Marshmallow Pie the Cat Superstar and Marshmallow Pie the Cat Superstar on TV first published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2020

Published in this ebook pack edition in 2020

HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,

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Text and illustrations copyright © Clara Vulliamy 2020

Cover design copyright © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2020

Clara Vulliamy asserts the moral right to be identified as the author and illustrator of the work respectively.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBNs: 9780008355852 (Marshmallow Pie the Cat Superstar), and 9780008355890 (Marshmallow Pie the Cat Superstar on TV)

Ebook Edition © October 2020 ISBN: 9780008453190

Version: 2020-10-14

For Win, with much love

Map of my flat

Chapter One
Marvellous Me

Oh, hello. Yes, you can come in, but you can’t sit down because there’s only room for me on this sofa.

I am a fancy cat. I prefer to be addressed by my FULL name, which is Marshmallow Marmaduke Vanilla-Bean Sugar-Pie Fluffington-Fitz-Noodle.

I’m not happy when people shorten it.

I pretend I haven’t heard them, at first.

Here comes my human, Amelia Lime.

‘Hello, Pie!’ she says. See what I have to put up with?

I live here with Amelia and her dad in a tiny top-floor flat in the middle of the busy city. I didn’t always, though.

Until not long ago I lived in a huge house in the country with Amelia’s rich Aunt Julia, until she jumped into her private plane to fly around the world and couldn’t take me with her. So I was popped into the back of a taxi and sent over to Amelia. I would be company for her, everyone said.

The Early Years

I like the easy life.

I spend a lot of time sitting in the sunshine on our little balcony.

There’s a dog called Buster in the flat below. When he is out on his balcony I look down on him, in every way, which drives him CRAZY and keeps me entertained for hours.

This afternoon Amelia throws down her school bag and excitedly rummages in her coat pocket. ‘Look – just look at this!’ she says, pulling out a conker, a broken pencil, a hair clip shaped like a space rocket and, finally, a crumpled piece of paper. I yawn, waiting for her to get to the point. ‘They were giving out these leaflets in Pawsitively Purrfect when I went in to buy your Shrimp Crunchies . . .’

I can’t help doing a little dribble. Pawsitively Purrfect is a very good pet shop, and Shrimp Crunchies are my favourite.

Amelia reads the leaflet aloud . . .

‘It’s REALLY SOON, Pie – only one week’s time! Pie?’

But I’ve stopped listening. I’m too busy thinking about my tea. I pick up my toy mouse, Squeaker, and I go into the kitchen where Amelia’s dad is working at the table.

‘Hey, kiddo,’ he says to Amelia, looking up from his laptop. ‘How was school?’

‘Hey, Dad,’ says Amelia. ‘Usual stuff.’

I pace up and down impatiently while Amelia sorts the Shrimp Crunchies into my bowl. They come in yellow, pink and white, but I will only eat the yellow ones.

Amelia’s dad is reading her school newsletter while they eat their tea together.

‘Let’s see if there’s anything here you might like to do,’ he says. ‘Netball team try-outs?’

‘I don’t think so,’ says Amelia.

‘Twinkle Toes Dance Club?’

‘No way!’

‘Well, how about this – why don’t you enter the public-speaking competition? You can do it in pairs, it says here.’

Amelia’s cheeks go pink. ‘Oh no, that would be the WORST,’ she says.

‘Everyone would be looking at me, and I wouldn’t be able to find a partner to do it with anyway.’

She shows her dad the acting-agency leaflet. ‘This is loads better. I’d still get to do exciting things, but it would be PIE in the spotlight, not me. Pie deserves to be a HUGE star and I’m going to help him!’

I only really hear the last bit, as I tend to zone out if the conversation isn’t about me. A star? I feel like a star already, to be quite honest.

‘We MUST give the acting audition a go,’ Amelia carries on when I’ve finished my tea and I’m just giving my whiskers a quick clean. ‘They’re sure to give you a place in their agency – they will love you!’

Of course they will. I lick a stray crumb that has got stuck up my nose. A class act, that’s me.

While Amelia is brushing her teeth at bedtime, I jump up on to the edge of the bath and investigate an open bottle of shampoo.

‘We need to make sure you’re looking absolutely fantastic,’ she says, ‘and take photos, make a business card and begin your TRAINING! Lucky it’s the weekend tomorrow, no school . . . We’ll start first thing in the morning.’

I give the bottle a little tap with my paw.

‘You will try your very best, won’t you? Pie?’

I don’t answer. I keep tapping the shampoo until it falls on to the floor.

Splat.

NICE.

Chapter Two
No Such Thing as Too Many Sombreros

I’m just having a wonderful dream about finding a roast chicken twice as big as me, when Amelia wakes me up. So much for my usual Saturday-morning lie-in.

‘I’m going to teach you some TRICKS for the audition!’ she announces cheerfully, still in her pyjamas and waving a hoop in the air.

‘First we will practise jumping,’ she says.

Amelia ties a piece of string round Squeaker. Holding the hoop a little above the floor she slowly pulls

Squeaker through it. I’m meant to follow? Why on earth would I bother doing that? I stretch luxuriously and slump further into my cushion.

‘Okay, let’s try something easier,’ she says happily. ‘The high five!’

She has a ridiculously tiny piece of ham inside her closed hand and holds it up to me. As if I would raise a paw for that. HONESTLY.

‘All right, we will do the simplest of all – polite sitting. It’s very important to make a good first impression.’

She holds the tiny piece of ham above my head. ‘Come on, Pie,’ she says. ‘Sit up straight for a tasty snack!’

I look at the ham and I look at her. I close my eyes.

‘Never mind! Let’s leave all that for now.’ She smiles and gives me the ham anyway. I knew she would.

I go back to sleep. Hope I can find that roast chicken again.

When I wake up I see Amelia looking through my box of outfits. That’s more like it – I always enjoy the chance to look even more FABULOUS.

‘What would be best for your photo?’ she asks. ‘One of these bandanas I made for you?’

‘Sunglasses?’

‘You have loads of different hats – so many sombreros!’

My Five Most Fabulous Hats

I was born with amazing fashion sense. You either have it or you don’t.

I try on lots of alternatives, but nothing is quite good enough.

‘This needs to be EXTRA special,’ Amelia says. She fetches her sewing box and makes me a new sparkly green bow tie.

‘It brings out the colour of your eyes,’ she says, holding me up to the mirror.

I agree. I look spellbindingly handsome.

Before bedtime I go out on to the balcony, hoping that Buster is out too. He IS.

I’ve invented a hilarious new game to annoy him. I sit in a position so that I can hang my tail down through the railings and give it a little twitch to attract his attention. He can see but cannot reach. He barks loudly. I give my tail another wiggle. Buster jumps up, his barking building to an absolute frenzy, but still I am out of reach.

From somewhere a voice calls out ‘What is all that racket?’

‘Keep the noise down!’ calls another.

I hear Buster’s human hurriedly taking him inside.

HA.

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