The Midnight Visitor. The Pharaoh's Curse

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“Mrrrowww.” Tasha rolled over and waved her tiny striped paws in the air. The wide stone steps that led up to the museum entrance were warm from the sun and she was so deliciously sleepy. There was a light breeze blowing off the river and she could hear gulls calling over the water.

“You’re getting your fur dirty, Tasha,” said a disapproving voice, and the tabby kitten opened one green eye to see who was talking to her. “Ma says we mustn’t get our fur dirty – we should be clean and neat at all times.”

“Oh hush, Bianca.” Tasha closed her eye again, but it was no good. Her sister was still there – she could feel her. Bianca was blocking out the spring sunshine and now the afternoon felt dull and chilly.

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“Ma says,” Bianca insisted. She sat down next to Tasha and started to wash. She didn’t need to – her white fur was spotless as always. Even her paw pads were perfectly pink and it looked as though she’d combed her beautiful whiskers.

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