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some trees. ‘It’s by the river. There’s bound to be a café in there.’
    The rain had softened into a drizzle so we put up our hoods and headed off. The park was no more than an expanse of lawn leading down to the river. No sign of a café. There weren’t many people about, but we could hear raised voices coming from down near the river.
    ‘Shall we check that out?’ said Caitlin. ‘Someone might be in trouble.’
    We crept nearer and hid behind a tree – a girl and a boy, a few years older than us, were having a row.
    ‘Lovers’ tiff?’ I whispered to Caitlin.
    ‘I recognise that girl. She goes to our school,’ said Caitlin. ‘I think she’s called Poppy. I heard that her dad is some bigwig at the council.’
    ‘Not very friendly,’ I said. ‘She’s another of the snooty girls.’
    ‘Look, the boy’s got something in his hand, a bag and – it seems to be moving on its own.’
    ‘Something is alive in that bag!’ I said.
    ‘Either that or it’s a good trick,’ said Caitlin.
    ‘You were going to drown that!’ we heard Poppy say, her voice raised even more.
    It was then I saw a tiny tabby face peek out of the bag. ‘Oh my God, Caitlin, it’s a kitten,’ I said.
    ‘I was trying to save it, you idiot,’ said the boy, just as angrily as Poppy. ‘I saw a man getting ready to throw it in the river! He ran off when he saw me coming – then I heard meowing.’
    Just at that moment, Caitlin stepped on a twig and the couple turned to look at us.
    ‘Is someone there?’ asked the boy.
    ‘What shall we do?’ I whispered.
    Caitlin shrugged. ‘Not sure, but we have to make sure that kitten is OK.’
    I took a deep breath and stepped out from our hiding place. ‘I . . . er . . . we heard voices.’
    Poppy and the boy stared at us.
    ‘Snooping?’ asked the boy. He looked about fourteen and, although he had a nice face, he had a surly expression.
    Caitlin stepped out to join me. ‘We thought someone might be in trouble.’
    ‘Someone was,’ said the boy. ‘This kitten. A man was going to chuck it in the river and now this silly girl is trying to blame me.’
    ‘Don’t you call me a silly girl,’ retorted Poppy. She was dressed in skinny jeans and the kind of tweed jacket that horse riders wear.
    I walked towards them. ‘Well, it’s safe now.’
    ‘Yeah, exactly,’ said the boy. ‘Who are you, anyway?’
    ‘Amy Westall,’ I said.
    ‘And I’m Caitlin O’Neill.’ Caitlin extended her hand with an over-dramatic flourish. ‘Who are
you
?’
    ‘None of your business,’ said the boy. ‘Do you always eavesdrop on people’s conversations?’
    ‘It was hardly a conversation—’ I started to say.
    ‘
Everyone
knows who you are,’ said Poppy to the boy. ‘You’re Liam Fisher. Everyone in the village knows your family. Well, your dad, anyway.’
    Liam’s face went red, but he didn’t respond.
    ‘What are you going to do with that kitten?’ asked Caitlin.
    Liam looked down at the bag and the little worried face peeking out. ‘Not sure yet. I’ll think of something.’ He jumped on to a skateboard by his feet and sped off, taking the tabby kitten with him.
    ‘Bring that kitten back right now!’ Poppy called after him. ‘I don’t trust you with it!’
    ‘Your problem, not mine, Princess Perfect,’ he called back over his shoulder.
    ‘I know I’ve only just met him, but I don’t think he’d hurt an animal,’ I said, ‘especially a kitten. He seemed very annoyed that you thought he was a kitten-drowner. He’s probably taking it somewhere safe.’
    As I said this, I heard the scrape of skateboard wheels getting louder again. Liam had turned around and now shoved the bag at me. ‘No, I wouldn’t hurt it.’ He looked pointedly at Poppy. ‘But here, you take it, Westall. Your dad’s the new vet, isn’t he? You’re one of the animal rescue people. You sort it out.’ He turned to Poppy. ‘Satisfied now?’
    ‘I can’t take it, Liam,’ I said. ‘We’re not a