properly it would be better. An acquired taste, I think. Something of a speciality.’ He shook the lump of half-chewed food from his hand so it fell to the floor and he left it there.
There were footsteps in the room below them and the front door opened and closed. ‘That’ll be them downstairs,’ said Papa. ‘We should get ourselves ready.’
‘What about the cat?’ asked Malik.
Papa handed Malik the remaining chocolate and gave him a banana from the rucksack pocket, then he took out some of his own clothes and placed themon the floor next to him. He unfolded his knife and used the point to make a series of small holes in the side of the canvas.
Malik went over to the window as he ate the banana. ‘There are people leaving the houses, Papa. They’re going down to the dock.’
‘We should hurry.’ Papa nodded at the rucksack. ‘See? I put some holes in the side for the cat to breathe. Waste of a good rucksack, but it should work. I warn you, though, the cat won’t like it. It will whine for a while but it should settle down OK. Where is it? We should put it in now. Give it a chance to get used to it.’
Malik fetched the cat from the corner of the room. He held it under the front legs and Papa opened the top as wide as he could and Malik put the cat on top of the clothes and held it down as they pulled on the cord to close the edges over the animal.
The cat whined and cried, and it scratched at the side of the canvas. Malik wanted to open the bag up again and let it out. He fingered the holes in the canvas. ‘It doesn’t like it.’
‘No. I don’t expect it does. But it won’t last for ever.’
Malik sucked at his bottom lip and frowned. ‘If it’s not quiet, we’ll get caught.’
‘It’ll calm down once it’s used to it.’ Papa lifted up the sack and held it out. ‘Here. Come and put this rucksack on. It’s better that you carry it for the time being.’
Malik saw a small nose pressed against the holes as he put his arms through the straps. ‘It’ll be all right,’ he whispered to the cat. ‘You can trust me. Just wait till we’re on the ship. Just wait till you meet Mama.’
The air was clear and fresh when Papa stepped onto the pavement, pulling Malik by the hand. Now that the cottages were occupied, the street had assumed a semblance of normality. There were curtains drawn across windows where none had been before, and a shirt had been washed out and hung up to dry from an upstairs sash – Malik thought he could even smell bacon. He wanted to stand still and breathe it in but Papa started toward the dock and Malik had to follow.
They walked at a quick pace. A horn sounded from the direction of the docks and a bird answered with a shrill call from the cottage roof above theirheads. Everything was moving. A family stepped into their path from the front door of the cottage ahead of them – a mother, father and two girls of a similar age to Malik. The mother shouted up the stairs for the last of them to hurry up. ‘Come on, Joey. It doesn’t matter if the case won’t lock.’ Papa stepped from the kerb to give the family space and Malik looked into the house as they passed and saw a boy struggling down the stairs with a suitcase.
‘Keep up,’ said Papa briskly. Malik quickened his pace, which meant he had to run every few steps, and when he ran the rucksack bounced on his back and the cat gave a loud ‘Meow’ and scratched at the canvas behind Malik’s head.
All this hurrying made Malik anxious and the butterflies returned to his stomach. Why did they need to hurry? Why did they need to arrive before everyone else? Ahead of them, a couple slammed a front door by pulling at the handle above the letterbox. What if there were too many people? What if Papa couldn’t get tickets for the ship? What if Mama got delayed? Malik suddenly had a hundred questions in his head.
They walked on. A car came up the street behind them and Papa stepped back onto the pavement tolet it
There were footsteps in the room below them and the front door opened and closed. ‘That’ll be them downstairs,’ said Papa. ‘We should get ourselves ready.’
‘What about the cat?’ asked Malik.
Papa handed Malik the remaining chocolate and gave him a banana from the rucksack pocket, then he took out some of his own clothes and placed themon the floor next to him. He unfolded his knife and used the point to make a series of small holes in the side of the canvas.
Malik went over to the window as he ate the banana. ‘There are people leaving the houses, Papa. They’re going down to the dock.’
‘We should hurry.’ Papa nodded at the rucksack. ‘See? I put some holes in the side for the cat to breathe. Waste of a good rucksack, but it should work. I warn you, though, the cat won’t like it. It will whine for a while but it should settle down OK. Where is it? We should put it in now. Give it a chance to get used to it.’
Malik fetched the cat from the corner of the room. He held it under the front legs and Papa opened the top as wide as he could and Malik put the cat on top of the clothes and held it down as they pulled on the cord to close the edges over the animal.
The cat whined and cried, and it scratched at the side of the canvas. Malik wanted to open the bag up again and let it out. He fingered the holes in the canvas. ‘It doesn’t like it.’
‘No. I don’t expect it does. But it won’t last for ever.’
Malik sucked at his bottom lip and frowned. ‘If it’s not quiet, we’ll get caught.’
‘It’ll calm down once it’s used to it.’ Papa lifted up the sack and held it out. ‘Here. Come and put this rucksack on. It’s better that you carry it for the time being.’
Malik saw a small nose pressed against the holes as he put his arms through the straps. ‘It’ll be all right,’ he whispered to the cat. ‘You can trust me. Just wait till we’re on the ship. Just wait till you meet Mama.’
The air was clear and fresh when Papa stepped onto the pavement, pulling Malik by the hand. Now that the cottages were occupied, the street had assumed a semblance of normality. There were curtains drawn across windows where none had been before, and a shirt had been washed out and hung up to dry from an upstairs sash – Malik thought he could even smell bacon. He wanted to stand still and breathe it in but Papa started toward the dock and Malik had to follow.
They walked at a quick pace. A horn sounded from the direction of the docks and a bird answered with a shrill call from the cottage roof above theirheads. Everything was moving. A family stepped into their path from the front door of the cottage ahead of them – a mother, father and two girls of a similar age to Malik. The mother shouted up the stairs for the last of them to hurry up. ‘Come on, Joey. It doesn’t matter if the case won’t lock.’ Papa stepped from the kerb to give the family space and Malik looked into the house as they passed and saw a boy struggling down the stairs with a suitcase.
‘Keep up,’ said Papa briskly. Malik quickened his pace, which meant he had to run every few steps, and when he ran the rucksack bounced on his back and the cat gave a loud ‘Meow’ and scratched at the canvas behind Malik’s head.
All this hurrying made Malik anxious and the butterflies returned to his stomach. Why did they need to hurry? Why did they need to arrive before everyone else? Ahead of them, a couple slammed a front door by pulling at the handle above the letterbox. What if there were too many people? What if Papa couldn’t get tickets for the ship? What if Mama got delayed? Malik suddenly had a hundred questions in his head.
They walked on. A car came up the street behind them and Papa stepped back onto the pavement tolet it
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