creatures? I’d be more than happy to look after them.”

Then came Hunter – he put his glasses on, stroked Auntie Jane’s left leg with his tail, and purred indulgently: “Welcome to our humble abode!” Sienna turned her pretty little eyes towards Hunter, climbed out of the basket, shook out her little apron with its pink frills, and then stepped into the house with great dignity.

That’s how it came to be that there were four friends together in the house in Islington: Hunter, Matilda, Tom and Sienna. And you’ll hear all about their adventures in the tales to come.

Chapter 2. The First Evening

On the night that the kittens were left there on the front porch of the house with the weathervanes, Hunter suggested that Tom could live in his study – but Sienna said she wouldn’t be split up from her brother, not for the world. Well, Auntie Jane’s was a big house, so it was decided that both the kittens could stay in the cosy little pantry by the kitchen. And it would have been hard to find a better spot! The walls were hung with aromatic herbs tied up in bunches, the shelves laden with jars of home-made jam and pickles, and hanging from the ceiling there were two enormous hams. Max set up a little bunk bed in the corner and laid down a soft woollen shawl. Sienna climbed straight into the top bunk, curled up into a little ball and fell asleep.

“Poor kitties!” sighed Auntie Jane. “Well, at least now they’ll have a place to call their own, and they won’t be abandoned again. And now I think I’ll make everyone some warm milk.”

Auntie Jane went into the kitchen, while Max stayed in the pantry. He sat down on the rug, picked up Tom and began to stroke him behind the ears. Tom started to purr with pleasure – and purred so loudly that he even woke up Sienna. She clambered up onto Max’s lap alongside Tom and meowed, “Oh, stroke meeee now… You’ve been scratching Tom’s ears for just aaaages…” Max started to laugh. “Of course I’ll give you a stroke too, Sienna. No need to get jealous!”

Tom turned to Sienna and started to groom her tail – she took great pride in making sure it was always at its cleanest and fluffiest, and Tom helped her keep it that way.

Watching Tom, Max could tell right away how kind and considerate he was. Meanwhile Sienna had rolled on her back and was starting to stretch out her little paws with pleasure. Then in the doorway appeared the neatly pressed creases of a snowy-white apron, followed by some cups on a silver tray – and finally Auntie Jane herself, her blond hair tied up in a bun as usual. “I’ve brought you some warm milk,” she said. “But don’t drink too much now, because there’s a celebration feast waiting for you. In honour of our new arrivals I’m making something extra special.” And giving them a loving smile, she headed back to the kitchen.

Before long, they were all gathered in the sitting room. On a long dining table, candles were lit – all in tall silver candlesticks elegantly cast with decorative roses. And in the middle rose a great big soup bowl, which gave off such a tantalising smell that every mouth began to water. “Pass me your bowls and I’ll serve you out some Norwegian soup. I do hope you’ll like it.”

And sure enough, the soup was delicious: swimming in the thick creamy broth were chunks of white and red fish, prawns, scallops, and even an enormous red lobster – which seemed to goggle its great black eyes right at Sienna. “He’s going to get me with those claws of his! I’m scared!” she cried, and she was ready to jump straight down from the table – but she calmed down when she saw Hunter haul the lobster onto his plate, flip it over and take out all the fragrant meat, leaving just the scooped-out, not nearly so frightening shell.

For dessert Auntie Jane had made ice cream. She brought it to the table in little glasses, all of different colours, and asked everyone to choose their favourite colour. Hunter took a dark blue glass, Matilda a clear glass with a white pattern, Tom a green glass, and Sienna a light blue glass with touches of violet. Max’s glass was the most striking of all – it was red, and the base shone with milky-white stars. The cats purred with pleasure as they tucked into their ice cream – so much so that Max couldn’t resist imitating them. “Ice crrrrrream! Ice crrrrrream!” he giggled. Sienna finished up sooner than any of them. She started kneading with her paws and sending pleading looks at Auntie Jane – who guessed what she wanted straight away. “Just don’t eat quite so fast, my dear, unless you want your throat to get sore,” she smiled, scooping out more of the vanilla ice cream for Sienna. “Now, who else wants seconds?” All as one, the other cats raised their tails to signal that they wouldn’t say no.

After dinner, Matilda took charge: “Now then, little ones, it’s time to have a quick wash, clean your teeth and get to bed!” Sienna immediately started to play up. “I don’t want to clean my teeth! And I don’t want to get washed either!” Hunter raised the tip of his tail in warning and said, “Let me tell you what happened to me when I was little and I didn’t want to get washed at bedtime.” He lowered himself into the armchair by the fire and – once more with the tip of his tail – beckoned the little ones closer.

Sienna and Tom sat down at Hunter’s feet. Their ears were pricked up and turned to listen. Max took up a spot on the rug nearby.

“When I was very young,” began Hunter…

…I lived with my mother and my brothers and sisters in a basement by the Thames. Our mum always taught us to clean our fur as often as we could – but we, if I’m honest, were none too keen on grooming ourselves. Not when there were tempting distractions everywhere you looked! Butterflies, grasshoppers, mice – we could have chased them all day long! Well, I decided that I didn’t really need to get washed, and I started to tell fibs. I’d tell my mother that I’d had a wash somewhere else. But after a few days, strange things started to happen to me: at first my ears started to itch, then my paws, my tummy, and then even my tail! It wasn’t nice at all, but I tried to ignore it. By the next day things had really got bad: my fur had got all tangled into a thick mat, and in the morning when I came for my milk, my own mother didn’t even recognise me.

“Who is this monster?!” she howled. “I’ve never set eyes on you before! Get out of my house, you gruesome beast, before my children wake up and die of fright!”

“Mummy, it’s me, Hunter! How can you not recognise me?!”

“How dare you!” my mother raged. “I’ll have you know my Hunter is a beautiful kitten with a coat as smooth as silk – he doesn’t look like a grimy slipper pulled out from under the stove!”

And she snatched up a broom and chased me out of the house. I sat in the road and cried my eyes out. Luckily for me, our neighbour happened to pass by – she was an elderly cat from next door. I threw myself at her:

“Miss Fanny…” – that was her name – “Miss Fanny, it’s me, Hunter! Help me – my mummy’s thrown me out of the house!”

“Surely not! How could it have happened?”