Frightened now, I clung to the thin branch, thinking about the logistics of turning round on it. A bunch of sheep stood on the opposite bank, looking at me, as if waiting for me to fall in. I meowed at them and they bleated back, and more sheep came skittering across the field to stare at me, a cat in a tree. I tuned in to their communal mind-set and found they were expecting me to jump. I thought about it. If I crept a bit further along the branch, I might risk a flying leap onto a green tuft of the bank that stuck out into the river. In a way, the hundred eyes of the sheep were encouraging me.
‘Tallulah,’ said my angel. ‘Think about your name. Tallulah.’
From far away, Diana’s clear bell-like voice was calling me from the window. ‘Talloolah. Talloolah.’ My name seemed to be woven into the whisper and burble of the water. The river’s colours were the colours of my fur – silver and black with tinges of gold. Roxanne had given me my name, and it meant ‘Leaping water’.
As I hyped myself up for the jump, my name echoed up and down the river valley. Even a pigeon was cooing it from a tree, and a black bird, and angels from beyond the glistening edges of the world, all singing my name, inviting me to jump.
There was a moment of balance when I wobbled a little, and the branch dipped and creaked. A woman walking along the path gasped,‘Look at THAT CAT! It’s not going to …’
I was a cat on fire. I took off in a spectacular swoosh of oak leaves, my back arched, my paws akimbo, my tail snaking. I held my breath. I was in the air and, in that moment, the sheep wheeled around and fled with a rumble of feet, and the woman screamed,‘It’s going in the river!’ Back in the garden, Amber was barking, and her barks were giving me energy.
Phew! I landed precisely on that green tuft with my heart racing, and Amber’s barks changed to a howl as if she was saying goodbye. My angel turned up again, and she was laughing with joy, sending sparkles over the grass.
‘Fuzzball could never have done that!’ she said.
It was true. My name had power.
It seemed a good time to wash, so I started on my paws, which felt gritty. It’s a privilege to be a cat. We don’t gallop about, knocking things over like dogs. We stop to contemplate and take time to enjoy life.
While I was picking bits of moss from between my pads, I kept an eye on the sheep, who were now standing in a circle, looking at me with their hundred eyes. I wanted to touch noses with a sheep, so I pretended not to notice them as they tiptoed closer, blowing hot breath out of their nostrils. When they were right up close, I stretched elegantly, and walked towards them with my tail up. A shiver rippled through the flock. They hesitated while the ring-leader came forward and reached out to me with her velvety face. There was a glint in her yellowy eyes as we touched noses, and some of her steam got onto my whiskers. I sent her a quick message:‘If ever I’m lost, I might need you to keep me warm at night.’
She might have said,‘Yes,’ but the moment of contact was brief. Obviously, she was spooked by me, and her courage ran out. She sprang back, and that fired up the rest of the sheep. They took off again, some of them leaping in the air, and fled to the far corner of the field, where they turned and stared back at me with their hundred eyes.
Mildly annoyed, I finished washing my paws and set off along the springy turf of the riverbank, towards the town. Through the next field, and the next, through tall grasses and flowers so rich with pollen that it made me sneeze. It was hard for me to remember where I was going, and not get distracted by the new places I was discovering; places where tantalising butterflies flitted and bees hummed. There would be voles and mice hidden in that grass. I put it on my‘places to go’ list, for when I could slip away and do some private hunting.
My angel was ahead of me, glistening like a dragonfly, leading me on an ever more challenging path, through back gardens that sloped down to the river, over fences and compost heaps, through tangles of honeysuckle and briars. At last, I came to a road between the gardens and the river. There were wheelie bins, boxes of cardboard and empty tins that smelled of cat food. More temptation.
A perfectly good piece of cheese was lying on the gravel next to one bin. I picked it up gingerly and dived under some bushes to enjoy it in private. The cheese was chewy but deliciously salty and it took me a while to eat it. My mind was on TammyLee, imagining her sitting under that elder tree by herself, remembering Rocky and breaking her heart. I should be there.
Even as I had that thought, I heard the clonk of shoes on the other side of the river and there was TammyLee, trudging towards home, her school bag slung over one shoulder, her head down, her cheeks red from crying. I was too late. Gretel’s words rang in my mind: ‘You BAD CAT.’ I’d got distracted by the sheep and the piece of cheese. What a disgrace after doing that magnificent jump.