There was a brief silence, and then Angie really let go of her feelings, almost shaking me off her lap. I pretended not to notice and went on purring.
‘Graham … the love of my life … is chucking me out.’
‘WHAT? He can’t do that, Angie!’
‘He’s got some other PIG of a woman.’ Angie wept bitterly. ‘How I hate her. Lisa, she’s called … and she’s everything I’m not. A singer, with a face like a Barbie doll … oh he had the cheek to show me a photo of her, would you believe?’
‘How insensitive. That’s so cruel.’ Laura sat with her arms around Angie, her eyes full of caring love.
‘And she’s such a good little home-maker … cup cakes and shiny gadgets,’ stormed Angie, ‘and, wouldn’t you know it … she’s pregnant as well … oh God, that’s hurt me more than anything, Laura. I SO wanted a baby, and I kept miscarrying, and … it broke my heart. Three times. It’s so unfair. What have I done to deserve this? Tell me that, Laura.’
‘Nothing,’ Laura said fiercely. ‘You’ve been brilliant, Angie. You’re a fantastic friend … and look what you’ve done here. This place was a tip.’
‘I’ve worked so hard. I put everything into the relationship. Graham never notices … and when I lost those darling babies, he … he just expected me to go on as if nothing had happened … and I tried … oh God how I tried. No one knows. Maybe I should have been miserable … but that’s not me. I’m a positive person. Why has this happened to me? WHY?’ Angie was now so distressed that her voice was high-pitched and croaky.
‘Don’t torment yourself with the WHY stuff, Angie. Life is just so cruel sometimes.’
‘It’s not life. It’s HIM.’
‘Is that his letter on the floor in bits?’ asked Laura.
Angie stood up.‘Can you hold Timba?’ she asked and I was put on Laura’s lap which smelled of horses. ‘He’s sent it by email too.’ She opened her laptop and the screen flickered into life. ‘I mean … read it, Laura.’
‘Haven’t got my glasses,’ Laura said.
‘I’ll read it to you then.’ Angie took a deep breath and began.
‘“Dear Angie” – don’t know why he bothered putting “Dear” – “I know you will be upset, but I feel the time has come for us to part. It’s not working for me any more, and I have been very lucky to find Lisa, a sweet girl, an opera singer like me. We’ve known each other for two years” – TWO YEARS the bastard’s been seeing her – “and she is expecting my child. It’s right for her to live with me here. Therefore” – “THEREFORE”! How pedantic is that? – “I must ask you to find somewhere else to live, Angie, and move out as soon as you reasonably can. I thank you for the happy years we’ve had. Yours, Graham.”’
‘Hang on, Angie … no … don’t trash your laptop.’ Laura put a restraining hand on Angie.
‘I’d like to smash it over his head,’ Angie growled.
Vati was looking down at me from the top of the bookshelf. He was sending me a telepathic thought.‘Why are you rolling around purring in the middle of all that human rage?’
I sent a thought right back at him.‘Because I’m a support cat. It’s my job.’
‘Don’t trash your stuff!’ Laura said.
Angie’s wild eyes alighted on one of Graham’s shirts she had been ironing earlier. She got up and ripped it from the hanger. She tore into it like a cat tearing at a piece of meat, chucking the strips of it high into the air. I glanced at Vati. Should we play with those tantalising ribbons of frayed shirt? Vati didn’t think so. But I was feeling rebellious. I got down, aware that my eyes had gone black with excitement. I picked up a long strip of shirt in my teeth and went into the kitchen. I wanted it on a slippery floor where I could twirl with it.
‘He’s taking it out in the snow!’ said Laura, and suddenly the two women were laughing hysterically.
I mean … I was only doing my job as a support cat … and today it was turning tears into laughter.
When Laura had gone, I crept back onto Angie’s lap, and the crying started again, quietly this time.
‘Thank you, Timba,’ she sobbed. ‘Why is the Universe doing this to us?’
I looked up at Vati who was still on the bookshelf and suggested he came down to help me console Angie. He did come down, still with that strange, lemon-bright look in his eyes, but he didn’t come to Angie. He sat with his back to us in the window, fascinated by the snow now magically falling in large flakes.
Angie stopped ranting and was ominously quiet. She stared at the floor and didn’t look once at the snow. I trusted Angie. I was sure she would take me with her, wherever she went, and Vati too.
But Vati made his feelings perfectly clear. He came down from the windowsill, avoided Angie, and jumped into Graham’s favourite chair. Deliberately he curled up on a blue sweater Graham had left there, and went to sleep.
I was shocked. Vati was making a statement. He was going to stay with Graham.
I loved my brother. I needed him.
Now it was my turn to feel betrayed.