‘She’s a real angel,’ Diana said as I dozed on her lap. ‘I’m so lucky to have such a kind daughter. I wish Max wasn’t so hard on her. But we love her, don’t we, Tallulah?’
I looked at Diana’s expectant eyes and wondered if she knew about Rocky. No, my angel said. But I wished TammyLee would tell her. Diana was her mum. She should know her daughter cried every single night before she went to sleep, and the tears were tears of regret and longing for her lost child.
‘I would have loved him, Tallulah,’ she wept to me. ‘I do love him, but I’ll never see him again, and when he grows up, he’ll never forgive me. How would you feel if your mum dumped you?’
I knew the pain of abandonment, but I couldn’t tell her how bad I’d felt when Joe dumped us in the hedge, and again when Gretel threw me out for wrecking the Christmas tree.
I worried about Christmas. When was it? Would there be a tree that I mustn’t play with? I asked Amber.
‘It’s soon,’ she said. ‘I know it’s in the winter when the nights are dark. Max takes me out in the night and the frost burns my paws. He leans on the railings and looks at the stars, and I’m not allowed in the water. And sometimes he walks me into the town and we admire the coloured lights on people’s homes.’
That gave me a clue. As the nights got longer, the afternoons gloomier, I noticed coloured lights appearing on the houses and in the trees. I worried and worried, and when I heard a rustling noise and saw Max dragging a Christmas tree through the door, I panicked.
I was on the hearth rug with Amber, nice and warm in front of a blazing fire, and I was in the middle of washing. When I saw the Christmas tree, my eyes must have turned huge and black, for TammyLee said,‘What’s the matter, Tallulah? Tallulah! Don’t run away!’
I didn’t wait for her to catch me. I bolted, like a squirrel crossing the road, into the kitchen, past my supper, which I hadn’t yet eaten, and charged through the cat flap, up the frosty garden and into the road. Without stopping to think, I sped down the footpath towards the river.
When my paws started to burn from the frost, I thought about Amber. I had to find a hiding place where she wouldn’t find me, because I wasn’t going back. No, I’d hide out there for the winter, until that Christmas tree had gone, and then I’d creep back. It wasn’t going to be easy, but I had a thick luxurious coat to keep me warm.
My angel’s voice whispered in my mind: ‘Don’t do this, Tallulah.’ But I ignored her, and ran on, following the river upstream, until I reached the stone bridge where TammyLee had often taken me. I hoped the stones would be warm from the sun, but they were colder than ice. The whole earth ached with the chill of winter; down in the roots of grasses, the frost crackled and puddles creaked with ice.
Nearby was a good place to catch mice, a bank of mossy tree roots with numerous holes. Usually, it was easy. I only had to wait, watch and pounce. On this bitter night, not a single mouse appeared. The birds were silent. The air was still, and my breath was making tiny puffs of steam in the moonlight. I sat down to watch for mice, but found myself hypnotised by the enormous silver-gold moon, which was rising over the mountains, its light glinting on the flowing river and glazing the frosted stones of the old bridge. The moss and the bare twigs were coated with ice, and nothing moved. I felt like the only living creature out there, and yet … something was watching me, making my fur stiff with fright. A fox? A prowling dog? Or some other strange creature of the night?
I listened for its footsteps.
The murmur of the water, the metallic tinkling of frosted reeds and the cracking of ice along the riverbank. My whiskers glistened, my fur puffed out like a halo, and the tips of it had a haze of hoar frost. I seemed like a cat frozen in time, locked in a cocoon of magic moonlight, where something, some presence, was waiting for me.
I looked up at the bridge, and there he was, high on the top. A cat! My whiskers stiffened, my tail twitched in alarm. Was he real? He didn’t look real. Even though his eyes shone green in the moonlight, he looked transparent, like a ghost cat. His presence was magnetic. I found myself creeping towards him, wanting his warmth and his company, yet knowing that wasn’t what he could give me. He was a phantom, unmoving, but staring at me with calm intelligence.
I padded closer, my heart racing, and sat down at a respectful distance. Still the cat didn’t move. I observed the curve of his whiskers, and the faint iridescence that came from his fur. It was blacker than the night, but he had a white chest and paws.
Something shifted in my memory. A time of being a baby kitten, under a bed, and this same cat had been there, watching me proudly, protectively.
My dad. Solomon!
Overwhelmed, I kept still and waited for him to speak. I wanted to run to him and touch noses, but something held me back, some invisible force between me and him.