Exhausted from worrying, I quietened down and tried to go to sleep. When I closed my eyes, the voice of the Spirit Lion shook me.‘Stay awake, Timba,’ he boomed. ‘Pay attention to this journey, for one day you will need to find your way back. Watch the hilltops for stone towers and lone pine trees. Remember the shape of the hills.’
Even as he spoke, I remembered the hill with a stone tower that was visible from the top of the apple tree. We were driving close to it now.‘Glastonbury Tor,’ said Angie.
‘Who lives in that tower?’ Leroy asked in a whisper. ‘Does a giant live there?’
‘No. No one lives there. It’s an old church tower.’
‘Does God live there?’
‘Nobody knows,’ said Angie.
‘Remember the shape of the hills,’ the Spirit Lion had said, so I stared, trying to imprint the hill with the stone tower on my memory. We drove on through the morning and the hills turned from blue to green as they loomed closer, and on top was a tall metal tower going up to the sky. I felt the earth energy changing. The air was colder, the land covered in scrubby brown heather, and sheep were grazing in bright green patches of grass. At the crest of the hill, I felt we had reached a point of no return, and I began to grieve for the home I had loved. For Vati. For Graham, and Poppy, and the warm rug by the wood burner.
It wasn’t fair.
I wished I was brave like Angie. She drove on, bushy and alert like a squirrel, ready to change, take risks and leap into a new space.‘Home doesn’t have to be a place,’ she’d said. ‘Home can be who you’re with.’ And she’d shared her courage with Leroy. For him it was an adventure.
‘I’d climb up there. Right to the top,’ said Leroy as we drove past the metal tower, ‘and I wouldn’t be scared. Then I could see all the way to Africa and see the White Lions!’
Angie smiled.‘Maybe you could.’
The precious poster of the White Lions of Timbavati was rolled up in the back of the car, on top of the bags and boxes of books, and Leroy’s toys.
The Spirit Lion kept me busy noticing landmarks, but, tired from the stress, I did eventually nod off to sleep. The car droned on, and when I awoke the sun was higher in the sky, and the hills were a distant smudge of blue, behind us now. Leroy’s cry of excitement woke me.
‘Cor, that’s MASSIVE!’ he shouted. ‘Look at that bridge. Is that a suspension bridge, is it? Is it, Angie?’
I sat up to see.
‘Look, Timba! That’s the shining river,’ Leroy said. ‘You could go fishing in there. Has it got tuna in there, Angie?’
I saw the shining river, awesome, like a heavy snake of water, and the long, long bridge stretching over it. Beyond were more hills, dark with trees.
‘Don’t talk to me for a minute … I need to get this right,’ said Angie, and her face looked stressed as we joined a noisy stream of traffic.
I braced myself, feeling the thunder of the lorries hemming us in as we hurtled towards the river. In the cold air the exhaust fumes were hot and poisonous. The howl of engines rang in my ears and my throat burned from meowing. Leroy turned his big eyes to look at me.‘It’s OK, Timba.’ But I was crazed with fear. He touched me. ‘Timba’s fur is coming out!’ he said, but Angie clutched the steering wheel and drove on looking even more like a hyped-up squirrel.
I meowed again; this time it was a loud wail of distress. My life was out of control. I was trapped. I was being taken into the blue beyond, without my permission.
Leroy was squealing with excitement and bouncing around in his seat.‘Can we stop … please, Angie? I want to look at the river. I want to climb up the bridge … I could go high up … oh please stop.’
‘I can’t stop. It’s the motorway.’
‘Please, Angie. You never do anything I want. It’s not fair.’ Leroy kicked his feet on the floor of the car.
Angie spoke to him sharply.‘Sit still, or you’ll make me lose control of the car. Just, for God’s sake, don’t have a tantrum right now, Leroy. Save it for later!’
I saw the gleam of a tear on Leroy’s cheek, but he managed to keep quiet. Angie hardly ever shouted at him, and when she did he took notice.
We sped on across the bridge. It was like a highway in the sky with the energy and power of the river surging far below.‘Remember the bridge,’ the Spirit Lion said. How could I forget!
Where was Vati now? How far away? If only Angie would stop and open the travelling basket. I’d jump out and head back home on burning paws, my tail kinked over my back. But what chance would a little cat have on that hectic road?
My meows grew ever louder and more echoing. I was haunted by the thought that Vati, the wise one, had made the right decision … to stay at home … while I had made the wrong one.
‘You must learn to trust,’ said the Spirit Lion. ‘Trust Angie. She’s your earth-angel.’
By now we were driving on calmer roads through a dark forest. I paid attention to that. Even from the car, I could smell the trees and the creatures who lived there.