Solomon's Kitten (9 page)

I maintained my searching stare, and her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘I don’t deserve you. I’m a bad girl. And you know, don’t you, Tallulah? You were there when I . . .
did what I did.’

I responded with a mini purr-meow, and sat still, watching and waiting.

‘You know what I did . . . that terrible night.’ TammyLee was stroking me with her hands, one each side of me, her slim fingers buried in my fur. ‘And you went back,
didn’t you? You saw my baby – my Rocky. I think about him all the time.’

I licked the tears from her cheeks, but more and more came and she moved her hands to press hard against her temples. I watched the deep, dark pain rise to the surface, and sink back again into
the green depths of her eyes.

‘I knew I was pregnant, and I didn’t dare tell Dad – he’d have killed me – and I had mum to look after, and my school stuff. I kept hoping I’d miscarry, and I
hid my bump under loose clothes, ’cause I’m fat anyway. I told people I was bingeing on cream cakes and stuff. Oh, you’re a gorgeous cat, Tallulah . . .’ she paused to give
me an extra cuddle, and gazed into my attentive eyes. ‘Even when he started moving, I kind of convinced myself it wasn’t true – I was in TOTAL denial, and so, so scared. I went
into labour on the way to school and I was terrified, Tallulah – I ran away and sat in the churchyard. I thought about topping myself. I stayed there all day, until it got bad – really
bad. I went in the toilets and he was born so quickly,’ her voice dropped to a whisper – ‘and the placenta came out too – it was terrible. Thank God no one was in there,
’cause I was screaming and so was he. I thought I was gonna die. Then I cut the cord with nail scissors – it took ages – and all I had to wrap him in was a scarf . . . and he . .
. he looked at me, and I can’t get his little face out of my mind. I panicked then, didn’t think about anything except how I could get rid of him. I’m so wicked, Tallulah.
I’m evil. I’ll never forgive myself . . . and I can’t tell anyone, only you.’

I listened and listened, and for the first time in my life, I felt needed. I was aware of an angel who was holding TammyLee in her shining arms.

‘I was fourteen,’ she whispered. ‘I was desperate . . . and I’m still desperate, Tallulah . . . I’m a prisoner, you see. Like you were, in that pen. I’m a
prisoner.’

She rocked herself to and fro, her aura flooded with the memories. I tasted the intensity of her secret pain. But I was puzzled. Why was she a prisoner? And did that mean I would be one too? I
put my paws around her neck and hugged her, purring a loud vibrational purr. That pain inside her needed to come out and, over time, I would coax it out with my purring, healing love. She hugged me
back, and rocked me, and whispered, ‘You’re a wonderful, fantabulous, gorgeous cat.’

I chose that moment to send her a strong message, that I wanted to go outside. She didn’t get it, so I jumped on to the windowsill and meowed, looking down at the tantalising garden.

‘Are you hungry?’ asked TammyLee.

I looked at the garden again and back into her eyes.

‘Oh, you want to go out? Of course you can, darling. Penny said to keep you in for a few days, but you’re not going to run away, are you, Tallulah? I’ll take you out after
breakfast . . . but first . . .’

As she spoke, I heard Diana’s thin voice calling out:

‘I’m awake dear. Are you coming?’

‘Yes, I’ll be right there, Mum.’

TammyLee picked me up.

‘You can come and watch,’ she said. ‘I look after Mum. I’m her carer. I’ve gotta do everything for her. Get her up, help her wash and dress, then I do the housework
and stuff. Then I go to school, but not today, ’cause it’s holiday, whatever that’s supposed to mean!’

She sounded bitter and tired, but as she carried me down a corridor and into her mum’s bedroom, everything changed, and, if I’d been a human, I’d have gasped in surprise.

The room she took me into was full of angels. One at each side of the bed head, and one on each side at the foot of the bed – they were still as water lilies, their colours lemon and
white. They were so dazzling that I could hardly see their faces, or anything else in the room.

In that wonderful moment, I became my true soul self again, the Queen of Cats. I puffed out my fur, and my aura became huge, my eyes like bright suns as I sat soaking up the light from the
angels, and purring so loudly that the vibration sent stardust whizzing through my aura. I looked round at each angel in turn, and realised that these were ‘comfort angels’. I’d
seen many of them in the spirit world, and they rarely moved, but just emanated love and stillness. Sometimes, they sent out tendrils of healing colour, and I noticed they were doing this to
TammyLee as she stood by the bed. They were wrapping her in ribbons of love.

Then it hit me.

TammyLee couldn’t see the angels.

She couldn’t feel the waves of light from their love.

She was earthbound.

‘What a funny cat.’ TammyLee’s mum was saying. ‘Why is she sitting with her back to me . . . and what is she looking at?’

I turned round and saw Diana sitting up in bed, her cheeks hollow, her eyes dancing, her white hands stretching out to stroke me. I loved her straightaway.

‘I’m Diana,’ she said, ‘but you can call me Mum.’

She was a beautiful soul, and I decided to call her Diana, not Mum. I walked up to the bed and made a fuss of her, kissing her thin face.

I settled down in the corner of the bed under one of the angels, and watched TammyLee in surprise. When she was helping Diana, she seemed like a different person from the crying, desperate girl
I’d seen. She acted like a cat lady, being calm and cheerful, doing everything, even the awkward jobs, with kindness and skill, her bangles jangling as she washed and dressed Diana. The two
women talked happily, mostly about me and Amber and the garden. It was obvious to me that TammyLee loved her mum very much. I felt a twinge of envy. If only I’d had my mum, Jessica, in my
life, I might have been a better cat.

TammyLee helped Diana to walk with a frame, to the top of the stairs, and sat her in a chair. She flicked a switch and the chair glided down the stairs to Amber, who was waiting at the bottom,
her tail wagging, her front paws quivering with excitement.

We all had breakfast together, and TammyLee did everything, hardly sitting down herself, but marching about with toast in her hand.

‘Hasn’t Tallulah settled down well?’ remarked Diana. ‘What a GOOD cat!’

I glowed. After the names Gretel had called me, hearing that was like a healing touch on my soul.

The room with the angels soon became one of my favourite places to curl up during the day when TammyLee had gone to school. I loved the softness and the colours of
Diana’s room, the wind chimes tinkling in the open window, the wide windowsill with velvet cushions, the way the sun streamed in and gilded the sparkly scarves hanging on the back of the
door. A glass crystal in the window splashed rainbows over everything, and once, for a magic moment, I had one on my fur. I lay very still, squinting at the intense colour as it rose and fell with
my breathing, feeling it healing something deep within me, a part of me that had been damaged by the time in Gretel’s hot car.

Amber acted strangely in Diana’s room. She wouldn’t stand up and wag her tail. She’d hover in the doorway and then creep in on her belly to see Diana, and sit with her chin on
the bed and just the tip of her tail flipping as she offered Diana first one paw, then the other. From my lofty perch on top of the bookshelves, I studied her weird behaviour and the way she and
Diana gazed at each other. If Diana closed her eyes, Amber would whine and push her nose into the limp hand hanging over the side of the bed.

‘It’s all right, Amber. I’m not going to snuff it yet,’ she said, opening her eyes, and I watched the relief flood through the dog’s soft face. Sadness, and intense
anxiety, I thought – I have to get to know this dog, she’s such a complex being.

Later, I lay on the doormat next to Amber’s shining warm body.

‘Why are you so sad around Diana?’ I asked.

Amber gave a deep sigh and I could see her processing the reply. I waited.

‘Diana is ill, and I don’t want her to die,’ she said, and a tear rolled out of the corner of her left eye.

I made a fuss, purring and rubbing my head against her and she seemed to like it now. She left her head down for me, then rolled onto her side and let me walk all over her, stepping over her
paws and along her back, and purring into her ear.

‘I’m Diana’s dog,’ said Amber. ‘She came and chose me when I was a puppy, and she taught me everything, even how to cross the road safely. She used to take me for
lovely walks along the river and up into the hills, and she was never in a hurry like TammyLee and Max. She liked to sit for ages and listen to the water. She said it had a heartbeat.’

‘I’d like to hear that,’ I said. ‘Next time you go to the river, I’m going to come.’

‘You won’t like it,’ said Amber. ‘We go through a park with big dogs racing about. It’s no place for a cat, believe me.’

‘I’ll find a way,’ I said, visualising myself on TammyLee’s shoulder or running through the tree-tops like a squirrel.

‘And there are lots of people,’ Amber said, ‘but, when I go with TammyLee, she takes me out of the park and up to the waterfalls and it’s quiet. We go to a pool and she
likes to swim with me.’

‘Swim?’ I was horrified. ‘I shan’t be doing THAT.’

TammyLee tried to discourage me from going on her walks with Amber, but I passionately wanted to go. So I learned to anticipate when it was going to happen, and slipped outside to hide in the
garden, then belt after them with my tail flying.

The first few times, TammyLee tried to take me home, but I wouldn’t let her catch me, and, eventually, she understood my need to go with them, and realised I was well able to look after
myself. Avoiding the park, she headed down a footpath, which led straight to the river, close enough to home for me to go on my own! I couldn’t wait to do some private hunting.

We had a wonderful summer, and when the chill of autumn came and the river glowed with floating leaves, TammyLee dragged lots of wood logs inside and lit a cosy fire. Amber and I sat watching
the flames and warming ourselves, while TammyLee marched around, cooking, cleaning and caring.

‘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.