Star Dreams Read online

  Contents

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Sue Bentley’s books for children often include animals or fairies. She lives in Northampton and enjoys reading, going to the cinema, and sitting watching the frogs and newts in her garden pond. If she hadn’t been a writer, she would probably have been a skydiver or brain surgeon. The main reason she writes is that she can drink pots and pots of tea while she’s typing. She has met and owned many cats, and each one has brought a special sort of magic to her life.

  To Bernie – little blue-cream sister

  PROLOGUE

  As a terrifying roar rang out, the young white lion froze. He should have known it was too dangerous to come back home. He needed to act quickly.

  Sparks crackled in Flame’s fur and there was a flash of dazzling white light. Where he had stood now sat a silky cream kitten with spotted brown markings.

  An old grey lion appeared in the long grass at Flame’s side. ‘Prince Flame! You shouldn’t be here. You must hide!’

  ‘There is no time, Cirrus!’ Flame mewed, trembling. ‘Uncle Ebony is almost upon us!’

  With a paw almost as big as Flame now was himself, Cirrus gently drew the kitten down to hide in the long grass beside him.

  The ground shook as an enormous adult lion pushed through the grass. He stopped barely a metre away from the tiny cream kitten and the old lion. Raising his head, he shook his mane and sniffed the air.

  Flame’s heart beat fast in his little body. He was sure they would be found.

  At last, Ebony seemed satisfied. He began moving away. ‘My nephew will never regain the throne. It is mine now. My spies will find him soon!’ he rumbled to himself.

  Flame waited until Ebony had gone, then scrambled to his feet. His emerald eyes flashed with anger. ‘One day I shall rule, Cirrus!’

  Cirrus showed his worn teeth in a smile. ‘Indeed you will, Prince Flame, but first you must grow strong and powerful. Use your kitten disguise and return now to the other world.’

  Silver sparks glittered in Flame’s cream and brown fur as the tiny kitten felt the power building inside him. He mewed a sad farewell and felt himself falling. Falling …

  CHAPTER ONE

  When Jemma Watson saw the new poster on the school noticeboard, she felt her heart beat faster.

  Have you got what it takes to be a star?

  Auditions for places at A-One Stage School.

  Town hall. Saturday 6 May.

  Everyone welcome.

  Jemma did a quick sum in her head. The auditions were the Saturday after next. Today was Thursday, so she had just over a week to get ready.

  ‘Isn’t it brilliant! Are you going for it?’ asked an excited voice at her shoulder. It was Fran Bradshaw, the newest girl in Jemma’s class.

  Jemma knew that some of the schoolkids thought Fran was a bit posh. But she hadn’t had much chance to get to know her yet. Anyway, she liked to make up her own mind about people.

  She turned and smiled at Fran. ‘I haven’t decided yet. I don’t know if I’d be good enough.’

  ‘Me too. It’s a bit scary, isn’t it?’ Fran said, her blue eyes wide.

  Jemma grinned. She tossed her long brown hair over her shoulder. ‘Scary is a big hairy spider in the bath. Or telling Mr Butler you haven’t done your homework!’

  Fran laughed. ‘You’re right. So going for this audition is …’

  ‘Terrifying!’ Jemma said, rolling her eyes. She shouldered her school bag and went towards the school exit with Fran. They passed the playing fields and tennis courts as they walked down the drive. Beyond the front gates, Jemma could see lots of cars drawing up ready to pick kids up and take them home.

  ‘I’ve got an idea,’ Fran said. ‘Why don’t we practise our routines together? You could come round tonight. We can ask my mum. She’s coming to pick me up.’

  Jemma’s spirits sank. She would love to accept Fran’s invitation. ‘I can’t tonight,’ she said reluctantly.

  ‘OK.’ Fran’s pretty face clouded, then she brightened. ‘What about tomorrow night? I could come to your house straight after school, if you like.’

  ‘No!’ It was out before Jemma could stop herself. ‘Sorry. I mean, I’ll have to let you know.’

  Fran gave her a puzzled look, but she shrugged. ‘Fine by me.’

  They had reached the school gate and Jemma saw Fran run over to a sleek silver car. It had an open roof and smart leather seats. It looked very expensive.

  ‘Hi, darling,’ Mrs Bradshaw called to her daughter. ‘Who’s your new friend? Would she like a lift home?’

  ‘Thanks, Mrs Bradshaw, but I haven’t got far to go,’ Jemma called out quickly. ‘See you tomorrow, Fran!’

  Jemma opened the shabby front door and edged round the pushchair and broken bike blocking the hall. She went into the kitchen.

  ‘Hi, Mum,’ she called.

  Mrs Watson was cutting up potatoes. ‘Hi, love. Good day at school?’

  ‘It was OK,’ Jemma replied. She told her mum about the poster as she filled the sink with hot water and started washing the pile of breakfast dishes. ‘It’s a great chance to get into stage school, isn’t it? Can I go in for the auditions?’ she asked eagerly.

  Mrs Watson smiled. ‘I think you should. You’ve got a lovely voice.’

  Jemma went over to give her a hug. ‘Thanks, Mum. I might practise with Fran Bradshaw, a new girl in my class. She’s really nice.’

  Mrs Watson patted her daughter’s arm. ‘You should be spending more time with your friends, instead of helping at home all the time.’

  ‘I don’t mind,’ Jemma said, going across to her baby sister, Poppy, who sat in a high chair chewing her toast. Poppy gave Jemma a gummy grin.

  ‘Hello, Cheeky!’ Jemma kissed her sister’s fluffy blonde head before going to the sink to fill the kettle. ‘I’ll make us a cup of tea.’

  ‘Lovely! I’ve just got time for one before I collect the papers.’ Mrs Watson did a paper round every night after she got home from her job at the supermarket. Sometimes Jemma helped her deliver the papers.

  ‘Maybe you could ask Fran round sometime?’ Mrs Watson suggested.

  Jemma glanced through the kitchen window at the tall weeds and blown-down garden fence. A picture of Fran’s mum’s smart car filled her mind.

  ‘I might do,’ she said, but she knew she wouldn’t.

  A guilty feeling welled up inside her. Her mum was a single parent and she did the best she could, but Jemma sometimes got fed up of always having to make do.

  ‘Bah, bah!’ Poppy said, squashing toast in her chubby hands.

  ‘Same to you!’ Jemma bent down so that her face was level with her baby sister’s. Poppy was a happy little girl with a sweet round face and big brown eyes.

  ‘I’m going to go to an audition and win a place to stage school. Yes, I am!’ Jemma said in a playful voice, so that Poppy gurgled with laughter.

  ‘Oh, yeah! Who says so?’ shouted a cheeky voice.

  ‘Hi, Georgie!’ Jemma didn’t turn round as her brother came crashing through the back door. At eight years old, he was two years younger than Jemma. She heard the clunks as his football boots and then his school bag landed in a heap on the floor.

  ‘I’m starving! What’s for tea?’ demanded Georgie.

  ‘It’s not ready yet.’ Jemma straightened up and spun round. ‘Oh!’

  Georgie stood there, grinning. There was mud all over his school trousers. His white shirt was streaked with grass stains. And as for his face – Jemma could hardly see his freckles for all the mud spatte
rs.

  ‘What?’ said Georgie, shrugging his shoulders.

  Jemma couldn’t understand how boys always get so messy. Put Georgie in a totally empty room and he’d come out looking like he’d been fighting with Fungus the Bogeyman!

  Mrs Watson turned round. She shook her head slowly at Georgie. ‘Oh, my goodness! What are you like? You’d better get changed and have a bath.’

  Georgie plonked himself down at the table. ‘Can’t now. I’ll pass out if I don’t eat something.’

  Jemma grinned at her brother. ‘Milk and biscuits OK?’ She opened the fridge and took out the milk container. It was empty. ‘I’ll have to go to the shop. Keep an eye on Poppy while Mum’s cooking,’ she told Georgie.

  ‘OK. But there’s no way I’m changing her,’ Georgie said around a mouthful of biscuit.

  Jemma asked her mum for some money, and then set off for Mr Shah’s newsagent’s. It took her a couple of minutes to walk to the end of the street and cross the road. Mr Shah sold all kinds of food and sweets as well as newspapers and magazines. Jemma got the milk, then used the last of her pocket money to buy a cherry cake that was on special offer. They could all have it for pudding.

  As she came out of the shop, something in the side alley caught her eye. She stopped and stared at the wheelie bins and piles of cardboard boxes. There it was again. A bright glow was coming from behind one of the bins.

  Jemma frowned. She went into the alley and bent down to look behind the bin. Puzzled, Jemma wondered if it might be some kind of lamp that someone had thrown away before the batteries had run down.

  Then the glow started to get brighter. Whatever it was, was coming towards her!

  Jemma almost dropped the milk. Two bright emerald eyes stared at her from the gloom.

  There was an angry hissing noise and suddenly Jemma realized what she was staring at.

  An enormous white lion crept slowly out from behind the bin and walked towards Jemma, his head held high and tail erect. A fountain of silver sparks fizzed and crackled in the air around him.

  Jemma froze in terror, her heart in her mouth. What was a lion doing here? Was he going to attack her?

  ‘I am Prince Flame. Heir to the Lion Throne,’ growled the lion. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘Whoa!’ Jemma almost jumped out of her skin. He could talk!

  CHAPTER TWO

  Panic clutched at Jemma’s chest. She stood there in complete shock as Flame put his head on one side, waiting for an answer.

  ‘I’m … er, Jemma. Jemma Watson. I live just round the corner,’ she stammered nervously. The amazing white lion’s claws and teeth were very long and sharp.

  Flame’s eyes narrowed as he gave a satisfied smile. ‘Ah. You are a friend. Good,’ he purred.

  There was a dazzling silver flash.

  Jemma was blinded for a second. She blinked hard and rubbed her eyes. When she could see again, the lion had gone. In his place was a cute cream and brown kitten.

  ‘What just happened?’ Jemma gasped, feeling some of the fear drain away. But she still felt really weird about talking to a cat. ‘Where’s … Flame?’

  ‘I am Flame,’ the kitten mewed. He had a pink nose, tiny paws and fuzzy fur with spotted brown markings.

  ‘But how? Where’s …? What?’ Jemma shook her head in confusion.

  She must be dreaming. This was the Kingsley Estate, where she had lived all her life. Where the most exciting thing that happened was the annual car boot sale behind the church rooms. Glowing white lions just did not appear in alleys and then magically turn into cute kittens.

  Flame took a wobbly step forward, and stood right in front of Jemma. He blinked up at her with scared, emerald-green eyes. ‘I need to hide. Jemma, can you help me?’ he mewed urgently.

  He looked so sweet and helpless. Leaning down, Jemma gently picked Flame up and cuddled him. The kitten purred softly and his fur sparkled with hundreds of tiny silver lights.

  Jemma felt a strange prickly warmth against her palms. She wondered if Flame was going to turn into something else, but nothing more happened. All at once the sparks disappeared and Jemma’s hands stopped tingling.

  Flame reached up and touched Jemma’s face with one tiny paw. ‘My enemies are searching for me. If they find me, they will kill me.’

  ‘What enemies? Who’s after you?’ Jemma asked.

  ‘Uncle Ebony. He rules my kingdom. He has sent spies to take me back,’ replied Flame.

  Jemma wanted to ask lots more about Flame’s world, but someone might come past at any minute and see them.

  She made up her mind. ‘I’m taking care of you from now on. You’re coming home with me.’ She zipped her jacket up around Flame. ‘Just wait until Georgie sees you!’

  Flame stiffened. ‘You can tell no one that I am a prince!’

  Jemma felt disappointed. Georgie would have loved to know about Flame, but she wasn’t going to do anything that put him in danger.

  ‘OK. Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe,’ she said. With the milk and cake in one hand and Flame tucked under her arm, she set off for home.

  ‘I’m sorry, but you know we can’t afford pets, Jemma,’ Mrs Watson said firmly, ten minutes later. ‘We’ll phone the RSPCA. They’ll find the kitten a good home.’

  ‘But Flame’s special, Mum! He chose me to be his owner,’ Jemma said. Oh, no, she hadn’t meant to say that! She must be more careful.

  Luckily her mum just laughed. ‘You and your imagination, Jemma Watson!’

  Jemma bit her lip. How could she change her mum’s mind? She just had to let Flame live with them. He was in danger and only she could keep him safe. ‘Please, Mum. I’ll look after him. He can sleep in my room. And I’ll buy his food from my pocket money and everything.’

  ‘Slow down, love. You know how you always rush into things,’ her mum said calmly.

  ‘I know. But this is different,’ Jemma insisted. ‘Please, Mum.’

  ‘Oh, go on, Mum,’ urged Georgie, who was rolling a soft ball across the rug for Poppy to play with. ‘I’ve thought of an ace name for him … Fang.’

  ‘I don’t think so!’ Jemma scoffed. She put on her best pleading voice. ‘Can Flame at least stay for tonight? Please?’

  Her mum sighed and gave in. ‘I suppose he may as well. But you must put a card in the shop window tomorrow. If an owner comes calling, there’ll be no arguments.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum!’ Jemma almost leapt out of the chair and gave her mum a hug.

  ‘Can I feed Fang?’ Georgie asked.

  ‘Flame!’ Jemma corrected her little brother again. Then her face fell. ‘We haven’t got any cat food. What’s Flame going to eat?’

  ‘Give him some milk for now, but too much isn’t good for cats,’ Mrs Watson said. ‘You’d better get some cat food tomorrow, Jemma.’

  Jemma bit her lip. She had just remembered spending the last of her pocket money on the cherry cake. How was she going to afford cat food?

  Her mum seemed to know what she was thinking. She came over and pressed a couple of coins into Jemma’s hand. ‘That should tide you over until your next pocket money.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum. You’re the best!’ Jemma said, beaming.

  ‘Can I have some money too?’ Georgie piped up hopefully.

  ‘You wish!’ Jemma chuckled and ruffled her brother’s sandy hair.

  Once Flame had finished his milk, she took him upstairs. It was cosy in her bedroom with the evening sun pouring through the pink curtains. She scooped the duvet into a nest around the kitten. ‘There, how’s that?’

  Flame yawned, showing a tiny pink tongue and sharp white teeth. ‘Good. I am warm now,’ he mewed sleepily. ‘Jemma, will you keep my secret?’

  ‘Cross my heart and hope to die,’ Jemma said. When Flame looked alarmed, she giggled. ‘It means I promise not to tell anyone,’ she said, stroking his soft ears.

  Flame gave her a whiskery grin and tucked his nose into his paws before settling down to sleep.

  Jemma sat on her bed besi
de him. A bubble of happiness rose up from inside her. ‘I can’t believe this is happening!’ she breathed. ‘This is so cool!’

  The following morning, Jemma woke to the sound of loud purring close to her ear.

  Rubbing her eyes, she sat up. It had been late when she went to bed. She’d had to scribble a note about Flame for Mr Shah’s shop window and finish her homework. After that, she’d spent ages trying to decide on a song for the audition.

  Flame uncurled himself. He stuck all four paws out and stretched his legs. ‘I slept well. I feel safe here,’ he mewed.

  ‘You are safe, with me!’ Jemma said with a broad smile. She kissed the top of his soft little head.

  Just then, the bedroom door flew open and Georgie exploded into the room. He leapt on the bed and began making a fuss of Flame.

  ‘How are you then, Fang?’ he asked.

  Jemma gave her brother a shove. ‘Ow! Get off, you big lump, you’re squashing me! And his name’s not Fang!’

  ‘Sausage!’ Georgie said, using his word for ‘sorry’. ‘Flame’s a rubbish name for a cat.’

  ‘No, it’s not …’ Jemma began. Suddenly she caught sight of her bedside clock. ‘Oh, no! We’ve all overslept!’ she groaned, throwing back the duvet. ‘Quick, Georgie. Get yourself washed and dressed.’

  When Georgie had gone out, Flame jumped off the bed and padded after Jemma. ‘May I help?’ he mewed.

  ‘Thanks, Flame, but I’m fine.’ Jemma’s head was full of all the things she had to do before school. She quickly pulled on her uniform, and then dragged a brush through her hair. Out on the landing she bumped into her mum.

  Mrs Watson was still in her dressing gown. Her hair was all on end and she looked worried. ‘Oh, dear. I’ve still got to iron my uniform. I can’t be late for work today. We’ve got staff training.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Mum. I’ll see to Poppy,’ Jemma offered.

  ‘Thanks love,’ her mum said with a relieved smile.

  As Jemma went to the cot and picked up her baby sister, Flame padded into the room after her. He wrinkled his nose and screwed up his face. ‘What is that bad smell?’