Solomon’s Tale. Sheila Jeffries

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       ANOTHER CAT GOT THERE FIRST

      After a horrible bath, a long drink of milk and a good night’s sleep, I was feeling more positive. Especially when I awoke to find myself lying on the amber velvet cushion.

      ‘Cats always love this cushion,’ Ellen had said, putting me on it so gently after she had dried me with a fluffy towel. ‘It belonged to my mum. You go to sleep little cat, and in the morning we’ll find out who you belong to.’

      But first, there was Jessica.

      Jessica was the naughtiest cat I’d ever met. She was black and white, silky and cute with pink pads which she enjoyed flaunting, making out she was washing them. But when I saw her challenging buttercup eyes, I fell in love with her instantly. I felt intimidated by her, and a bit jealous; I could sense that she was tough and powerful, but she was gorgeous too, and I wanted her to be my friend. I could see that behind Jessica’s confident exterior was a charming little cat who wanted to be loved. Already my mind was planning how to befriend her. I wanted to curl up with her in her basket, and feel her sleek warm body against mine. But I was still a kitten, and right now I longed to be allowed to play with her. Being bossed around by Jessica would be hard, but give me six months and I’d be the boss, and, hopefully, her lover.

      ‘You wretched cat. GET OUT!’

      What a shock. Could that really be Ellen’s sweet soft voice shrieking like that? At me? Kittens can move even faster than cats, and I shot straight under the piano, despite being mid-yawn.

      I stayed under the piano and watched the commotion as Ellen evicted Jessica and cleaned up the mess she had made in bringing a dead bird through the cat flap. This was the first of many such episodes. Jessica was outrageous. She tore up carpets, shredded furniture, and bolted her food, especially if she’d stolen it. And if she was shut outside she would rap imperiously on the window, and glare with square eyes until she was let in. Worst of all, she scratched Ellen’s young son John and made him cry, and the crying started Ellen worrying. Then Ellen’s worrying sent Joe into a temper.

      On that first morning I felt clean and optimistic. This was my old home where I’d shared Ellen’s childhood. My desire to see the stairs was overwhelming and I longed for Ellen to open the door into the hall. Persuading humans to open doors is achieved by sitting elegantly close to the door with your chin tilted up. Keep gazing at the handle and eventually they will get the message. It’s telepathy at its most basic.

      ‘He wants to explore.’

      Joe opened the door for me. He obviously liked cats.

      Walking into the hall was breathtaking. I remembered the fun we’d had in this lovely house. Those incredible stairs were still there, and they were perfect. To a kitten born in a bungalow, stairs were the ultimate in dry cat gymnasiums and power perches. The best spot was the post halfway up where the stairs turned left. From here you could see out of the landing window, sunbathe, and get attention from whoever came up or down. The scent told me that Jessica had already claimed it, and I soon discovered how cheekily she sat there, reaching out a draconian paw to swipe anyone who failed to acknowledge her as they passed by.

      Jessica didn’t want to share the stairs with me at first, but she couldn’t resist showing off, streaking upstairs like a rocket. There she liked to lie in wait for me with her chin on the carpet and do a star-shaped pounce at me which was scary. The adrenalin was addictive. As I settled into my new home, Jessica and I would spend wild evenings pelting up and down stairs with flat ears and loopy tails, our flying paws thundering on the carpet. ‘Mummy, LOOK!’ John squealed when we started chasing each other up and down, making all three of them laugh at us, until the house was full of flying cats and giggling.

      The happiness filled the walls with diamond stars and, when we finally slept, the house hummed contentedly. ‘It’s just the fridge humming,’ Jessica said, but I knew it wasn’t. Jessica was a switched-off adult cat. She had disapproving whiskers. I was young and still attuned to the spirit world. Happiness was definitely a cloud of singing stars, an energy you could generate.

      As much as I loved my new home, naturally I was jealous of Jessica. Day and night my brain echoed with the thought, I am Ellen’s cat. Not you. It’s all wrong. Being an advanced cat, I tried to stay cool, but it hurt.

      Seeing Jessica on Ellen’s lap was almost more than I could bear. One day, whilst Jessica was curled up on her knee, I sat on the floor and stared at Ellen, feeling jealous and lonely. Her eyes shone back at me thoughtfully, and she reached down and lifted me up onto her shoulder.

      ‘Are you a jealous little cat?’ she crooned. ‘There’s no need to be, darling. I love you to bits and I hope you can stay with us.’

      I heard Jessica growl, but Ellen just stroked her until she was quiet again.

      ‘You’re very beautiful,’ whispered Ellen, looking at me. ‘And you’re like the cat I had when I was a child. Don’t you worry, you little sweetheart, I’m СКАЧАТЬ