The Water
BARNEY FELL FAST through the air, staring at the stars, distant diamonds resting on a black satin sky, the last beautiful thing he thought he’d ever see. Then his body twisted and righted itself so his paws were facing the water.
Down and down and—
Splash.
He hit the water hard with his paws. He’d fallen so fast it felt harder than water. And then he was in it, in the freezing, dirty, mammoth river, being pulled along by the current.
‘Help!’ he miaowed, trying to keep his head up. ‘Somebody!’
But it was no good.
He glanced at the river bank.
The large empty buildings were sliding by at the speed of the water. He looked to the other bank, on his right side. It was even further, and not a house or building or person in sight. Just a jagged fringe of wild grass, too far away to offer any hope.
Barney kicked desperately with all his legs, and it took every single piece of energy simply to keep his head out of the water.
‘Swim,’ he told himself. ‘Come on … swim.’
He tried to head towards the left bank because it was slightly closer. But the current was getting faster. It was like being a piece of dust shooting up a vacuum cleaner. He had never felt so small and useless and weak.
Then he realized why the water was speeding up. He was heading towards the weir. Even if he managed to keep his head above the river for another ten minutes it would be no good – he’d reach the weir and drown for sure.
Think … think … think …
But the voice in his head quickly changed.
Sink … sink … sink …
He was going to die, under a thousand shining stars.
Stars!
He knew Rissa’s barge was two-minutes’ walk from the weir, moored on the left bank. In fact, he realized he could just about see it ahead, its strip of low windows softly lighting the water.
And he was sure he could see Rissa out on deck, staring up at the stars with her telescope.
But the barge was still miles away. Cat miles, anyway. And although the current might have been carrying him in the right direction, he was being sent in a straight line, not a diagonal one. So he tried to angle himself, using every last grain of strength to paddle his tired, cold, stiff legs towards the barge.
Slowly he made some progress, but slowly wasn’t good enough. There was no way he would be able to reach the barge. He’d seen enough triangles in maths lessons to know the angle wasn’t sharp enough.
And even if it was, it would be impossible to climb on board.
Yet he kept going. He remembered being in a swimming pool wearing his pyjamas for a life-saving badge, and having to give up because his legs were too tired. His freezing legs were ten times as tired now, but being a cat had somehow helped him find a courage and determination he never knew were there.
He thought of nothing but the barge, and the Fairweathers’ warm home inside as he tried to block out how cold and heavy the water was starting to feel.
Help! he miaowed when he could swim no more. Rissa! Help! Help!
Her silhouette stayed watching the star-strewn sky.
His head slipped under water, then back up into air again.
Rissa! Someone! Anyone!
She moved.
He was sure she moved.
She stood up, looked out at the water.
‘Rissa!’
To his horror she sat down again. But then she lowered the telescope and looked out across the water. As she did so Barney kicked all four of his legs in frantic desperation to keep his head as high and visible as possible.
His friend left the telescope and went inside the barge. At first he thought she hadn’t seen him. But a moment later she came back out again with a man with a beard. Her dad. In a moment that seemed like for ever, he too had a look through the telescope.
Barney called out.
He didn’t even bother with words this time. Words which wouldn’t be understood.
He just made the loudest wailing miaow he could manage. A miaow that exhausted him. A miaow fuelled by every miserable moment since his parents’ divorce.
They heard it. Saw him. Rissa’s dad stood up and, without thinking, jumped into the water and started swimming.
Hold on, Barney told himself. Just one more minute.
Just hold on …
Hold on …
Hold …
The Barge
… ON.
It was just enough.
He held on.
Rissa’s dad reached him, his hand grabbing Barney’s belly at the moment he was about to be pulled under.
‘You’re OK, little fellow,’ Mr Fairweather said, himself exhausted, but determined to keep the cat above water as he made a shattering one-arm swim back to the barge.
Once there he quickly got Barney inside. Then Rissa and her mother attended to him in their long, warm and very thin living room while Mr Fairweather had a bath.
Barney had met Rissa’s parents before, and liked them, but to be perfectly honest he had found them a little bit odd.
They lived on a barge, for a start. And they didn’t even own a TV, let alone watch one. And they could spend hours talking about star formations. They had a computer but he’d never seen it. They did have a phone too, but one that looked like it came from 1973. And Rissa’s dad had his big beard and wore long woolly jumpers with holes in them almost down to his knees, and made vegetarian meals full of strange ingredients like quinoa and buckwheat.
He was a carpenter, and Rissa’s mum an artist. She painted pictures of plants and had them all over the walls. She had really long hair and naturally rosy cheeks and wore dungarees. She seemed to be in a state of extreme happiness all the time.
Their names were Robert and Sarah, which were the only ordinary things about them.
But Barney was now totally convinced they were the very best people you could hope to meet.
While Rissa dried Barney with a warm towel, her mum fed him pieces of the most delicious cheese he’d ever tasted in his life.
‘This is Cornish Yarg,’ she told him in a voice as warm as the stove which heated the room. ‘The best cheese in the world. But I’m from Cornwall so I’m biased.’
She gave him another large yellow crumb.
‘You poor little thing,’ she was saying. ‘You’re so hungry.’
Rissa stroked behind his ear. ‘It’s that cat, you know, the one I told you about … The one that Miss Whipmire locked up. The one all those other cats were chasing after.’
Her mum looked puzzled. She loved her daughter, but what she’d told her and Robert that evening was rather a lot to take in. ‘Oh, that’s weird. Are you sure it’s the same cat?’
‘Yep. Same white patch. Same eyes.’
Rissa studied him.
Rissa, Barney miaowed.
‘There’s something strange about you,’ his friend said, tenderly stroking his ear in a way that made him feel embarrassed. ‘I really feel like I’ve known you for ages.’
You have! You have!
She stared at him a bit more, and then shook her head as if shaking away a silly and impossible thought.
‘What do you think happened to him?’ Rissa asked. ‘Do you think those cats chased him into the water? Or do you think it had something to do with Miss Whipmire?’
‘Well, don’t worry. We’ve told the animal helpline. I’m sure they’ll look into Miss Whipmire.’
Rissa thought about mentioning the trip to the cattery but didn’t. She knew her parents would say she should tell Barney’s mum, but Mrs Willow had enough on her plate right now.