‘I’m going to fetch John.’ Ellen took the keys and I followed her outside. She picked me up, and I could feel her heart beating very fast and she was trembling.
‘You go and hide, Solomon,’ she whispered to me. ‘Go and be with Jessica. And whatever happens, I promise I’ll come back for you. You must stay here, Solomon. Promise you will stay.’
I stared at her, and she started to cry and put me down on the grass. Moving furtively, she slid the two bags out and loaded them into the car.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Joe towered in the doorway.
Ellen stood very straight and looked back at him.
‘I’m leaving you, Joe,’ she said firmly. ‘And I’m taking John. And I’m NEVER coming back.’
She had the car engine running and she jumped in and drove away.
Joe roared and raged. He ran after the car, hurling beer cans at it. I escaped into the hedge and watched, terrified, as he stomped back into the caravan, swearing. There were bangs and crashes as he hurled things around, breaking china and kicking doors. The whole caravan was shuddering. I felt I could never go in there, ever again.
Ellen had gone. She had left me behind.
I was devastated.
But Jessica was still under the caravan unwrapping the Marmite sandwich.
[Êàðòèíêà: img_10]
ABANDONED
I felt betrayed. I’d done my best, my very best, and now I’d been abandoned. I’d been loyal, and kind, I’d set off alone as a tiny kitten to find Ellen, and then I’d been brave and visited her in hospital. And look what happened. She abandoned me.
I was deeply upset, but I couldn’t sit around crying like a human. It seemed easier to be angry.
My angel tried to intervene.
‘It will get worse,’ she said. ‘But you must try to survive and wait for Ellen.’
I didn’t want to listen. Flicking my tail in annoyance, I turned my back on the shining angel and went to find Jessica. She would teach me how to be angry, and how to survive in the wild.
We sat up for most of the night on the mossy branch watching the caravan. Joe ranted and thundered around for hours. He kept flinging the door open and chucking things out into the night. Between showers the moon was bright and we could see Ellen’s stuff lying in the wet grass: her clothes, her books, her pot plants, her CDs.
Nick came plodding down the path with Paisley on a lead. Paisley didn’t want to go near the caravan, and Nick had to drag him.
‘You useless great mutt. Daft as a brush you are.’ In the end Nick tied Paisley to a lamppost. ‘Stay there.’
He hammered on the door and Joe wrenched it open. In the lamplight his eyes were red, and he had a bottle in his hand.
‘What’s going on?’ Nick asked. ‘I’ve had complaints. And what’s all the stuff doing out here?’
‘She’s left me. That’s what’s wrong. And she’s taken MY son.’
‘Well I don’t blame her if you carry on like that,’ said Nick. Joe started ranting and swearing. He sat down on the caravan steps.
‘Now you quieten down,’ Nick said calmly. ‘It’s no good carrying on like this, Joe. I’m sorry for you, but this is my campsite and if you don’t calm down and pick up this mess, then we’ll be having a serious talk in the morning about whether I can let you stay here.’
Joe put his head in his hands and sobbed like a child, sobs that shook his big body. Normally I would have run to him and calmed him down with my powerful purr. But I was an angry cat now.
‘Come on, inside. You’ve had a skinful.’ Nick spoke kindly to Joe, steered him into the caravan and shut the door. Paisley was whining and winding his lead round and round the lamppost until he’d nearly strangled himself.
The door opened again and Nick came out.
‘You sleep it off, Joe. We’ll sort it out in the morning,’ he said, and turned off the caravan lights. He unwrapped Paisley from the lamppost and plodded off into the dark, tutting and grumbling.
Jessica was cold, so we headed for the badger hole and curled up together, trying to sleep. Our fur was wet, and we were hungry, but at least we had a safe place out of the rain. My angel tried to talk to me again, but I refused to listen. I blocked my mind and sank into a deep sleep.
In my sleep I dreamed a beautiful dream. I dreamed of the previous life I had had with Ellen, when she was a child, and I was her cat.
When Ellen was a child she wouldn’t speak. She knew how to talk but chose not to, and that got her into lots of trouble. People thought she was being sullen, or snobby, or even rude, and Ellen was none of those things. She was telepathic, and that’s why I was the perfect cat for her – we could read each other’s silent thoughts.