Jessica was really enjoying this. Her eyes were glitzy and she was washing her pink paws flamboyantly. She was taunting Joe.
He hung his head and stared at the floor, and in the end I felt sorry for him. Very carefully, I crept onto his lap.
‘No purring,’ said my angel.
Joe gave a huge sigh as if he was a balloon. He began to stroke me with his rough hand and I knew my friendliness was helping him.
‘The truth is, Pam–’ he said at last. ‘I know, I do drink too much. I feel so useless. I’m unemployed, and yeah I do lose my temper sometimes.’
‘Now you’re talking.’ Pam sat back, looking satisfied. The sparks in her aura subsided and Jessica did something I’d never seen her do before. She climbed up and wrapped herself around Pam’s neck like a scarf, peeping round at her cheekily.
‘You daft cat.’
Joe went on telling his hard luck story to Pam, and my angel said,‘Everyone’s getting too serious.’ It was time to play.
On the floor was an empty plastic carrier bag. I crouched and dived inside it head first, making it skid across the floor. I must have looked ridiculous with my tail and back legs sticking out. Then I rolled over and over inside the bag making it rustle. I sat in there like a flat cat and stared out, planning the next pounce. I made myself look wild, with goggling eyes and a loopy loopy tail. I charged out of the bag, skidded down to the bedroom, bounced off the door and dived back into the plastic bag. Joe and Pam were laughing louder and louder as I thought of more tricks to perform.
‘Eee,’ said Pam, rubbing her eyes. ‘That’s what we need, a good laugh. That cat knows exactly what he’s doing, don’t you Solomon?’
By the time Ellen came back we were happy, and Joe had picked up his beer cans and started making tea.
John burst into the caravan, his face bright and alive.
‘Look at my book. I got a gold star.’
‘A gold star! Eee,’ said Pam. ‘Good boy.’
‘Look Solomon,’ John thrust his school book in front of my face, ‘that’s you.’
I stared in surprise. John had done a picture of me with my tail up and a big smile on my face. He’d coloured me black with yellow paws and a yellow nose, and he’d done my whiskers in rainbow colours. He’d drawn a big heart next to me, coloured it red, and written, ‘I love Solomon. He’s the best cat.’
I touched noses with the picture of me, and everyone laughed. Pam pointed at a splodge John had drawn in the air above my head. He’d coloured it pink and gold with tiny stars and a smiley face.
‘Who’s that?’ Pam asked.
‘That’s Solomon’s angel,’ John said, and everyone looked at each other as if John had said something amazing.
Joe did try to be good after the telling off he’d had from Pam. All of us tried, even Jessica, but I guess we knew it couldn’t last, and it didn’t. The last truly happy day was the day it snowed.
Jessica and I went out and played penguins. It was our favourite game now. We’d seen penguins on television, and sat mesmerised, watching them sliding over the ice. Jessica had gone up to the screen and patted one with her paws and tried to catch it, growling with annoyance when she found it wasn’t possible. We’d had a go at playing penguins in our old home, skidding across the kitchen floor on our tummies. Jessica would lie on her side and slide round the edge of the rug kicking it with her back feet as if she was riding a bike.
So when we saw the sheen of new snow in the morning sun, we looked at each other. Penguins! Out in the snow we went mad, racing and sliding down the slippery path until our paws burned with the cold, and everyone was laughing at us. Later we sat in the caravan window and watched John, Ellen and Joe building an enormous snowman.
I was OK with it, but the snowman really spooked Jessica. Joe put a baseball cap on its head and lifted John up to put in two black eyes and a carrot nose. The snowman looked alive. Jessica’s neck got longer and longer. She vanished into her cupboard and stayed there.
The snow melted quickly, but the snowman’s head hung around for days looking at everyone who passed, especially Jessica.
We were glad when spring came and the sun warmed everything. Jessica and I played outside in the spring evenings, and in the twilight we hid in the copse and watched the baby badgers squealing and playing.
‘They remind me of our kittens,’ Jessica said sadly. ‘I wish we could have some more.’
‘We can’t,’ I said. ‘Ellen explained all that to us after we’d been to the vet. She said there were already too many unwanted kittens in the world, and feral cats that don’t have homes.’
Spring turned to summer, and we might have all been happy if it hadn’t been for Joe’s behaviour. It came to a head one terrible day that was to change our lives.
It was late summer and John had gone back to school after his long summer holiday.
I knew that something was going to happen when Joe got up early, shaved his face and put on his black leather jacket. Ellen tipped the money out of her purse and sat at the table counting it. She gave some to Joe.
‘That’s for petrol.’