But Barney began to feel angry. And the anger brought questions.
Why did it happen?
ANSWER: His dad had been feeling sad, and had seen a happy cat basking in the sun.
But why had he wanted to be a cat in the first place, when he had a son who loved him?
ANSWER (a rubbish one, in Barney’s opinion): Because since the divorce he didn’t see that much of him. And because he was just feeling sorry for himself.
Did he think of Barney?
ANSWER: Every moment of every day, which is why he waited at the window each morning to see him on the way to the park with Guster (who always stopped him getting any closer). He said he thought of everything. Of the apple and blackberry crumble he used to enjoy. Of the long walks in Bluebell Wood that he didn’t dare visit now, owing to all the dogs that went there. He thought of his dream of opening a garden centre. And of swimming backstroke in a pool.
So what happened to the cat that turned into him?
ANSWER: He’s working at a cattery in Edgarton. He was a kind creature and had wanted to help other cats who had to stay in the most rotten cattery in the world. So now Edgarton Cattery is a nice place, and one where cats who have been there wish their owners would go on holiday for ever.
Did he know how they could turn back into humans?
ANSWER: Yes. Find the cats who’d turned into them, and wish they were human again.
Barney mulled this over.
‘So, why didn’t you go to Edgarton and change back?’
Barney’s dad looked cautious, the way cats do when they stand looking at snow, not knowing where to step. ‘He came and found me. A month ago. He was feeling guilty. And he said he wanted to be a cat again and all I had to do was wish I was a human …’
‘So what happened?’ asked Barney.
His dad sighed. ‘Nothing. I stayed like this.’
‘But, why? Does it take longer? Might it still happen?’
‘No. It’s supposed to be quicker, instantaneous, when you wish back, because it’s a shorter distance to your own self than it is to someone else’s. That’s the theory.’
‘So why are you still a cat?’
Barney’s dad dipped his head. ‘I … I … didn’t want to be me enough.’
This made Barney so furious he felt his claws protrude. ‘Dad! Don’t you realize how worried everyone’s been about you?! I’ve had nightmares and everything …’
Barney’s dad looked sad. His eye couldn’t cry but Barney felt the invisible tears.
‘Yes, I’m sorry. But that wasn’t enough.’
‘What?’ hissed Barney.
The old lady came into the kitchen to put the kettle on. ‘Now, now, sweethearts … behave yourselves. We are all friends here, aren’t we, Pickles?’
‘Look,’ continued the cat who had once been known as Neil Willow. ‘I wanted more than anything for you and your mum to know I was safe, and if I could have pressed a button for you
to stop worrying I’d have pressed it. But the more I hated myself for upsetting you and your mum, the less happy I was with myself. The human me. Turns out you have to actually like yourself to become yourself …’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘I wasn’t the best father,’ his dad went on. ‘And I certainly wasn’t a good employee at Blandford Garden Centre any more. And so, as a human, I was too weak. I’d become a miserable grump, to be honest, son. And so I couldn’t be happy with who I was and switch back once I’d changed.’
‘So you were trapped?’
His dad hesitated.
The old woman made her cup of tea then hobbled away. ‘Be good, kitties,’ she croaked.
‘Well, I suppose so,’ Barney’s dad said uncertainly in answer to his son’s question.
‘But …?’ said Barney, sensing there was more.
‘But I don’t want you to pity me. The thing is, in a way there is a good side to being a cat. You know, I am respected. I have a warm home. I am fed. I have milk to drink …’
Barney was disappointed. ‘But don’t you want to live with us? As a human?’
Mr Willow gently rested his head against his son’s and kept it there. ‘Barney, I don’t think your mum would want that. And she’s right. We made each other unhappy, and that made you unhappy.’
The truth of these words weighed Barney down. He was right. His mum and dad were separated, whatever species they were. ‘OK, Dad. Well, at least you’re alive.’
Barney had a million more things to say, but right now he said none of them, choosing to listen to the simple love he felt from his father’s purr.
Hiding in the Bush
THEY HAD A bit more milk and went into the living room.
There were adverts on TV. Fluffy Labrador puppies advertising toilet paper. It was like watching a horror movie. Then the sound of barking, outside.
Out of the window, a boy went past walking his dog. The dog was straining desperately on his lead.
‘Did you see that?’ Barney asked his father. ‘It’s him. I mean, me. Walking Guster …’ He looked back to the door. ‘How do you get out of here?’
His dad’s eye shone with concern. ‘Barney, it’s dangerous out there. Guster isn’t our friend any more. He hates us. He wants to kill us. And what about your other self? The you-who-isn’t-you. He could be any cat. The one who turned into me had honourable reasons, but there’s no knowing what your cat’s reasons were.’
‘He wants to live with his mum,’ said Barney. ‘But his mum’s evil. In fact …’
Barney stared at the white stitching on his dad’s eye socket and was about to tell him that Miss Whipmire was probably responsible for that too, but realized there wasn’t time right now.
‘Doesn’t sound good.’
‘No. It’s not. Which is why I’ve got to speak to Guster.’
Barney’s dad was on the verge of responding when his son walked out of the room towards the front door. He followed, caught up with him in the hallway. ‘No. The cat flap’s this way.’
And they headed out together, down an alley, across the road and up the little tarmac slope into the park.
They hid in a bush.
Watching.
‘Stay as quiet as you can,’ Barney’s dad purr-whispered (or rather, to use the proper expression, whispurred). ‘Guster’s heading over.’
It was true. Within seconds, there was Guster’s wet nose poking through the leaves.
‘Good gracious,’ Guster was saying to himself. ‘One does believe one can smell something of the feline persuasion lurking in the area. Come on, you vile thwarted tinch-tigers, where are you?’
‘We’re here,’ announced Barney.
Barney’s dad couldn’t believe it. ‘What are you doing?’
But Barney carried on. ‘Guster, it’s me. Barney.’
‘You,’ growled Guster, spotting Barney behind the leaves. ‘The trespasser!’
‘No. I’ve never trespassed. Just listen. Please. That boy who’s brought you to the park isn’t me.’
Guster was furious. ‘Right, that’s my quota! One cannot take any more of such insolence. I am going to have to kill you and your acquaintance.’
His head reached right into the bush, baring teeth.
‘Run!’ said Barney’s dad.
But Barney was stuck. Tangled amid twigs.
Mr Willow ran back, jumping in front of his son to save him.
Guster was right there now, straight ahead of Barney’s dad, with every single deadly tooth on display. ‘To defy me is to defy my long-dead king. Oh, well, you first then.’
‘You can’t,’ said the cat formerly known as Neil Willow. ‘I am the Terrorcat.’
‘The Terror-what?’
‘I have powers you could not dream of.’
But, unlike the cat population of Blandford, Guster had never heard of the Terrorcat and so didn’t really care. ‘Well, you didn’t use them last time I saw you. When you tried to speak to me through the kitchen window.’