‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to put him through all that now he’s old. I’d rather just keep him here and love him and let him go.’
I looked at Ellen with gratitude. She loved me, but she was going to let me go. I was ready now. Ready to go home.
‘A wise lady,’ said Abby. ‘But call me, Ellen, if you want me to help him. You know what I mean.’
THE DIARY OF A STAR CAT
I am writing this diary again as a gift to Ellen. I want her to know where I am going.
Because today I begin my journey to the stars.
Ellen has done the right thing. She doesn’t want me to go to the vet and have surgery. She is going to love me, and let me go. Today she has put me on the amber velvet cushion in my favourite chair. She knows I can’t walk any more. My back legs are weak. She is feeding me little spoonfuls of tasty food, but I don’t really want it. Idon’t want to be in this old body any longer.
Thank goodness I can still purr. I can still open my eyes and see Ellen’s lovely face. I can hear her voice talking to me and she is saying ‘Thank you, Solomon. Thank you for being my cat. I’ll always love you.’ Some of the time Isaac is there too, and his touch on my fur is soothing and blissful. And John is there with me. He’s nearly a man now. He wants tocry over me but he won’t, so he sits beside me playing heavenly music on his guitar. He goes on playing into the night.
It is morning and Pam comes to see me, and she cries and cries. Then she tells me stories about Jessica, and the Christmas concert, and the time I visited Ellen in hospital. When she is gone Ellen tells me I am a star. A star cat. It reminds me to think about stars. I imagine the blaze of sunlight on the sea that Jessica showed me. I go to sleep and dream of the dance of silver stars and how I believed that the shining sea was full of angels, if only I could see them.
Another day and I am still on the amber velvet cushion. I’m sleeping most of the time. Today I have a surprise visitor, and it is Joe. ‘Don’t worry, Solomon,’ Ellen whispers. ‘I’m not going back with Joe. He just wants to say goodbye.’ I open my eyes. Joe looks different. He smells nice and his eyes are calm. He tells me he is sorry for theway he treated us, and I purr and reach out my paw to him to show I have forgiven him. Then I sleep on a silver bed in the silver stars that are drifting all around me.
It is night time, and only Ellen is with me, stroking and talking, and Lulu is sitting on the arm of the chair, watching me. I am glad I found Ellen another cat. I can hardly see her now because the silver stars are clustered around me. They are lifting me, like a magic carpet, and carrying me away into the blaze of light. I am floating faster and faster, but I can hear Ellen’s beautiful voice, and I am still purring.
Ellen and Lulu are like faraway pictures now. I can see the amber velvet cushion with the body of a very old black cat lying on it. I hear Ellen saying,‘Goodbye Solomon. Darling cat.’ I am flying now, through the glittering stars, there are thousands of them whizzing past me, and they are turning from silver into gold. At last, I see the angels, and I burst through the golden web as if I am a firework.
I have come safely home to the spirit world, to my idyllic valley where the grass is full of stars, and the rocks are like warmest velvet. I am a shining cat now, made of pure light, and it feels amazing. I sit up and gaze into the distance, and something is moving. A cat. Another cat. Dashing towards me with its tail up. It is a shining cat.
And it is Jessica.
2. SOLOMON’S KITTEN
Chapter One
‘FOLLOW THAT GIRL’
‘Follow that girl,’ said my angel.
The girl was crying as she hurried past me. She was staring at the ground in front of her, and clutching a white plastic bag with something heavy inside. Whatever it was, I could smell it, and it was alive. Every time she met someone, she tightened her grip on the bag and twisted past them. She seemed afraid of being stopped.
I was sitting on the garden wall under an orange street light, a good place for a cat to watch the life of the street, and catch the moths that flitted around the honeysuckle. I was a young cat, a bit nervous as I’d had a bad start to my life, and I rarely ventured outside our square of garden.
My angel’s voice buzzed through my whiskers and made my silver and white fur bush out with courage. I jumped down from the wall and ran after the crying girl. Instinct told me to do it furtively, so I crept on quiet paws through front gardens, under gates and hedges, over fences and under parked cars. I stalked the girl by listening to the tip-tap of her shoes, the sniff-sniff of her crying, and the strange animal smell that came from the big bag. It was the subtle smell of fear that told me this was important.
My silver tabby fur made perfect camouflage in the summer twilight. Only my white bits and socks gave me away. The traffic frightened me, but I kept following the girl through a maze of streets. Would I ever find my way home?