‘Your things . . . have you – you mean now?’ I saw the corner of Debbie’s mouth twitch.
‘If that’s okay?’ Linda asked, with an ingratiating smile. ‘I just threw a few things in the car this morning, to keep me going.’
‘Er, okay,’ Debbie answered, her eyes flitting anxiously around the cluttered room. ‘I’d better clear up some of this mess, to make some space for you.’
‘Deb, please, don’t go to any trouble – it’ll be fine. You’ll hardly know I’m here,’ Linda insisted. She jumped up from her chair, startling the kittens who scattered skittishly across the room, and grabbed a bunch of keys from her bag. ‘I’ll just nip down and get my stuff from the car. Back in two minutes,’ she said, pulling on her boots.
‘Hang on, you’ll need the key for the café door,’ Debbie called after her sister’s retreating back.
Linda leant back through the doorway, smiling as Debbie tossed her a key. ‘Thanks. I’ll get a copy cut tomorrow,’ she said airily.
Downstairs, the café door slammed shut. In the living room Debbie stood next to the dining table, looking slightly shell-shocked. Slowly the kittens began to emerge from their various hiding places, still jumpy after Linda’s sudden departure. Debbie watched them with a preoccupied look for a few moments until, with a brisk shake of her head, she set about trying to tidy up. She had just picked up the stack of newspapers from the coffee table when the café door tinkled again.
‘It’s only me,’ Linda shouted from the bottom of the stairwell.
Clutching the papers, Debbie listened as Linda mounted the stairs. Her tread was slow and laboured, accompanied by sporadic grunts of frustration, and every step was followed by a dull thud as something heavy hit the floor.
‘Linda, are you all right?’ Debbie called, hastily setting the newspapers back down. She winced at the sound of scraping against a wall in the hallway.
I watched from the corner of the room as a large plastic container came through the door, followed by Linda, pink-faced from exertion. In addition to the plastic container that she held in front of her body, she was also pulling a wheeled suitcase behind her. She edged past the dining table, almost knocking over a dining chair, and Debbie automatically stepped forward to take the container, placing it in the middle of the floor.
It took me a moment to register that the container was a pet carrier; and it was a further few seconds before I realized, with a sickening lurch in my stomach, that the animal inside was a dog.
3
Linda wheeled her suitcase across the room and stood it beneath the window, then puffed out her cheeks with relief.
‘Um, Linda, what’s this?’ Debbie asked, looking dubiously at the pet carrier, which had begun to wobble on the rug.
‘Oh, this is Beau. Didn’t I mention him?’ Linda’s voice was offhand.
I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at her, before returning my gaze to the quaking plastic box. The kittens stood around the living room, fascinated and alarmed in equal measure. Purdy, who had always been the most confident of the siblings, strode brazenly towards the carrier, sniffing the air as she prowled in a circle around it. The box fell ominously still as its occupant sensed her silent movements. The other kittens looked on, happy to let their braver sister do the investigating for them.
‘No, I’m pretty sure you didn’t mention him. Beau is a dog, I take it?’ Debbie replied, in the unnaturally even tone she used when trying not to lose her temper with Sophie.
‘Yes, but he’s only small, and very well trained,’ Linda reassured her. She crouched down in front of the carrier, which started to rock violently as its occupant scuffled to the front and began to paw at the wire door. ‘You’re a good boy, aren’t you, Beau? Do you want to come out?’ she cooed in a babyish voice, her lips puckering into a pout.
A small black nose appeared through a gap in the door, and a pink tongue flicked underneath, reaching for Linda’s face. I averted my eyes, repulsed by the demeaning display of canine submission, but the licking had the desired effect on Linda; she kissed the wet nose and began to unlock the carrier.
Before the door was even fully open, the dog had shot out into the room, where his demeanour changed instantly from submissive to aggressively territorial. He was a buff-coloured fluffy creature – not much larger than me – with short, stubby legs and a plume of a tail that curled back over his body. The fur around his cheeks had been neatly trimmed to emphasize the teddy-bear-like roundness of his snub-nosed face; and his dark eyes, which were half-hidden beneath feathery eyebrows, darted beadily around the room.
I scanned the area to locate all the kittens, praying they were near enough the door to be able to escape, should they need to. My eye was immediately drawn to Purdy, who was on the living-room rug behind Beau’s carrier. The nonchalance she had displayed while Beau was incarcerated had vanished now that he was free. She had drawn herself up into a defiant arc, with her hackles raised and tail fluffed voluminously.
As if sensing her presence, Beau turned and fixed his dark eyes insolently on Purdy. She stared unblinkingly back at him and, for a moment, the room was silent and still. Then, with a vicious growl, he lunged across the floor towards her. Purdy responded instinctively, with an explosion of spitting and hissing, and for a moment it was impossible to distinguish dog from cat, as they merged into a writhing mass of limbs and fur. The other kittens leapt for safety, sending papers and empty mugs flying as they tried to get as far away from the melee as possible.
‘Beau! Oh my God. Beau, baby – stop!’ Linda shrieked, with absolutely no effect whatsoever.
Purdy scrambled on top of the pet carrier, from where, with her claws bared and ears flat against her head, she let out a rapid volley of bats against Beau’s upturned muzzle. Confused by her sudden height advantage, Beau seemed rooted to the spot, powerless to defend himself against her repeated blows. The sound of claws snagging on skin was followed by Beau’s high-pitched yelp and a gasp of shock from Linda. Then it was all over: realizing the battle was lost, Beau fled, scuttling into Linda’s open arms.
She made soothing noises and kissed the tip of his nose as Beau whimpered pathetically. I turned to look at Debbie, wondering why she had gone to stand by the window, seemingly to stare at the ceiling. Following her eye-line upwards, I realized that Abby and Bella had both shot up the curtain and were now crouched on the curtain pole, rigid with fear, resolutely ignoring her attempts to coax them down. Throughout the drama Eddie had remained by my side, alert but sanguine, perhaps reassured by his proximity to me. Maisie, the smallest and shyest of my kittens, was nowhere to be seen; I hoped she had either escaped through the door or taken refuge behind the sofa.
Deciding to leave Abby and Bella where they were, Debbie turned back to face the room. ‘Linda,’ she said, rubbing her forehead, ‘I think maybe we should keep Beau and the cats apart for now, at least until they all get used to each other. Don’t you?’
Beau was lying on his back in Linda’s arms, licking frantically at her face in a way that made my stomach turn. ‘You might be right,’ Linda replied, looking at Beau with a distraught expression. ‘The poor thing’s traumatized, bless him.’
Downstairs, the café door slammed. ‘Hi, Mum,’ shouted Sophie. Beau immediately wriggled out of Linda’s grip, dropped to the floor and started yapping demonically.
‘Hi, love,’ Debbie called back meekly, with a look that suggested she expected the situation was about to take a turn for the worse. We all listened as Sophie ascended the stairs, Beau’s bark increasing in ferocity with every step she took. When Sophie appeared in the doorway, Maisie picked her moment to dart out from behind the sofa, shooting between Sophie’s legs to make a break for the stairs. The combination of Maisie’s escape and Sophie’s arrival proved irresistible for Beau. He bolted after Maisie, practically knocking the unsuspecting Sophie off her feet.