The City Cats Read online

  A few minutes later Phoebe said, ‘Now I no longer know where we are.’ They had reached the north side of the river. She looked at Sammy uncertainly. ‘This is all new territory to me,’ she said. ‘I ought to get back to what I know.’

  ‘I’m grateful to you,’ Sammy said. ‘Maybe we’ll meet again?’

  ‘That’s unlikely,’ Phoebe countered. ‘You won’t be coming back to my part of the city.’

  ‘No. Well, I’m sorry we didn’t get to know each other better.’ There was something about this cat, rough and skinny as she was, that Sammy liked. And she had been of great help.

  ‘I’m sorry too,’ said Phoebe. They looked at each other a moment longer. ‘You’d better move to a quieter spot,’ she advised, ‘before the humans really get going.’

  Sammy looked around. Across the other side of the bridge was the Houses of Parliament, a huge edifice which he wanted to avoid. He made a right turn from the bridge, steering clear of the alarmingly complex crossroads and walked along the pavement on the river side of the Victoria Embankment. Opposite him was a patch of greenery which reminded him of the park and which seemed an oasis of tranquillity away from the network of roads. As soon as he thought it was safe, he didn’t hesitate. He sprinted across to it and found himself in a sort of garden. For some reason he turned. To his surprise there was Phoebe, still sitting where he had left her. She had been watching his progress and apparently was still considering whether she should join him.

  Sammy was not in a position to wait. He wanted to get under cover and, before this, to see to his empty stomach. The garden was just a patch of green in front of another large building. Sammy had seen sufficient buildings now to be careless of them. He was much more interested in a blackbird that was tugging at a worm in the lawn. It was very absorbed by its task. But it never did get the worm. Sammy pounced, and it was the cat that enjoyed a breakfast, not the bird.

  The tabby glanced about for a place to hide. He needed to be well and truly away from the grasp of human hands. He was not going to be tilted off course a third time by human intervention. But what course? How was he to find the canal now?

  ‘Some creature must know of the canal or the park,’ he told himself optimistically. He could find nowhere suitable for shelter nearby so he ran along, close to the bare plane trees of the embankment, searching all the while for a retreat. Every now and then he turned his head to see if Phoebe might, after all, have come after him. He was sure she wouldn’t have needed a lot of persuasion to do so. But he didn’t see her and, before long, he had found what he wanted and settled himself under an evergreen shrub in the Victoria Embankment Gardens. He was a little less hungry, and very tired. It had been an eventful few hours. He made himself comfortable and was soon enjoying a refreshing doze.

  Well on in the morning Sammy’s nap was interrupted by a squirrel which was busying itself unearthing buried nuts. The scratching of the animal’s claws on the soil all around where Sammy had chosen to sleep disturbed him. The cat yawned and watched the quick movements of the squirrel. The little creature seemed not in the least perturbed by the presence of an animal larger than itself.

  ‘Difficult finding food?’ the cat enquired lazily.

  ‘Always is in the winter months, especially when you can’t remember exactly where you hid your winter provisions,’ the squirrel answered without halting its digging for one moment. It found an acorn and, after examining it, sat back on its hind legs to eat.

  ‘You seem quite at home here,’ Sammy remarked. ‘You don’t take any precautions.’

  ‘Precautions? What kind of precautions?’ the squirrel asked between nibbles.

  ‘Well, you wandered very close to me. Supposing I’d wanted to spring at you?’

  ‘Then I’d have run,’ said the squirrel. ‘But you were asleep, and at times like this one has to grab one’s chance when it comes. Food is scarce and the weather’s about to get worse.’

  ‘Do you think so?’

  ‘I know it. I’ve lived long enough to be able to read the signs. So I’m filling up while I can because soon I’ll be confined to my drey.’

  ‘Is that your home?’

  ‘Yes, it’s over there in that tall tree.’

  ‘How I wish my home was so close,’ Sammy sighed. ‘I don’t even know how to find it again.’

  ‘You don’t know how to find your own home?’

  ‘No. I was whisked away from it by a young human who wanted me to live with her like a pet. But I’m no pet!’ Sammy flexed his muscles as he stretched.

  ‘I can see that,’ remarked the squirrel as it dug out another acorn. ‘Where’s your home then?’

  ‘In the park – um – near the canal,’ Sammy recited hopefully.

  ‘Park? You’re not too far from that,’ he was told. The canal reference was ignored.

  ‘Not too far? Oh, can you help me find it?’ Sammy cried.

  ‘I can’t, I’ve never been there,’ said the other animal. ‘But I’ll tell you what you can do. Go and ask the Trafalgar Square pigeons. They’re real Londoners. They fly all over, and they’re bound to know where the park is.’

  ‘Pigeons?’ Sammy muttered to himself. ‘I hunt pigeons!’ Then, aloud, ‘Where is this place – the square you mentioned?’

  The squirrel finished eating the acorn. ‘Look,’ he said, ‘I don’t go there myself. I don’t like places without plenty of trees. The best thing for you to do is to wait here. It’s a fine day. There will be humans coming to eat here in a while. They sit on those long wooden benches. They always come at the same time, bringing their food with them. The pigeons know this and they time their arrival accordingly. The humans toss them titbits. They might toss you some, too, if you hang around and look hungry. And you do look hungry.’

  ‘Yes, yes, I am,’ Sammy admitted. ‘But what about the pigeons? You said “wait for the pigeons”.’

  ‘Oh yes. Well, some of them fly in from the square. So they could point you towards it. Who knows, they may even have visited your park. They cover great distances. So you may get all the assistance you need. Otherwise go to the Square and ask around. You’re sure to get the information eventually. Nothing pigeons like so much as showing off their knowledge of the city.’

  ‘Even to a cat?’

  ‘Ah, well that could be a problem. My advice is: don’t be too cat-like.’

  ‘Easier said than done. But thanks. I feel much more hopeful.’

  ‘Best of luck. And I hope you manage to get under cover before the weather bites.’

  Sammy was almost light-hearted as he waited for the office picnickers to appear at their appointed hour. The squirrel had vanished long before the first human seated himself and began to unwrap his sandwiches. But the animal’s prediction was accurate enough. No sooner had the first crumbs of bread fallen to the ground than pigeons winged their way down to the gardens with practised alacrity. In no time there were thirty or more of them competing for each fragment of food. And in these pigeons from the heart of London lay Sammy’s best hope of returning to Pinkie’s side.

  12

  Toby turns

  WHILE SAMMY WAS struggling to get back to her, Pinkie, in his absence, was forging closer links with the grey male cat Toby. The two of them had regular supplies of meat which they usually ate together amicably. She had come to rely on him more and more, now that the kittens were showing signs of interest in their surroundings. Toby played his part in ensuring that none of the little ones strayed too far. He knew all the likely dangers and alarms of the district and protected them from any mishap. And he tried to find suitable titbits for them when they began to eat solid food.

  The kittens looked upon Toby as part of the family. They were, as yet, too young to learn about the difference between a father and a friend. Pinkie knew that the situation would one day have to be explained to them but for the moment she was content to leave things as they were. From time to time she still returned to the park in the forlorn hope of seeing Sammy reappear. Sh
e would patrol the length of the lake, always at night, occasionally calling to him. Then she would visit the old lair to leave her smell on the bamboo shrubbery before making her way back to the kittens and to Toby. She didn’t really expect to see Sammy again. But for the sake of Fern, Moss and little Sammy, who had never known their father, she continued her sporadic searches.

  On such occasions she always came back looking glum. Toby knew only too well where she had been and why, but he never passed comment. He would sometimes begin playing with one of the kittens, each of whom was always ready for a romp, as if underlining the fact that, as far as the youngsters were concerned, they didn’t actually need their real father. They were perfectly happy as they were.

  ‘Don’t be too rough with them,’ Pinkie would tell the tom. ‘You don’t know your own strength.’

  ‘Of course I do,’ he’d reply. ‘They’ll come to no harm with me, you should know that.’

  Pinkie had to admit, ‘Yes, you’ve been good to them – and to me.’

  ‘I’ve never been so content with my lot,’ Toby would say.

  Pinkie would look at him with the beginnings of an affection and then, almost as if struck by a feeling of guilt, would turn away again hastily and gaze in the direction of the park with a wistful expression.

  They were sitting on the park wall one night when Toby said bluntly to Pinkie, ‘What would you do if Sammy came back?’

  Pinkie didn’t answer at once. She didn’t know how to reply. An owl flitted through the park’s open spaces above them. Eventually she said, ‘It’s really more a question of what Sammy would do. Isn’t it?’

  Toby bristled. ‘I’d fight him if necessary,’ he declared.

  ‘Fight him! What for?’ Pinkie responded. ‘The kittens?’

  ‘Don’t be foolish, Pinkie. You know very well what for.’

  And Pinkie did know and she felt a twinge of excitement at this unlikely prospect. But she quickly said, ‘I hope it never comes to a battle. It wouldn’t be my wish. The kittens would never understand.’

  ‘Oh, they’ll soon be old enough to understand such things,’ Toby corrected her. ‘Any you must realize that they’d most likely support me.’

  Pinkie looked pained. It was all too true. ‘I don’t know why you’re talking like this,’ she said vexedly. ‘You were always so sure Sammy had deserted me.’

  Toby mumbled something to himself and jumped down from the wall. He was piqued by Pinkie’s unreadiness to show her commitment to him. His attention was arrested by barking and yapping noises which became more agitated and angry as he listened. Pinkie leapt down and ran to the kittens.

  ‘What’s that?’ she asked Toby.

  ‘I don’t know. I’ll investigate. It’s probably something happening in the meat yard.’ He hurried away.

  Pinkie instinctively shielded the kittens, although there was no indication that the trouble was likely to threaten them. Toby reappeared quite soon. ‘Two of the dogs I told you about,’ he summarised.

  ‘What about them?’

  ‘Fighting over scraps. Nothing to worry us. You should see the havoc they’ve caused. Bones and meat all over the yard. They must have ripped the containers to shreds.’

  ‘Where did they come from?’

  ‘They’re household dogs that sometimes run on their own. They get underneath a gate into the yard from the street side. They’re small animals but they look savage enough. They loathe each other.’

  ‘The big black dog isn’t around, is he?’ Pinkie whispered.

  ‘No. Haven’t seen him since the time you came with me. I told you – he’s a rare visitor.’

  ‘All these dogs,’ Pinkie commented anxiously. ‘It frightens me at times.’

  ‘Why should it? You don’t need to encounter them. They’re not going to come in here.’

  ‘It was more peaceful in the park.’

  ‘Was it?’ Toby snapped. He was aggravated. ‘What made you leave then?’

  ‘Because of the kittens. They were uncomfortable. You know already.’

  The barking and snarling reached a peak, then there was a piercing yelp of pain and finally the noise subsided.

  ‘One of them’s come out on top,’ Toby explained wryly. ‘I’ll go back shortly and collect some of what they’ve left.’

  When the butchers found their rubbish strewn all over the yard by the brawling dogs, they decided to replace the plastic sacks with metal bins – huge, heavy containers which were utterly beyond the scope or ingenuity of hungry cats to breach. Late one evening Toby recounted what he’d found. ‘We’ll have to move,’ he said.

  ‘Where to?’

  ‘There’s another place I know. It’s in the open, but don’t fret. It’s safe enough.’

  ‘No shelter?’

  ‘There may be; I can’t say for sure. I haven’t visited it for a long time.’

  ‘How far is it?’

  ‘Well, quite a trek from here but the kittens can walk now. We’ll need to go in the dead of night.’

  ‘Yes, but the kittens have never strayed further than the boundaries of this yard,’ Pinkie protested. ‘They know nothing else.’

  ‘High time they did, then,’ was Toby’s opinion.

  Pinkie wailed. ‘I don’t like the prospect of this at all. Why don’t we go to the park instead of this place you know? It’s much closer and the ground’s dried out a good deal. We could make ourselves –’

  ‘No!’ Toby interruped sharply. ‘That wouldn’t suit me at all. I prefer my own haunts and so you must come where I say.’

  ‘Oh. Must I? I don’t quite see it that way,’ Pinkie replied with quiet determination.

  ‘You agreed to stick by me if I helped provide for you and your young ones.’

  ‘And I have. But I’m not sure I can keep to that promise – if there’s to be no shelter . . .’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘I must find my own. In the park.’

  ‘I don’t think you’ll find that your best plan,’ Toby said. There was a chill in his voice.

  Pinkie looked at him steadily. Was there a threat implied by his words? She couldn’t be sure.

  ‘And how will you find enough food?’ he asked in his more usual tone.

  ‘I’ll manage. I did before.’

  ‘You won’t do as well as you could with me.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Oh, you’re not being sensible at all,’ he said angrily. ‘And don’t be surprised if I find ways of compelling you to come with me.’ He stalked away, leaving Pinkie to interpret his remark as best she might.

  Pinkie quaked. She looked at the kittens who were tumbling around her legs unaware of the tension between the two adult cats. She realized she had probably made a mistake in forming a bond with Toby whose friendliness only seemed to operate on his terms. What would he do now? She couldn’t imagine what his talk of compulsion meant. She knew only that she had to think first and foremost of her kittens and their safety, and if that also involved making them safe from him, there was no time to lose.

  She looked around. Toby had left the yard. She had no way of knowing how far he had gone but this could be her only chance to get away. She ran to the end of the yard. The kittens followed her. The wall was a great difficulty because she would have to carry Moss, Fern and Little Sammy over it, one by one. She turned to the youngsters.

  ‘Listen to me,’ she said. ‘I’m going to carry each of you over this wall. I’ll take Fern first. Moss and Little Sammy – you must wait here and not make a sound until I come back for you. I shan’t be long. And stay right here by the wall. Don’t go wandering off.’

  The little creatures gazed at their mother with big round eyes, impressed by the urgency in her voice.

  ‘Right, come on, Fern,’ Pinkie said and grasped her firmly by her neck fur. She leapt up the wall and over to the park side. It was quite a way to the shrubbery where the kittens had been born, but Pinkie knew it would be faster if she carried the kitten. She ran, feeling the weight
of Fern pulling at her jaw, neck and shoulder muscles. The kittens had all grown considerably since she had last had to move them. All the time as she ran she wondered if Toby was lying in wait for her somewhere. But Pinkie made the first trip without mishap, leaving Fern hidden away once more amongst the thick stands of bamboo.

  Moss and Little Sammy had been as good as gold. They had pressed themselves to the park wall and Pinkie found them together, silently shivering. Moss was next to go and Pinkie was greatly relieved that Toby so far showed no signs of interfering. She cautioned Little Sammy once more and set off.

  She dropped Moss next to Fern. The two sister kittens mewed comfortably to each other as they snuggled down in the dry leaf litter. Pinkie turned again. One more trip and the kittens would be safe. She was half-way across the open space of the park when she heard sounds that made her blood run cold. Two deep echoing barks boomed in the far distance behind her. Her immediate thought was of the great black dog. She crouched, her heart thudding, and listened. There was another bark, closer this time. Pinkie was torn between returning to her daughters and racing on to rescue Little Sammy who was all on his own by the yard wall. She actually cried aloud in her anguish. It was almost impossible to think clearly. She was very exposed herself but she tried to reason that if the dog was indeed approaching, it was probably in search of food and would have no interest in her. Then she remembered the butcher’s yard and Toby’s description of how it had changed. What would the dog do if it found no food there? She shuddered and began to run. It was imperative that she fetch Little Sammy.

  She reached the park wall again and, as she prepared to jump, she saw the huge black dog. It bounded across the open spaces with the most impressive speed and agility. Nothing, no animal that she had ever seen could have outrun it – not even a rabbit. Its stride was tremendous and, as she watched, the dog reached the wall behind the butcher’s yard. Its mouth was agape and a long tongue dangled from its jaws. With one graceful movement the dog vaulted over the wall and, just for a second, Pinkie saw its glittering eye, caught by the starlight. She waited a moment longer. The dog’s inevitable disappointment would make the animal even more dangerous.