‘Is John asleep?’ Pam whispered, sitting herself down on the seat opposite.
‘Yes. He’s out for the count, Pam, you needn’t whisper,’ said Ellen. Her voice sounded wobbly.
‘I came to see if you were all right.’ Pam’s eyes were full of kindness. ‘I heard Joe go off like that in the car. I couldn’t help hearing the row.’
Ellen started to cry. She cried and cried, and Pam just sat there offering her tissues out of a box, and making motherly comments like,‘Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear. Oh you poor girl.’
‘I hate it here in this caravan. I can’t cope with being here, Pam. We lost our home you see – they repossessed it. It was my mum’s home and she left it to me, but Joe got into debt and mortgaged it. They took all our furniture, they even took my piano. If Nick hadn’t let us in here we’d be homeless. I thought we’d try and make the best of it but it’s getting worse and worse, Pam, especially with – now that Joe is …’ Her voice came to a halt. She couldn’t speak. I stretched out my paws and lay over her heart, my chin on her chest. She felt bony and thin and her inner light was very very dim as if it was about to go out.
‘Joe’s on benefits,’ said Ellen. ‘We both tried to get jobs, but there just aren’t any here in Cornwall. They keep telling us there will be jobs in the spring when the tourist season starts, but how can we survive until then?’
‘He’s drinking isn’t he?’ asked Pam, and a new wave of pain seemed to engulf Ellen and came pouring out in a deluge of words and tears, her whole body shaking and sobbing.
‘I know,’ Pam went on. ‘I don’t miss much. Anyway, you can smell it on him. How’s he going to get home?’
‘I don’t know, Pam.’ Ellen shook her head. ‘He’ll have to walk. Sometimes he stays out all night. Oh Pam, I’m so frightened. If he goes on like this, Nick will chuck us off the site. Then where will we go? We’ve got nowhere to go, Pam, nowhere.’
Pam leaned forward and made Ellen look at her courageous blue eyes.‘I won’t let him,’ she declared. ‘And you can come in with me any time. You remember that. I’ll be like a – a mum to you, and I’ll be a granny for John. I love him, and you, and this beautiful cat.’
‘We’ve got no money,’ Ellen wept. ‘It all goes on Joe’s booze and the rent.’
Pam shook her fist.‘He’s got to be stopped.’
‘No Pam, don’t you get involved,’ said Ellen, but I knew that Pam would. I could see that Pam was like Jessica – gutsy and brave, even if she was an old lady. She was going to have a go at Joe. I couldn’t wait.
‘He used to be a lovely man,’ said Ellen. ‘He was over the moon when John was born.’
Pam got up and made two mugs of steaming cocoa. Then she rummaged in the cupboard and found a tin of Whiskas rabbit, my favourite. I jumped down to eat it, and I got a compliment as well.
‘This cat, Solomon, he’s special,’ Pam said, stroking my back as I tucked in. ‘He’s the most beautiful, loving cat I’ve ever seen. He’s trying to look after you, Ellen. Don’t you ever let him go will you? He’s heaven sent, this cat.’
After that, I felt so much better that I settled down in the caravan with Ellen and John. Joe didn’t come back, and despite the wild storm outside, we had a night of peace. Jessica came slinking back through the hole in the door and we curled up together on the amber velvet cushion.
We survived the rest of the winter. Joe came and went, losing his temper and apologising, then he’d try to be nice for a few days. It never lasted.
As spring turned to summer, life seemed easier. John was growing fast and running around the campsite with other children. Ellen had the washing outside in the sun, and even a few pots of flowers. While Joe spent whole mornings lying in bed, Ellen was cleaning and polishing and keeping John happy. Jessica and I had a bit of fun, chasing each other up and down trees. She liked to go up to Nick’s house and tease Paisley by sitting on top of the gatepost. The poor dog would shiver and shake, and if Jessica jumped down into his garden, he would bolt indoors, yelping.
I showed Jessica all my refuges, including the badger hole, and we had a few experimental naps in it. She wouldn’t come down the road with me to visit Karenza’s cottage, so I went alone and socialised with her cats. I kept friends with the badgers too, it was part of my plan to build a support network to help me in times of trouble.
One hot summer day, after a wild chase through the copse with Jessica, I got a prickle stuck in my paw. I licked and fussed but it wouldn’t come out, and days later it turned into an abscess. My paw was swollen and throbbing painfully. It was full of poison. Miserably, I crouched in the shade underneath the caravan. I didn’t want to eat or move.
Ellen kept picking me up and holding my bad paw in a basin of hot salty water. It was comforting, but soon I felt so ill I just crawled deeper under the caravan and sat there, shivering.
‘I’ll have to take you to the vet, Solomon.’ Ellen wriggled under the caravan on her tummy to get me out. I lay in her arms, all floppy like a dead cat.