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Authors: Sheila Jeffries

BOOK: Solomon's Kitten
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Eventually, she got up and tenderly put me on the chair.

‘I’ll be back to see you, my luvvy. We’ll have lots of cuddles,’ she said, but I jumped down and followed her to the gate, meowing as she gently pushed me back and closed
it tightly.

Horrified, I ran round and round the pen, calling and meowing. Surely, I wasn’t a prisoner! I was Tallulah. I had a right to enjoy the world, to charge across lawns with my tail streaming,
to scale trees and hang from branches, to dive under bushes and pounce on people’s feet. These humans who looked after me so well had taken from me what I most treasured – my
freedom!

And how would I ever find TammyLee?

I sat by the gate, my nose to the crack where it would open, and then I waited, planning the speed of my escape, how fast I would dart out when it was opened. I looked out at the garden beyond,
and the road winding away beside the river, and planned my escape route. I’d follow the river back into town, back to the bridge where TammyLee had left Rocky. She’d go back there,
eventually, I was sure.

When Penny came back with a dish of food for me, I did slip past her ankles and out of the gate, only to find she had cleverly shut the first gate and I was still trapped. Distraught, I gazed up
at Penny with my golden eyes and meowed piteously.

‘Aw, you poor darling.’ She picked me up but I wriggled out of her arms and ran to the gate. Penny came after me, stroking and talking to me in a lovely voice, letting me smell the
delicious meat she had brought me. But I didn’t want anything except my freedom. The need for it burned inside me, and I tried to convey it to Penny. She understood me, but she didn’t
do what I wanted. She didn’t let me out.

Night came, and I was still distraught. I ran round and round. I climbed the high wire fence in every place, searching, hoping for a hole to escape through. But it was rigid. I meowed and
zigzagged around until my paws were sore and so was my throat. By dawn, I was exhausted and crept into the warm bed, curled up and slept until mid-morning.

As soon as I heard Penny’s voice, I tumbled out, in such a hurry to get to her and beg her to let me go. Please, please let me go.

Penny was in the next-door pen, cuddling and fussing a rather portly black tomcat who had watched me through the wire with a disapproving stare. He looked contented, and so did the ginger tomcat
on the other side who was tucking into a juicy looking breakfast. I sniffed at my uneaten supper, which had gone dry and had flies buzzing round it. I ate a little bit, then jumped up to the higher
perch to feel the sun on my fur and see the mountains.

It seemed a good time to wash.

Washing is a sort of ritual that stabilises cats. For me, it had become a time to think. I wanted Penny to explain to me why I was shut in, and for how long. So I sent her the thought, and when
she did come into my pen, she sat down with me again. I stretched myself over her heart and reached up to pat her face with a long paw. I knew she loved cats, so why did she shut me in?

She looked at me thoughtfully, and I sent my question again with all the power of my golden eyes and another pat from my newly washed paw.

‘I know,’ she said. ‘It’s not much fun being shut in, is it, Tallulah?’

I encouraged her with a purr-meow and a kiss on the nose.

‘You’re a very beautiful and intelligent cat,’ she said, talking to my soul. ‘And someone will come and choose you – a good person who knows how to take care of a
cat. We make sure of that. We don’t let cats go to bad homes.’ Her hands were stroking my neck and rubbing behind my ears and under my chin. ‘It might be today,’ she said.
‘Or it might be tomorrow. Or it might be a long time, many dark nights. These two have been here for months, haven’t you, my luvvies?’ She pointed at the black cat and the ginger
one, who were both washing and listening. ‘But you’ve got to choose too, Tallulah. Don’t go with someone you don’t like.’

I stared at her, getting the firm tone, and the pictures she was sending me from her mind. Nice people coming to choose a cat. And I remembered. Gretel had chosen me. I’d been too small to
resist. But this time it would be different, I was determined. Even if the people were nice, I wouldn’t go with them if it felt wrong.

‘I’ll put you in the paper this week,’ said Penny, and she took a photo of me with a silver camera, and showed it to me on a screen. I looked like the teeniest fairy of a cat
in there, but I purred and touched noses with the image, and Penny laughed so loudly that the wire fences rattled and shook.

After that conversation, I settled down and accepted that I wouldn’t be in the pen for long. I made the best use of the space, playing a lot and climbing and keeping my claws sharp. Two
people came to see me the very next day, and I remembered Penny’s advice. It was a hard thing for me to do but I turned my back on them and went all huffy, climbing up to the top perch and
sitting there, washing. It worked.

‘She’s such a pretty cat, but I don’t think she wants to go with us,’ the lady said to Penny. I watched the ginger cat next to me, who was meowing loudly and scrabbling
at the bars, looking up at the two people adoringly.

‘He’s too old, really.’

‘And he’s a tomcat.’

‘But he loves you,’ said Penny. ‘Look at him, poor luvvy, he’s been in that pen all summer. And he’s got oodles of love to give.’

The ginger cat eventually got what he wanted. He made a fuss of the two people, and ran into the cat basket with his tail up. As they carried him away, he was kissing the bars and purring, and
his eyes danced at me joyfully. I felt so lonely.

It got harder and harder as the days rolled by, and other cats came and went in the pens next to me. It got harder every time I saw one being taken home with ‘nice people’. I wanted
my freedom. I didn’t want to get depressed again. No, I had come to this planet for a reason. I’d used up one of my nine lives and wasted my time with Gretel.

I seriously considered going with someone who wanted me, and then escaping, following the river back to TammyLee. My angel said no.

‘Wait,’ she kept telling me.

Penny told me she’d put my picture in the paper for a second time, and then something totally unexpected happened.

People didn’t normally come in the mornings, so I was dozing in the sun, stretched out in the chair. I was used to hearing Penny’s voice as she bustled around the cat pens, and I was
so sleepy and comfortable that I didn’t bother to open my eyes when I heard the click of the farm gate being opened.

Penny was patiently explaining something to someone who didn’t want to listen.

‘But I saw her in the paper. I know it’s the right cat.’

‘I understand that, my luvvy,’ Penny was saying. ‘But I can’t allow you to take her today.’

‘But why not? It’s a perfectly good home for a cat. We’ve got a big garden. I’ve looked after lots of cats.’

‘This is the Cat Protection League,’ insisted Penny. ‘And we don’t home any of our cats until we’ve inspected the home they’re going to.’

‘You sound like you don’t trust me.’

‘Well, I don’t know you, do I? I’m only doing my job, dear.’

‘I thought you wanted a home for this cat.’

‘Of course we do.’

‘So I’m not good enough. Is that it?’

‘I’m sure you are, dear. I just need to make sure – for the cat’s sake.’

‘I mean, what d’you think I’m gonna DO to her, for goodness’ sake?’

‘I’m sure you’ll be fine, dear – but please.’

‘Oh, yeah, yeah, I know.’ The voice was getting higher and higher, even though Penny was keeping calm. There was something in the girl’s voice that struck a chord in my memory.
I’d been running along the top of a wall on a moonlit night. So much had happened to me since that night. It was hard to remember.

The footsteps and voices were coming nearer, walking down the side of the house. Soon, they would be round the corner and coming to the cat pens.

‘Well, surely, I can at least LOOK at the cat,’ came the girl’s voice, and with it came a distinctive jingling sound that jogged my memory further. Bangles. An arm with gold
and silver bangles on it.

By now, I was wide awake and sitting up in the chair. Penny knew I usually turned my back on people, not because I was rude, but because they weren’t the right people for me. But this girl
who was arguing so loudly with Penny – could it be . . . could it be HER?

I tensed expectantly as they came round the corner together. When I saw the girl’s aura of bright turquoise and lemon, I knew.

It was HER! My TammyLee!

I sailed down from the chair and ran across the pen with my tail flying like a plume. I flung myself at the fence and scrabbled with my paws, and meowed so loudly that it echoed off the stone
walls of the farm. I wasn’t going to make a mistake this time. My TammyLee had come for me. She’d found me. She wanted me.

I weaved from side to side as I waited for them to open the gates and come in.

‘Well, well, well!’ said Penny, and she reached down to pick me up, but I twisted away from her and stared up at TammyLee with my golden eyes.

She gasped, and held out her arms. I leaped straight up and she caught me, her bangles jingling and tinkling. She looked into my soul with eyes that were green as clover leaves. And then she
whispered to me:

‘Magic puss cat.’

I purred and purred, and kissed her beautiful face. I patted the gold bead in the side of her nose. I searched those green, green eyes, past the brightness, and saw that the deep pain of losing
Rocky was still there. It would be there for ever. But I was here now, and I was going to love her.

‘Well . . . I’m speechless,’ said Penny.

TammyLee gazed and gazed at me, and a smudgy-looking tear rolled down her face. I licked it from her cheek, which was like a pale piece of velvet.

‘It is you,’ she whispered to me. ‘I knew when I saw your photo in the paper. I knew it was you. Magic puss cat.’

I snuggled down in her arms and stretched my chin over her neck so that she could feel my purr vibrating through her. I wrapped my paw round the other side of her neck, hugging her like a human.
She started smiling, and two dimples appeared in her cheeks.

‘I’m speechless. Speechless,’ said Penny again.

‘Thank God for that,’ said TammyLee wickedly, and the two women smiled at each other.

‘Her name is Tallulah,’ said Penny.

‘Tallulah! That’s lovely. It’s like a song. Tallulah. I’ll sing it to you one day, magic puss cat.’

I cuddled deeper into TammyLee’s neck and throat, feeling as if I’d come home. I looked at Penny, and sent her a strong message. She got it.

‘Well, it looks as if Tallulah knows you. She’s certainly loving you,’ said Penny.

‘We do know each other. She used to run along the wall with me, in the moonlight, when . . .’ The sadness in TammyLee’s eyes rose to the surface, the deep ache of the mother
love, like my mother’s last look at me when we were ripped away from her. A forever pain.

‘Please, please don’t let anyone else have her,’ pleaded TammyLee, suddenly vulnerable now, not arguing, not being bolshy, just appealing to Penny. ‘Only I was going to
take her home today.’

TammyLee sent me a picture of a lovely home with a fire, and a wide back door that opened into a sunny room made of glass. Beyond the glass was a back garden with a weeping willow and a view of
the mountains. It was perfect. But Penny was looking serious and shaking her head.

‘I’m sorry, my luvvy, but I can’t let you take her.’

There was a silence. I clung tighter and purred harder round TammyLee’s neck. I watched her aura turning to cracked glass, the way it had been that night. Grief and anxiety manifesting as
anger. The anger flared through her like a bonfire, and I saw her looking at the gate. I saw she was thinking of making a run for it, with me in her arms.

‘I know how much you want her,’ said Penny kindly. ‘You can wait a couple of days, can’t you? Isn’t Tallulah worth waiting for?’

I patted TammyLee’s face and made her smile again as she fought against the anger.

‘I can come tomorrow and look at your home,’ Penny offered. ‘And if it’s OK, then I’ll bring Tallulah to you in my car. She’ll be safe, and I’d like to
see her settled in. And I’m sure you’d like to know more about her, wouldn’t you? She had a very nasty experience before she came here and you need to know about that, and know
what to do if she shows any symptoms.’

A rush of sympathy changed TammyLee’s defensive stance into softness and vulnerability. I sighed with relief as she said, ‘OK then, if that’s what it takes. So – can I
really, really have her?’

‘I hope so, my luvvy,’ said Penny warmly. ‘I do hope so.’

TammyLee put me down reluctantly and I wove myself around her legs as she and Penny went out through the two gates.

‘Bye for now, Tallulah.’ TammyLee looked down into my face. ‘Don’t look so anxious. I’ll see you soon, magic puss cat.’

I bounded up to the highest perch and saw her walking away down the farm track, getting smaller and smaller. She turned once to blow me a kiss and her bangles flashed in the sun. I watched her
get on the bus that came grinding up the hill every day, and I followed it with my eyes so that I would know which direction to take to find her, if I had to. The bus turned right, away from the
mountains, and headed along the road beside the river, the road that led into the town where I had lived with Gretel.

I ran round and round the pen, meowing, searching for an escape route. And again, I was distraught. TammyLee had come to find me, and Penny wouldn’t let her take me!

Learning to wait, learning to trust, was a hard lesson for me. The pen seemed to be getting smaller, and my panic was like a whirlwind, engulfing me. When it reached an unbearable intensity, I
noticed the black tomcat sitting close to his fence, watching me in concern. He meowed and reached out a paw to me. We touched noses through the fence, and it was the first time I’d
communicated with him. I’d dismissed him as a boring, fat, switched-off cat.

I sat still for a moment, to see if he would communicate, and he did, telepathically. First, he leaned his solid black body against the fence, so that I could feel his warmth, and encouraged me
with little purr-meows in his throat. We pressed against each other through the wire, and I sensed the words he was sending me.

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