Copycat (12 page)

The fox continued to lie low until all the people had returned to the pub lounge. Then the battered creature had a most unexpected piece of luck. With Pinkie removed from their cage the lop-ears had calmed down and now one of them discovered the gap underneath the wire for itself. It wriggled through and, all alarms forgotten, began to hop confidently about the garden. The other rabbit wasn’t slow to follow. The fox didn’t stir but his old eyes were almost popping out of his head. The rabbits knew nothing about his presence in the shadows and moved around without caution. Eventually one of them skipped too close to the drooling fox. The ancient hunter just had enough strength and technique remaining to him to grab this chance. He fell on the rabbit and with his few surviving teeth scored his first major kill for ages. The other rabbit, of course, bolted, but the fox wasn’t bothered. He half carried, half dragged his prey away to a more secluded spot where he wasted no time in devouring it down to the bone. ‘What a turn-up,’ he chuckled to himself. ‘Everything comes to those who wait.’ And, with the other rabbit loose, he had some hopes of coming across that, too, before long.

The landlord of The White Cat was too upset about Snowy just then to take much heed of Pinkie. But he allowed the woman who had rescued her to put her in Snowy’s cat basket after his wife had bathed Pinkie’s wounds a little. No one in the pub had any idea to whom the strange white cat belonged, nor where she had come from. People came to the conclusion that she had been abandoned or that she was a stray. The upshot was that the landlord’s wife put a call through to the local animal home, who said they would send an officer to collect the invalid. Pinkie was shut in a room on her own to await her fate.

She had been frantic at first at the turn of events. Gradually, though, the obvious concern and kindness of her rescuer, who had a wonderfully soothing voice, helped to quieten her down. Her ordeal had tired her out and that and the warmth of the room eventually sent her to sleep. The landlord’s wife put some milk and pet food down near Pinkie’s basket. Doing this comforted her a little for the loss of her own cat. She and her husband had to keep Pinkie safe for the night since she wouldn’t be picked up until the morning. Then, initially, she would be cared for in the animal home. So it seemed that Pinkie’s separation from Sammy was to become permanent.

The tabby continued to rule the roost in Monty’s sitting-room and garden. Domino didn’t enter this territory again, to say nothing of Ling or Spike. Only the Church Cat dared to do so, but by now Sammy was so content with his pet-like appearance and behaviour that he didn’t have much need of her. He still admired Hermione enormously and when she was around no thought of Pinkie ever entered his head. But at other times he fell to wondering about his one-time mate, even hoping that she would perhaps come to look for him. Provided, of course, that she had cleaned herself up first.

Monty the black cat was becoming increasingly fed up. Despite the fact that Sammy had kept his promise and deterred other cats from stealing Monty’s food, the tabby had grown greedier and more dominating with every day that passed. Monty yearned for his owners to return and set him free from this peculiar sort of bondage. The girl never seemed to suspect anything unusual was going on. She never saw Sammy indoors or outdoors, but continued to increase the amount of food provided because of Sammy’s appetite, as though Monty had somehow doubled himself.

Sammy preened, ate, purred satisfaction, slept and groomed himself again. He didn’t appear to give any thought to the fact that his occupation of Monty’s home was temporary and that one day there would be a rude awakening for him. In the end Monty couldn’t bear it any longer and brought the subject up himself.

‘What will you do when the master and mistress come back?’

Sammy yawned widely. He had just eaten his fill and he felt content and sleepy. ‘Oh well,’ he said, ‘I’ll face that when it happens. No point in thinking about it at the moment, is there?’

‘I wish you would think about it,’ Monty replied. ‘This arrangement will have to come to an end soon. And then where will you go?’

‘Perhaps I’ll take up residence with Domino,’ Sammy answered flippantly. ‘What does it matter to you, anyway?’

Monty glowered but said no more. He couldn’t himself shift Sammy and could only grit his teeth.

And then one day something happened which did change the state of affairs. Sammy was lying in the garden for once. Monty was roaming elsewhere. The constant presence of the tabby was so irksome to the black cat that he would leave his home area for a while just to get away from Sammy. Sammy had eaten particularly well that morning. In fact he had demolished the entire contents of Monty’s bowl. Monty hadn’t felt hungry. He was slightly off-colour and Sammy had made the most of it. Now he was sleeping it off.

A sudden shower of rain woke him up and he trotted to the cat-flap. He put his head through and his front legs and then, with his body half in and half out of the little door, he stuck fast. Sammy had finally grown so fat that the cat-flap was too narrow for him. The tabby strained and heaved but hardly managed to move a jot. Indeed he seemed to become even more firmly wedged. The rain brought Monty running for shelter too. He soon found Sammy barring his way.

‘Hurry up,’ he urged the tabby. ‘I’m getting wet here.’

‘I . . . can’t,’ Sammy gasped. ‘I’m stuck. I can’t move.’

‘Oh, so this is what you’ve brought yourself to,’ Monty said angrily. ‘The way you’ve eaten and eaten . . . enough for two cats. Well, you can’t stay there. You’ll have to back out. You’re stopping me from entering my own home.’

‘I know, I know. I’m sorry.’ Sammy had the grace to apologize. ‘But I can’t go forwards or backwards!’ – Monty was livid. This greedy animal who had battened on him and scoffed his food was now denying him shelter too. ‘The girl will find you here,’ he reminded Sammy. ‘What then?’

‘
Oh
!’ the tabby wailed, wriggling hopelessly. ‘Monty, please give me a push or a nudge or something. This
hurts
.’

‘It serves you right,’ said Monty, who had suddenly become much more courageous now that Sammy was at a disadvantage. ‘But no, I won’t push. You must try to back out. Otherwise you’ll be indoors for good.’

Sammy understood the reasoning but he simply couldn’t reverse, try as he might. At last Monty, who was getting wetter and wetter, decided it was better Sammy should be trapped in the house rather than in his cat-flap. With some malice he lowered his head and butted Sammy hard in the rear. Sammy howled but his body was jolted forward. He heaved and tugged once more and at last freed himself with a jerk, like a cork coming out of a bottle.

Monty leapt after him. ‘This is a fine affair,’ the black cat complained as he watched Sammy trying to lick his aching sides. ‘You’ll be discovered now for sure.’

‘Maybe not,’ Sammy answered, though he didn’t feel very confident. ‘I can still hide, can’t I?’

‘There are some things you can’t hide,’ Monty retorted. ‘And if you can’t get into the garden . . .’

Sammy understood. Monty had no cat litter. He looked glumly at the black cat.

‘What can’t be buried will be found,’ Monty said unnecessarily.

‘That’s true,’ Sammy admitted. Then he suddenly gave Monty a large grin. ‘But the girl would be bound to suspect you. She knows nothing about me and so it’ll be you who’ll be punished!’

Monty blinked. He hadn’t thought of that. Then he became very angry. Suddenly he wasn’t scared of Sammy any more. ‘You mean you . . . you would actually let me take the blame? Let me suffer . . . after all you’ve had from me?’ he shrilled.

‘I wouldn’t choose to, but it’s unavoidable, isn’t it?’ Sammy replied airily. ‘If I reveal myself to the young human, I’ll be booted out at once. Why should I risk that?’

Monty was speechless.

‘But really,’ Sammy went on, ‘I don’t want you to get into trouble. I can hold on. And I won’t eat any more today
or
tomorrow. Then maybe I’ll be able to get through your door again.’

Monty calmed down. ‘I hope you’re right,’ he muttered. ‘And now you’d better find somewhere to hide. Upstairs.’

‘Show me,’ Sammy said. He’d never been upstairs before.

Monty led him to the stairs. ‘Follow me,’ he called behind him. They ran up and Monty went into a small bedroom at the end of the landing. ‘Stay in here,’ he told Sammy. ‘The girl won’t know you’re around. For a while, anyway,’ he added. ‘If she comes anywhere near, you can get out of sight under the bed.’

‘All right,’ Sammy grunted. ‘But when she’s gone I shan’t hang around. I’ll come down and join you. There’s no water up here, is there?’

‘Of course not. There’s only the bowl in the kitchen.’ Monty thought for a few moments. ‘You can come down for a drink, but you’ll have to return here afterwards. In case of accidents,’ he stressed.

‘Very well,’ said Sammy.

When the girl arrived in the evening Sammy was well out of sight and listening carefully. She wasn’t in the house long. Monty looked gloomily at the pile of meat in his bowl. He had very little appetite. He ate a small amount, then went to his bed. During the night Sammy came for some water. Monty was sleeping. Luckily Sammy wasn’t feeling hungry, since he had been so greedy earlier, so he was able to ignore the food-bowl.

Next morning the girl was surprised to find some meat remaining – in fact the greater portion of the recent meal. This hadn’t happened before. She wondered if Monty was quite well, but decided he looked healthy enough, and so left the meat as it was, without adding to it. By the evening of that day the meat was dried up and stale. Monty had eaten no more and Sammy was fighting his stomach’s demands to be filled. The girl now realized something was wrong. She telephoned Monty’s owners at their holiday address and explained the situation. They asked her if she could get Monty to Donald Fairhurst, the local vet, to be examined. The girl agreed and arranged to telephone again with his verdict.

During that night Sammy’s hunger could no longer be denied. Stale food or not, he had to have it. He had become so used to eating regularly that the food languishing in Monty’s bowl became more important to him than the difficulty of getting through Monty’s door. He began to eat and Monty made no attempt to stop him. Immediately after he had cleared the bowl, Sammy remembered the cat-flap.

‘Well, I haven’t eaten
that
much,’ he muttered to himself with some feeling of guilt. ‘I’d better try to get out anyway.’ He pushed his head through the cat flap and slowly, very slowly, eased his body through. Just as before, at the halfway point he stuck. His sides were still sore from his last effort and it was too painful for him to wriggle or squeeze. He tried backing, with the same result. ‘Oh, why did I do this?’ he wailed. ‘I didn’t have to try
now
. I was better off indoors. Monty! Help me!’

Monty was in no position to help. He was feeling very unwell and lay listlessly on his bed. He had no intention of going to Sammy’s rescue this time.

‘Monty!
Monty!
Please!’ Sammy pleaded frantically. ‘I’m stuck fast and I’m in real trouble!’

Monty recalled Sammy’s attitude about
his
getting into trouble and answered feebly, ‘You deserve to be. Your greed has caught up with you. The girl will release you in the morning.’

Sammy was aghast. He couldn’t allow that to happen. It would mean a return to scavenging, living in the open and all that that would entail. He thought of Pinkie and her disreputable appearance. How long would his beautiful clean coat and pet’s manners last if he were forced to join her again? ‘I must bear the pain,’ he told himself. ‘I’ve got to get free.’ He braced his front legs and strained. A long agonized miaow pierced the darkness. ‘
Ooouw!
’ His body hardly moved a fraction. Sammy let his head drop. ‘No, it’s no good,’ he moaned. The narrow opening held him like a vice. And that was where the girl found him in the morning.

—16—

Freed

The girl didn’t notice Sammy straight away. Her first concern was for Monty, who hadn’t moved from his bed in the kitchen.

‘Poor Monty,’ the girl said, stroking him compassionately. ‘You don’t look right at all. I must phone the vet now and see if he can have a look at you today, even though it’s Sunday.’

Luckily the vet was a family friend and agreed to her request. Monty didn’t even raise his head. But in the sitting-room Sammy tensed, a prisoner waiting for his punishment. The girl was about to leave the house, with Monty in his basket, when she suddenly remembered the food-bowl. She thought she had better clear it up then in case the vet kept Monty at the surgery for a while. She set the basket down in the hall and went to the sitting-room, where she saw Sammy’s hindquarters and tail protruding from the cat flap.

‘What’s this? Shoo!’ she cried, clapping her hands. Sammy, trembling like a leaf, didn’t budge. ‘Shoo, I say! Off you go!’ the girl shouted. Then she spied the food-bowl. ‘Oh, so that’s it. Stealing food!’ She marched up to the tabby and gave his rear end the most gentle of nudges with her foot. Sammy hardly moved, but he howled. Now the girl understood the problem.

‘You’re caught in there, are you? Well, that’s a just reward for thieving. I don’t recognize you at all. Whose pet are you, I wonder?’ She bent down and tried to push Sammy on his way. ‘Plump chap, aren’t you?’ she commented. Then the girl put a hand either side of the tabby’s body and pushed gently inwards. It gave Sammy just that tiny bit more room for manoeuvre and it made all the difference. He heaved himself clear with another howl of pain and raced off down the garden.

The girl watched him go and suddenly an idea struck her. Was this animal the reason for Monty’s illness? Had it been visiting regularly and robbing the black cat of his food? Was poor weak Monty half starved? She hurried back to the hall, snatched up the cat basket and rushed off to her appointment at the vet’s, worried to death that she had been negligent of her charge.

Sammy, stiff and sore, but relieved to have escaped from his prison, was at a loss to know where to go next. He thought again of Pinkie and then he thought of Hermione. And, because he didn’t know where Pinkie was, but he did know where to find the Church Cat, he set off for the vicarage.