Solomon's Kitten (16 page)

‘Oh, come on, yes, you did.’

‘I DID NOT. You just got me drunk with that bottle of stuff you said was only cider. Then you took advantage of me because you knew I hadn’t got a life ’cause I look after my
mum. I could have reported you for rape, but I didn’t.’

‘No, you just dumped me, didn’t you?’ Dylan’s eyes darkened with pain. ‘One minute you were crazy about me, telling everyone I was hot, and the next minute you were
acting like I never existed. It hurt. I know I act the hard man and stuff, but I do have feelings, and I actually did love you.’

‘Is that why you dropped my cat in the river?’

‘No . . . I s’pose I just wanted to hurt you back somehow.’

There was another painful silence. I shuffled around and put my chin on TammyLee’s heart so that she could feel my loud purring. But I didn’t want to be there, in the middle of this
fierce argument. I wanted to be in the kitchen, eating my tea in peace. I wanted to curl up on Amber’s bed and wait for her to come back and lie with me, and tell me about her trip to the
beach.

‘I respected you, for the way you look after your mum,’ Dylan said, ‘but I don’t have a home life and stuff like you. I live in a no-hopers’ flat and I’ve
only got my mum and she’s pissed off with me most of the time. That day, when you told me you were pregnant, I was really immature. I got to thinking about it later, and actually dreaming
about being a dad.’

TammyLee was quieter now. She was listening to him, and stroking me along my back and rubbing behind my ears with her fingers.

‘I watched you,’ continued Dylan, ‘all those months, and you were getting a bump. You just wore loose clothes and told everyone you were bingeing on junk food.’

‘So?’

‘So what happened? What happened to OUR baby? TammyLee, I’m not leaving until you tell me.’

‘I miscarried.’ TammyLee spat the words out like a tablet she couldn’t swallow.

Dylan stood up, and so did she, still holding me.

‘I . . . don’t . . . believe you,’ he said, forcefully, and his eyes narrowed.

‘Suit yourself.’

He took a step forward and put his face close to us. I felt TammyLee begin to tremble.

‘Get this, you lying bitch,’ Dylan hissed. ‘I intend to find out what you really did. I know when our baby should have been born . . . round about the eighteenth of May, I
reckon. I read the papers, see? And I watch the news. I can find it all online . . . and if I find out you dumped him somewhere, I’ll take a DNA test, and YOU are going to take responsibility
for what you did to MY baby. No one messes with me, or my family.’

With a final glare of his blue eyes, he left the garden in three strides, vaulted the gate into the road, and we listened to the thud-thud of his footsteps going away.

TammyLee was cold and shaking all over. She cried into my fur.

‘Oh, God, Tallulah. What am I going to DO?’

I first encountered Dylan’s mum on a dark autumn afternoon. The leaves were falling in shoals, blowing along the road and piling into corners and gateways. I was sitting
in a nest I’d made in the hedge, a cosy hiding place near the gate. I’d come outside for some thinking time, leaving the family clustered round the television, watching weather
reports.

‘There’s now a red alert for prolonged, heavy rain,’ Max had said. ‘I’d better go and get some sandbags. We don’t want the river in the garden
again.’

I didn’t know what he meant. I asked Amber, and she didn’t know either. But I remembered what my angel had said about the river being like a lion in the winter, and it made me
uneasy. My instinctive attunement to the natural world gave me a sense of something ominous, a massive storm prowling out over the sea. I could feel its shadow, and taste its salt on the wind.

TammyLee had been full of anxiety since Dylan’s visit. Yet she continued to look after Diana and clean the house with breath-taking efficiency. She seemed able to flick a switch and
suddenly become calm and cheerful, and proud of her ability to be her mum’s carer. She told no one, except me, of her private torment over Rocky.

‘Every day of my life, I think about Rocky,’ she often said, ‘and every day I hate myself for what I did. I might never see him again in my whole life, and I want to, so much.
Supposing I couldn’t ever have another baby? And I’m so scared, Tallulah, you’re my only friend. I’m scared I’ll go to prison if Dylan finds out. Oh, what am I going
to DO?’

I could only be with her, and kiss her face, and purr, but the autumn days raced on and nothing happened.

Until today.

The heavy footsteps woke me up and I saw a pair of swollen, purple legs coming through the gate, and another set of legs in black boots and jeans. Dylan!

His mum was a mountain of a woman, her aura fizzling with indignation as she waddled down the path with Dylan slouching behind her, his eyes downcast. She didn’t use the doorbell, but
banged the door with her fist.

Amber barked and barked, but she knocked again. ‘I ain’t scared of your bloody dog. Come on, answer. I ain’t going nowhere ’til you’ve ’eard what I got to
say.’ She sniffed loudly.

Alarmed, I ran, low to the ground, round the side of the house to the kitchen door, through the cat flap and under the sofa where I felt safe.

Max was getting up out of his armchair.

‘Who on earth is that? Stop barking, Amber.’

Amber ran to his side, her hackles ridged along her back. Max took her by the collar, dragged her into the conservatory and shut the door. ‘QUIET. On your bed, now.’

He opened the front door, and Dylan’s mum came billowing into the hall.

‘Excuse me . . . I don’t recall inviting you in,’ protested Max, but his voice just blew away through the open door like a discarded leaf. Ignoring him, she barged into the
lounge, with Dylan following, looking lost and sullen in her intimidating presence.

There was no place to hide. Diana was lying on the sofa with a blue blanket over her, and TammyLee was sitting in the chair beside her, engrossed in playing with her mobile.

‘Is that ’er?’ Dylan’s mum asked him, jerking her thumb at TammyLee.

‘Yeah.’

‘Right, you . . . you got some explaining to do, my girl.’ Dylan’s mum folded her fat arms. ‘And I ain’t leaving ’til you come clean about what YOU did with
MY grandchild.’

TammyLee couldn’t seem to find words to reply.

In the shocked silence that followed, the house was filled with the roar of heavy rain. Max stood up and assembled the shreds of his authority.

‘And you are?’ he asked acidly.

‘’Is mum.’ She jerked a thumb at Dylan, who was shuffling from one foot to the other. ‘Iris Fredrickson.’

‘Well now, Iris Fredrickson . . . what gives you the right to barge into our home, uninvited? Especially with this . . . this boy in tow. He’s not welcome here, and neither are you.
So kindly leave.’

‘I don’t take no notice of the likes of you,’ Iris said, looking contemptuously at Max. ‘Think you’re so bloody good, don’t you? Well, your daughter is a
lying whore.’

TammyLee leaped to her feet.

‘I AM NOT,’ she hissed. ‘You don’t even know me.’

‘Don’t want to, either.’

‘You’ve no idea who I am or what kind of life I have,’ TammyLee said. ‘You only know what Dylan’s told you. He feels guilty about dropping my cat in the river . . .
animal cruelty that was . . . I could have reported him for it . . . so he’s just winding you up with stuff he’s fabricating to get attention. That’s what he is, an attention
seeker. Everyone knows that.’

‘Now you listen to me, my girl.’ Iris moved closer and jabbed a fat finger at TammyLee’s face.

‘No, you listen.’ TammyLee stamped her foot, and even from under the sofa, I could feel the heat of her anger. I wished I was a tiger that could leap out and defend her. ‘I
don’t have a life like most girls my age. I come home from college and care for my mum,’ she said, waving a hand at Diana, who was calmly watching.

‘That don’t make you a saint,’ said Iris.

‘WHAT is this about?’ demanded Max. ‘Will someone please tell me?’ He looked searchingly from one to the other, while torrents of rain lashed at the windows. It was
nearly dark outside, but inside the fire flickered orange, and there was light that only I could see. It was the shine of angels who were mostly around Diana.

I chose that moment to emerge from under the sofa. I had to help. With my tail up and eyes bright, I was aware of the empowering light as I stood there bravely, a very small cat in the midst of
angry, towering humans. Who should I go to? I wanted to be with Diana, or TammyLee – that would have been the obvious choice. But I looked at Iris, first. I’d seen her swollen legs
coming through the gate and her fist thumping the door. Now I looked for her eyes, which were embedded in the folds of an unhappy face. I examined her aura and it was in tatters. Her heart was
tightly wrapped in layers of misery.

She looked down at me looking up at her and melted. That’s when I knew exactly what to do. I targeted her, brushing my waving tail around those swollen legs as I glided to and fro. I stood
up on my back legs, purring, and dabbed at her skirt with paws of velvet.

Everyone was watching me.

Iris couldn’t resist me. She reached down and smoothed me, and it was obvious from her touch that she loved cats. Without asking permission, she picked me up and I let her. I made a fuss
of her, purring, and gazing into her eyes.

‘You don’t have to be angry,’ I was telling her, by telepathy. ‘You can talk quietly, like Diana, and then the angels will help you.’ I talked directly to her soul.
It shone like a lamp in the distance, and as she responded to my love – it came closer and she began to relax.

Diana decided to help me. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘Tallulah loves you, doesn’t she? Now, why don’t you sit down in that armchair, with Tallulah? And Dylan, you sit there,
on the stool by the fire . . . you look cold, poor lad. And let’s talk this over, quietly, and calmly, shall we?’

Diana would have made a good cat, I thought approvingly. She was so lovely, and quietly spoken, no one could get mad with her. I saw Dylan glance at her with disbelief and longing in his
eyes.

‘You sit here, love. I’ll move my feet,’ she said to TammyLee, who was staring at me with an incredulous expression.

Everyone sat down exactly where Diana had told them to, and I began work on Iris’s heart. Only Max was still standing, looking bewildered as he often did when faced with the radiance of
Diana’s love. She looked at him. ‘Now why don’t you go and get those sandbags, Max? Listen to that rain.’ She turned to Iris and spoke to her as if she was a long-lost
friend. ‘We have to be so careful living close to the river.’

‘Absolutely not,’ said Max. ‘I’m staying right here until this is sorted out.’

His voice sounded raucous in the quiet atmosphere Diana and I had created. Dylan sat mutinously on the stool, studying the flames leaping up the chimney. I noticed a handbag dangling from one of
Iris’s arms. ‘Just wait until you put that down,’ I thought. ‘I’ll have that open in seconds and see what’s inside.’

But Iris opened the handbag first, and took out a folded piece of newspaper. She hung the bag back on her arm.

‘THAT’s what this is about.’ She unfolded the paper and thrust it at Max. ‘And don’t even think about tearing it up. I got copies.’

Max frowned as he read what was on the paper, and handed it to Diana.

‘Oh, yes, I remember that poor little baby,’ Diana said. ‘I hope someone nice adopted him and I hope the mum is all right. She must have been desperate to abandon her
baby.’

‘I don’t call it desperate. EVIL, that’s what I call it,’ said Iris loudly. She pointed at TammyLee. ‘SHE’s the mother. Ask her, go on . . . ask
her.’

Her accusation rang around the room. Even Diana looked shocked. TammyLee put her head in her hands.

‘There you are. Look at ’er. Guilty!’ Iris announced triumphantly.

‘That’s an appalling accusation,’ said Max. ‘Can you substantiate it?’

‘SHE can.’ Iris pointed at TammyLee.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Max. He looked at TammyLee. ‘It’s not true, is it? Tell me it’s not true.’

Diana put both arms round TammyLee and held her tightly. ‘Surely this isn’t true, darling? Darling?’ TammyLee was silent, holding the edges of her secret together with a long
practised strength.

Iris was using up my love so fast I didn’t think I could give any more. I jumped down and ran to the sofa, to sit between TammyLee and Diana, and from there I could see Amber’s
puzzled face watching us through the glass door, her tail down.

The talking went on, and on, with the clock ticking loudly in the silence and the rain adding a hush to the house. The flames in the fireplace lost their energy and began to glow, and sink into
scarlet.

Seeming to be intimidated by his mum, Dylan took no part in the conversation, only responding with a grunt or a shrug. They argued about dates and lies, while Diana sat with the newspaper
picture of Rocky in her hands, smoothing it and gazing at the baby’s bright little face.

After one of the silences, she said, ‘So . . . you think that this little boy is my grandson?’

‘And mine,’ said Iris. She pointed at TammyLee. ‘And she’s the mother. Aren’t you? Come on, admit it.’

‘I’m not admitting anything,’ said TammyLee stonily.

Iris leaned forward in her chair. ‘Then if you won’t admit it, we’ll have no choice. I’m not letting this go. We’ll go to the social workers . . . and my son will
have a DNA test done. At least he’s coming clean about what he did . . . and he wants to be a father to that baby. You lot think my Dylan’s a bad boy, but I know different. If
he’s got the guts to own up, why haven’t you . . . Tammy whatever your name is? Stubborn aren’t you? . . . Madam!’

‘Will you SHUT UP!’ screamed TammyLee, her hands clutching her temples. ‘Just shut the hell up and get out of our house. GO. Just GO.’

‘Please, darling . . . shh . . . it’s OK. Max and I will support you whatever happens . . . we’re here.’ Diana turned to Iris. ‘I think . . . it would be best if
you go and leave us to talk to our Tam on her own. Then we’ll get back to you, I promise. Can you understand that . . . as a mum?’