Authors: Marian Babson
To Catch a Cat (6 page)
By the time Robin edged open the front door and slipped into the hallway, the exhilaration had worn off and he was beginning to wonder what he had done.
The angry voices in the kitchen did nothing to reassure him. Auntie Mags and Joshua were fighting again. As usual, the radio babbled in the background. Joshua turned it on the moment he got up and left it on all day, switching from station to station, complaining about the other presenters, arguing back to it, almost treating it like another person in the house. Robin wondered how Mags stood it, or perhaps she just didn't hear it any more. It got on his own nerves sometimes, but he could always go to his room.
He started up the stairs now, avoiding the third step from the bottom which creaked loudly when trodden on. He had
taken longer than he had expected at the library and then talking to Jamie. Too long? Maybe Mags had gone looking to see if he'd returned yet and discovered the cat. Was that what they were fighting about? He paused at the top of the stairs to listen.
taken longer than he had expected at the library and then talking to Jamie. Too long? Maybe Mags had gone looking to see if he'd returned yet and discovered the cat. Was that what they were fighting about? He paused at the top of the stairs to listen.
â ⦠meals. He knows what time we eat. I won't have him treating this place like a hotel.'
âGod! You sound just like Mummy!'
âDo I? Great! Why can't you think of something more original to say?'
âWhy can't you? I'm not supposed to be the big hot-shot shock-jock. No wonder you can't do any better than this boring town with its third-rate local radio â '
Nothing new. Robin turned and trudged along the hallway to his room, wondering why Mags and Josh bothered to stay together. Nobody else would have them, maybe â and they knew it. Unlike his parents, who had spoken to each other with icily increasing politeness until that last day when more suitcases than usual were stacked by the front door awaiting the taxi that was to take his father to the airport to fly off to yet another engineering job in some far-flung country.
The familiar bleak chill settled over him and he tried to thrust the memories away. It was almost one o'clock. He'd have a quick wash, feed Leif the tin of catfood he'd bought at the supermarket and go downstairs to lunch. Then maybe Josh would stop picking on Mags. She didn't deserve it, she was doing her best. And what Josh said wasn't even true: he didn't know what time they ate. It changed all the time, according to the shift Josh was doing at the radio station.
He looked over his shoulder before opening his door just wide enough to slide into the room. He needn't have worried. The others were still downstairs and the cat, far from trying to get away, was nowhere in sight.
He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, looking around slowly, his initial relief giving way to unease.
âLeif â¦?' he called softly. âLeif ⦠are you still there?' The little mound he had left under the coverlet looked suspiciously flat. âLeif â¦? Eriksson â¦?'
No response. He advanced into the room cautiously and stooped to look under the bed. Nothing there but dust. Auntie Mags wasn't very much for housework. Or maybe he was supposed to do it. Did sweeping and dusting come under Josh's ultimatum to take care of his own room?
He straightened up and reached for the coverlet. Maybe the cat had just changed position, so that the bedclothes looked flat. He lifted the quilt gingerly, not wanting to startle Leif.
Leif wasn't there.
âWhere are you?' He fought down a rising panic. He was sure he'd shut the door when he left. The window wasn't open. So where was Leif? He had to be here somewhere.
Maybe ⦠Robin's stomach lurched. Maybe he'd been really hurt and had been getting worse and worse. Maybe he'd crawled off into some corner to die.
No. No ⦠there were little piles of fluffy dust in three corners of the room and a larger, darker pile of his discarded socks in the fourth, but no cat. Besides, the milk saucer was empty, so Leif must have awakened after his nap and finished the milk. If he could do that, maybe he wasn't so sick, after all?
The books ought to be able to tell him. Reminded, Robin snatched off his backpack and pulled out one of the books, riffling its pages urgently. Nothing useful there. He tossed it aside and pulled out another. Why did he have to be so stupid? He'd chosen the wrong books. These were no help at all. The third featured long chapters about talking to animals, but the conversations suggested bore no relation to anything he needed to know.
He clenched his fists and slammed them down on the mattress in frustration. âHell!' It wasn't the worst word he knew, but it was the worst he dared to say out loud. âHell!'
There was an answering explosive sound and the cat shot out from underneath the pillow, bounded across the room until it came to the closed door and crouched there, looking around wildly and trembling.
âYou were under the pillow!' Robin looked at the pillow,
which was propped up against the headboard, forming a little secret cave. Clever Leif had discovered it.
which was propped up against the headboard, forming a little secret cave. Clever Leif had discovered it.
âYou are one smart cat,' he told Leif admiringly.
The cat stared around the room with unhappy eyes, shivering visibly, unsure of its surroundings. Then it looked straight at Robin and emitted a faint mewl of distress.
âYou're scared!' Robin realised. âI hit the bed with my fists and it frightened you. It must have made you remember â ' Remember the violence it had witnessed, the blows rained on its mistress. That was why the cat was staring around the room so frantically, it was searching for the woman it had loved and would never see again. And you couldn't explain that to a cat.
âI'm sorry,' Robin said gently. âI didn't mean to scare you. Come over here and take it easy. I've brought you something to eat. Come on â¦' He wriggled his fingers enticingly. âCome along â¦'
The eyes that met his own were calmer, but still unhappy. They eyed Robin doubtfully, as though weighing up the possible consequences of trusting him.
âYou know me,' Robin coaxed. âDon't you remember? I got you out of that house when Mr Nordling was going to kill you next â ' He broke off abruptly. Putting it into words, saying them out loud, suddenly brought the nightmare home, right into the room with him. He felt as though a blast of icy air had swept through the bedroom and shuddered abruptly. He bit back something perilously close to a whimper.
The cat crept forward, slowly, cautiously, eyes fixed upon Robin intently.
âHe did it,' Robin whispered. âHe really did it, didn't he? And nobody would believe me, if I told them. Would they? I'd only get into terrible trouble because I should never have been in that house in the first place. And I'd gone in to steal you. They could send me to jail for that.'
â
Mewrrmm
,' the cat agreed sympathetically. It sat at his feet, looking up at him. They had been through a lot together, in a short space of time. The cat seemed to be remembering
that now. It stretched out its neck and rubbed its muzzle against Robin's ankle. â
Mewrrmmm
â¦'
Mewrrmm
,' the cat agreed sympathetically. It sat at his feet, looking up at him. They had been through a lot together, in a short space of time. The cat seemed to be remembering
that now. It stretched out its neck and rubbed its muzzle against Robin's ankle. â
Mewrrmmm
â¦'
âGood boy.' Robin reached down and rubbed the soft fur between its ears. âGood cat.'
â
Mrreeeoow?
' The cat twisted its head to direct his attention behind one ear.
Mrreeeoow?
' The cat twisted its head to direct his attention behind one ear.
âMaybe she isn't really dead.' He scratched the ear absently, trying to convince himself. âI never got a chance to take her pulse, or anything. I didn't even get a good close look â¦' But there had been all that blood. Could someone lose that much blood and still be alive?
â
Ro-o-o-bi-i-in
â¦' His aunt's shrill cry made him jump. The cat also jumped, then disappeared under the bed. â
Rooo-bin
!'
Ro-o-o-bi-i-in
â¦' His aunt's shrill cry made him jump. The cat also jumped, then disappeared under the bed. â
Rooo-bin
!'
He leaped to his feet. It took him a moment to realise that the voice was not immediately outside the bedroom door, but some distance away. He went over to the door and opened it.
No. Mags wasn't in the hallway; he heard her call again. He stepped outside, closing the door carefully behind him, advanced to the top of the staircase and stood looking down.
Mags had the front door open. She was standing in the doorway, looking up and down the street. She opened her mouth to call again.
âHere I am,' Robin said. âWhat is it?'
âOh!' Mags whirled around, startled. âThere you are! I didn't know you were home.'
âI told you not to worry about him.' Josh appeared in the lower hallway.
âHow long have you been back?' Mags glared up at him accusingly. âI didn't hear you come in.'
âAges,' Robin said quickly. âI've been back a long time. I didn't want to bother you.'
Josh gave a sharp sardonic bark of laughter and went back into the living-room. Mags closed the front door and leaned against it limply.
âI'm not cut out for this,' she muttered. âMaybe, if it was my own kid and I'd had the training of it from the beginning â¦'
Robin judged it was time to come downstairs and start appearing alert and helpful. âWhat's the matter?'
âIt's time to eat, that's what's the matter.' Mags straightened up and spoke briskly. âHave you washed your hands?' She heard the echo of her mother in her own voice and frowned.
âNever mind, you're not going to eat with your bare hands. Just come along. I want to be sure Josh gets a good meal before he goes to work.' She led the way into the cramped dining-room. Josh was already in there, sitting at the table, his transistor beside his plate.
âJosh â ?'
âShut up!' He made a sideways slashing movement with one hand, all his attention centred on the radio.
â ⦠discovered his wife's body early this morning when he returned from a business trip â¦'
âJosh, what is it?' Mags moved forward to stand beside him, not noticing that Robin was frozen in the doorway.
Josh made the impatient slashing movement again, not looking at her. He leaned closer to the transistor, his eyes glittering.
â ⦠in the course of a burglary. Antiques and jewellery to an estimated value of two hundred thousand pounds were taken. The husband is under sedation â¦'
âWho?' Mags mouthed silently, pulling out a chair and sinking into it. It might be someone they knew, the way Josh was acting. For a moment, she thought of her parents' comfortable home and her heart constricted. But, no, the newscaster had mentioned a husband and Mummy had been a widow for nearly five years now.
So ⦠who?
âThe Prime Minister announced today â¦' The newscaster's voice changed subtly, becoming more businesslike. The previous item was finished â for the time being â and more mundane matters were on the docket.
âNot
who
, but
where.
' Josh turned away from the transistor to face Mags. âRight here in River City! That was the first
report. The nationals will have it in the morning. They'll come swarming down here like wasps around a honeypot.'
who
, but
where.
' Josh turned away from the transistor to face Mags. âRight here in River City! That was the first
report. The nationals will have it in the morning. They'll come swarming down here like wasps around a honeypot.'
âSo?' Mags had a dreadful feeling she already knew the answer to that âSo?' She could almost see the ambition coursing through Josh's veins like blood. His gaze was turned inwards, his fingers drummed on the table top. He hadn't even heard her question ⦠her coded protest.
âRobin â ' She shifted her attention to someone more responsive.
âDon't just stand there in the doorway, come and sit down.' She looked at him sharply. He looked awfully pale suddenly and seemed to have shrunk in on himself.
âAre you all right?' A cold chill swept over her. All she needed was for the kid to be sick.
âI'm all right,' he said unconvincingly. He moved forward slowly, hunched over like an old man, not meeting her eyes.
Mags was at his side in an instant, her hand on his forehead. No, there didn't seem to be any fever. If anything, his forehead was cold and rather damp. She stepped back and surveyed him uneasily.
âYou're sure you're all right? You're not coming down with the flu or ⦠something?' The something didn't bear thinking about. There were all these terrible and sudden outbreaks of meningitis in schoolchildren who had been fine one minute and then the next â
If anything happened to Robin, what would she do? How could she ever face Eva or his father again?
âYou'd better not be.' Josh snapped to attention and glared at Robin menacingly, as though he could throw any ailment into retreat by the sheer force of his disapproval.
Oh, fine. That was all she needed. Scare the poor kid to death, that would do a lot of good. You're a great help, Josh.
âI'm not.' Robin slipped into his chair, unaware that his blood had drained out of his face, leaving him white as a ghost. Josh's veiled threat had gone unnoticed. He had more to worry about than Josh's posturing.
He had two hundred thousand pounds to worry about.
They'd blame him for stealing all those things if they ever found out that he was the one who'd been in the Nordling's house. And how could he prove he hadn't?
They'd blame him for stealing all those things if they ever found out that he was the one who'd been in the Nordling's house. And how could he prove he hadn't?
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