Authors: Sheila Jeffries
‘But what am I doing here?’ I asked.
‘Wait,’ she repeated patiently, ‘and soon you will know.’
One of the babies was waking up. I could see a plump little hand waving from the pushchair.
‘She’s too hot. Aren’t you, my darling?’ Maddie stood up, lifted the baby girl out and sat down again, nursing her.
Then the other baby started to scream and kick vigorously at the pushchair. Kaye was on her feet instantly.
‘What’s the matter, darling? Want to get out, do you? All right, all right. Wait a minute while Mummy undoes the straps.’
‘He’s a bruiser!’ said Maddie, laughing, and the baby cried even more furiously while Kaye struggled to lift him out. He was big and energetic, his face red with the crying,
his arms and legs thrashing.
‘Here we go,’ said Kaye, heaving him onto her lap. ‘He’s in a strop.’
‘Go out there,’ said my angel, ‘and purr.’
I pulled up my tail, straightened my whiskers, and walked out into the sunshine.
‘Oh, look . . . a cat. A pretty pussycat,’ said Kaye.
The effect on the crying child was instant.
‘Tat!’ he shouted, and clapped his fat little hands. ‘Tat!’
I jumped up onto the warm bench between the two women and turned on the purring, rubbing my head against first one and then the other.
‘Oh, lovely . . . friendly cat. You stroke him, he’s soft,’ said Maddie, putting her baby girl’s tiny hand on my fur. It felt like a butterfly.
‘Tat!’ The baby boy was getting more and more excited. ‘Mine.’
‘No, he’s not your cat,’ said Kaye. ‘But you can stroke him . . . or her, is it?’
‘Tat . . . mine,’ insisted the baby boy, and he held out his arms to me. I went to him, purring, and let him put both his chubby arms around my neck.
‘Don’t strangle the poor cat,’ said Kaye, laughing.
I let the baby boy love me and listen to my purr. I kissed his red nose and he giggled, patting me a bit too hard. I sat up and looked at him. I saw turquoise eyes, full of astonishment. I saw a
mole on his cheek. And I knew why my angel had brought me here.
It was Rocky.
I stared into Rocky’s soul and he stared back. Going deep into those turquoise eyes, I saw that Rocky was ages old and full of light. I kept staring deeper and deeper
until I discovered a pocket of darkness, which I recognised instantly as the pain of abandonment. Once I’d found it, I wanted to heal it, so I purred and purred, and stretched my paws over
his steady little heart.
‘You can’t,’ said my angel. ‘It is part of him, part of his journey. He will always carry that memory, as you carry yours.’
I kept purring, sending stars into Rocky’s soul with all my energy, thinking I might never see him again, but knowing I had to find a way to reunite him with his true mother. I sent him
pictures from my mind, of TammyLee, and how bitterly she regretted dumping him, how much she loved him. He accepted them, but his eyes looked puzzled. He pointed at Kaye.
‘Mum . . . mum,’ he said, and looked back at me ‘Tat! Mine.’
I kissed Rocky on the nose and he squealed with delight.
‘You shouldn’t let cats kiss babies,’ said Maddie, disapprovingly.
Kaye smiled. ‘I don’t believe that. It’s medical paranoia.’
‘But what about germs?’ Maddie was holding her own baby very tightly.
‘What about them? We can’t let germs stand in the way of LOVE,’ said Kaye passionately. ‘This cat is giving him so much love. Look at her . . . purring like a sewing
machine.’ She put her hand on my back. ‘I can feel the vibration right through her body. And Rocky’s loving it. Aren’t you, darling?’
‘Tat!’ shouted Rocky. Then he reached out and patted the square brass in the middle of the bench. ‘Dat?’ he asked.
‘That’s a commemorative plaque, sweetheart,’ said Kaye. ‘And it says “ROCKY’S BENCH”.’
There was a silence while the words sank into our minds.
‘Are you going to tell him about it?’ asked Maddie.
‘Not yet,’ Kaye replied, kissing Rocky’s silky dark head. ‘When he’s old enough. And IF Social Services decide we can actually adopt him. We want to so much.
He’s my LIFE, aren’t you, Rocky?’
I turned my attention to Kaye, and gave her an intense stare.
‘This cat’s got such amazing eyes,’ she said. ‘Golden and so knowing.’
‘Wasn’t a cat there when Rocky was found?’ asked Maddie. ‘You showed me a press cutting. It did look like this one. Didn’t the police think it might belong to the
mother?’
‘They did, but it belonged to an old lady on the other side of town,’ said Kaye, but the joy in her eyes had clouded and I saw that she was afraid of losing Rocky. She looked away,
and I felt our contact had been abruptly shut down.
‘We’d better get back, Maddie. I’ve got to start Greg’s tea.’
‘Dad, Dad!’ shouted Rocky.
‘Yes . . . Daddy’s tea. And Rocky’s tea and a birthday cake with one candle.’ She stood up and gently lifted Rocky away from me. ‘Say goodbye to the lovely puss
cat.’
Rocky struggled and screamed. ‘Tat . . . mine.’ Kaye rolled her eyes and wrestled him into the pushchair. He kicked and stomped, shaking the whole pushchair, while Maddie was putting
her quiet little baby into hers.
‘Come on,’ Kaye said, over the screaming. ‘The sooner we go, the sooner he’ll calm down. Calm down, Rocky, it’s not your cat. We can see her another day.’
Maddie wagged a finger at me. ‘Don’t you follow us!’
I sat down on the warm bench and watched them go, Kaye walking briskly with her thrashing cargo. His screams faded into the distance. ‘Tat . . . mine. Tat . . . mine.’
I decided to stay out, and make my way home after dark, thinking that most dogs would have gone home and it would be safe for me to run through the park. Rocky’s bench was perfect for me
to sleep on. But first, I checked it out for any sign that TammyLee had been there. Right in the middle, near the brass plaque, I detected a faint scent of her. Then between the slats of wood, I
saw something interesting.
I jumped down to investigate, and, hidden behind one of the bench legs, was a small posy of flowers, wild flowers mostly, but in the centre was a single red rose, tied together with one of the
glittery rubber bands TammyLee used in her hair. Her scent was on it, and I knew for sure that she had been there and left a posy for Rocky.
It was dark when I arrived home, and TammyLee was in the garden with a torch, looking for me. My tail was bushed out and the fur along my spine was stiff with fright after my
long trip home alone in the dark.
‘Oh, there you are!’ cried TammyLee. ‘Where have you BEEN?’
I jumped straight into her arms, and she felt me all over. ‘Are you OK, Tallulah? Look at your tail! It’s like a hairbrush. What scared you?’
If only I could talk her language and tell her I’d seen Rocky. All I could do was purr and reach up to her concerned face with my paws. She’d been crying. Sobs lingered, deep down in
her chest, spasmodically surfacing. I sensed the pain.
‘Dad’s mad with me,’ she said as she carried me indoors. ‘For walking home along the river on my own, and being late, and being rude.’
There was a tense atmosphere in the house, as if something was going to explode. Max was hunched at the table, frowning at his laptop. He glanced up with cold eyes.
‘Thank God for that,’ he said. ‘Where was she?’
‘She just appeared,’ said TammyLee, ‘like cats do.’
‘Now perhaps we’ll get some PEACE,’ said Max wearily.
TammyLee stood there with me in her arms. I nuzzled against her and the pulse throbbing in her neck felt hot.
‘Is that all you care about, Dad?’ she asked. ‘So-called “peace”.’
Max pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes.
‘Dad?’
‘I am not going to engage with further provocation,’ said Max, and a hard grey shell closed around his aura. He turned back to his laptop and tapped at the keys like a terrier
digging a hole.
‘Fine. Don’t bother,’ said TammyLee. She put me down and marched into the kitchen. I ran to see Amber, who was lying quietly on her bed, her ears drooping and only the tip of
her tail moving. She whined and lifted a paw to me. I wanted to describe my adventure by the river, and tell her about Rocky’s turquoise eyes, but she wasn’t in a receptive mood.
‘There was a terrible row,’ she told me. ‘TammyLee was in a temper and she burned Max’s tea and slammed the plate down on the table. She shouted and swore at him, and
every time Max tried to say something, she shouted even louder. I hated it, I hid behind the curtain, and now I’ve been on my bed for too long and I haven’t had a walk.’
Amber looked miserable and anxious. I gave her lots of love, weaving my way round her, brushing her face with my tail. She gradually relaxed, and when I ran into the kitchen for my supper, Amber
crept over to Max and leaned against his leg.
‘You haven’t had a walk, have you?’ I heard him say, and he shut the laptop.
‘Where’s your lead?’
Amber instantly became her joyful self again, charged into the kitchen, nearly knocking me over as I ate my tuna chunks. She circled the lounge and jumped right over the sofa, while Max was
putting his coat on.
‘I’m walking the dog,’ he said curtly to TammyLee, and clipped the lead onto Amber’s collar.
‘Fine,’ said TammyLee, and, once he’d gone out of the door, she muttered, ‘And don’t come back. I don’t care if you never come back.’
I needed a wash and a long sleep. But TammyLee needed me more. She carried me upstairs, and we checked Diana, who was asleep, her face tranquil, her skin pale in the dim blue of a night
light.
‘Tallulah’s back, Mum,’ TammyLee whispered, but Diana didn’t stir. ‘She’s on heavy medication.’ TammyLee closed the door quietly and took me into her
bedroom, where she kicked off her shoes and slumped onto her bed, burrowing into a mound of cushions. I stood on her chest, purring, and looked at her tormented eyes.
‘I’d DIE without you, Tallulah,’ she said, smoothing my coat with both hands. ‘You’re all I’ve got. And you know about Rocky.’
I did a purr-meow, to show her I understood.
‘I went to Rocky’s Bench after school today,’ she said. ‘It’s his birthday. My baby’s birthday. And I’m not there for him.’ She cried and cried
into my fur, and I lay still and listened. ‘Why did I do it, Tallulah? Why was I such a coward? What will Rocky think when he grows up, wherever he is? What will he think about his real mum
dumping him like rubbish? I wish I could tell him why. I wish I could tell him that I loved him. I can’t bear to think he might grow up and never know that.’ She sobbed into the
cushions. Then she said something that worried me a lot: ‘I want to die, Tallulah. I just . . . want . . . to die.’
I felt powerless. What could one small tabby cat do, faced with a suicidal human? I patted her wet cheek with my paw, and thought maybe if I washed her face, she might feel better. So I started
licking, tasting salt and make-up, licking gently round each of her eyes and calming the frown lines between them. And it worked! After a few minutes of it, she was smiling and looking at me
again.
‘Magic puss cat,’ she said, and then she did something beautiful: she took my little black cat brush out of its drawer and began to groom my fur. I loved it, and it was just what I
needed. I rolled onto my back and let her brush under my chin and down my belly. The brushing, and the appreciative purring, seemed to soothe TammyLee.
‘Look at this fluff, Tallulah!’ she said, showing me the wad of fur she was pulling out of the brush. She put it in a plastic bag. ‘I’m saving your fur and one day
I’m going to make something with it, a heart-shaped cushion, or a cushion that looks like a cat’s face.’ She said, ‘Then I can keep you for ever, Tallulah.’
I stayed in her bedroom, thinking I’d better keep an eye on her. Instead of sleeping, I sat on the table next to her laptop, and watched her begin her homework, sighing as she ticked boxes
and looked intently at the computer screen. We heard Max coming in with Amber, and he came slowly up the stairs and tapped on TammyLee’s door.
She rolled her eyes.
‘What?’ she asked, without looking up from her work.
‘Can we have a chat?’ Max looked different after his walk with Amber. His cheeks were red and his eyes brighter.
‘No, Dad. I’m really tired right now. And I’ve got homework.’
Max hovered in the doorway.
‘I hoped we could make peace, and . . . move on,’ he said.
‘Yeah, yeah, Dad.’
‘I do appreciate what you do for your mum,’ said Max quietly. ‘I know it’s not easy for you, but, for what it’s worth, TammyLee, I do love you. At the end of the
day, I do. And I do care about your future.’
Finally, TammyLee looked at him.
‘Yeah, yeah,’ she said again. ‘I know you care and stuff, Dad. Look, I’ve got an exam tomorrow and I need to do this homework. Will you leave me alone . . .
PLEASE?’
Max looked upset and bewildered. TammyLee sighed. She got up and gave her dad a hug. ‘It’s OK, Dad. I’m sorry I sounded off at you. But please . . . go and watch the news or
something.’
I meowed at Max and he had the sense to back off and go downstairs.
‘If it wasn’t for you, Tallulah, I’d go mad,’ said TammyLee.
‘Probably true,’ I thought, and sat patiently by her laptop, pretending to doze.
‘You’re SUCH a good cat,’ she said, and that made me feel better, especially when my angel drifted into the room and hung around by the bookshelves, shimmering with joy.
‘You’ve done a brilliant job today, Tallulah,’ she said, and I basked in the encouragement. Then she said, ‘Thank you,’ and covered me in stardust. My fur tingled
with joy. It was the first time on this planet that someone had said thank you to me.
That weekend, I learned a lot more about the river.
Mid-morning, we set off in the hot sunshine, with Max pushing Diana’s wheelchair and TammyLee in front leading Amber. A bag bulging with towels and picnic stuff was stashed in the pouch at
the back of the wheelchair, and TammyLee had even put in a sachet of my favourite chicken-and-rabbit cat food, and some biscuits for Amber.
‘I don’t think you should let Tallulah come,’ Max had said. ‘We should shut her in.’